#and also that life gives u a break because this month has been crap to everyone

[percyluvr]

hiii !! could you please do percy x apollo reader where she's like this super sunny girl and everyone thought that her and her ex were perfect together but her ex ends up breaking up with her after losing interest. and maybe the breakup kind of splits everyone into sides because it was healthy but also heartbreaking (and percy, without even knowing, is somehow is her #1 advocate to everyone even if they don't know each other / barely ever talked before) and everyone watches as she slowly loses her spark and stops showing up for things, stays in bed all day, stuff like that and percy suddenly feels her absence and has enough of it and helps her pick up the pieces of her heart. he doesn't really pressure her to date or anything he just tries to be there for her by brightening her mood and teasing her and stuff and eventually he helps her move on from her ex. and like maybe a couple months pass of them being friends but also lowkey more than that and she confesses to him after annabeth or her friend makes her realize that she actually like LIKES percy when she loses it in a mad or a sad way at the sight of him with another girl (and she usually has her emotions in control) but yeah thats basically it !! thank u for reading this :)) hope ur having a good dayy

percy jackson x daughter of apollo!reader summary: your boyfriend breaks up with you and percy becomes your #1 defender, falling in love with you in the process wc: 4286

You, along with pretty much everyone else at camp, thought that your relationship was perfect. Being with your boyfriend was like a fairytale to you, but apparently it wasn't for him.

"Hey, so um, thanks for meeting me. I hope this isn't too random, but I just don't think our relationship is working anymore, and I think you feel it too," he says, looking into your eyes. If you weren't so in love with him, you probably would've smacked the crap out of him for this. You'd never been happier in your relationship, and he thought it wasn't working? You weren't quite sure if you were mad or sad in this moment.

"Oh. If that's what you think, then I agree," you reply, sadly smiling at him, trying to pretend that your heart wasn't breaking into a million little pieces.

"Alright, I still really like you and I hope we can be friends still," he says, and you know that he's saying it without malicious intent because he really is a good guy, which makes you even more frustrated.

"Sure, of course we can."

He gives you a hug and tells you to have a good day.

How are you supposed to have a good day when you just got dumped by the love of your life? You genuinely wished you could be mad at him, but he was just such a genuine and nice guy that you couldn't. You know that he only said it out of the good of his heart and because he didn't want the relationship to actually go downhill, but you were still frustrated and sad.

As if your day wasn't bad enough already, news of your breakup had already spread throughout camp, and everyone was looking at you with sympathetic looks. You had hoped to the gods that you could go at least a day before this happened, but of course not.

You got your food and sat down at your table, your siblings immediately crowding around you and asking you questions and trying to comfort you. You could hear people at the other tables talking about the breakup, and from what you could hear, people were taking "sides" in your breakup, even when they thought it was mutual.

"Hey, I heard about what happened. I'm so sorry, but we're all here for you, okay?" You hear one of your sisters say, but it doesn't really register. At this point, you feel numb, and you aren't really hearing anything people are saying anymore.

Later that day, you're sitting by the river, small sniffles being all you can manage to muster up after crying your heart out for the last 45 minutes. You're looking out at the water, thinking about what went wrong, when you hear footsteps approaching.

"Are you okay?" You hear an unfamiliar voice ask.

You don't even bother looking up. It's probably just another person here to tell you how they're on your side.

"No, but it's fine," you reply.

The person sits down next to you, and you finally look over, finding Percy Jackson sitting to your right.

He looks back at you, "hey, I'm Percy. Sorry if I'm interrupting, but I was just coming over to swim and I heard you crying."

"No, it's fine. I don't own the beach," you weakly laugh. "My boyfriend broke up with me today, if you're wondering why I'm crying."

"Yeah, I heard about that. I'm really sorry that happened to you, you seem really sweet."

"Thanks, but it's okay. He wasn't rude about it or anything, just said that he didn't think our relationship was working and that he hoped he could still be friends," you muttered.

He makes a sympathetic sound then says, "that's almost worse. I'd hate to be on the receiving end of that, especially if the person is genuine."

"Yeah, it really broke my heart. He was so genuine about it, and that's what really hurt. He still cares about me but he just doesn't love me anymore," your voice cracks in the middle of your sentence, and you look back at the water.

"Jeez, that seriously sucks. But hey, I'm sure it's not you that was the problem, maybe what he wanted in a relationship just changed?" It sounded like he was going to say more, but you made a sob-like sound and he immediately shut his mouth.

"I'm sorry, I'm really not good at this," he says awkwardly after a moment of silence.

"It's okay. If it helps, I do feel a bit better at least. You're not as bad as you think you are," you look over at him and he's already looking at you.

The two of you talk a bit more, before you excuse yourself to your cabin, not telling him why, but he suspected that you were going to cry more, and it made him sad to see you like this.

The two of you weren't friends, you were barely even acquaintances, but Percy now felt responsible for defending you. Every time he overheard a conversation where people were taking your ex-boyfriend's side, he would walk over there and set them straight, telling them how great you were and how the breakup wasn't your fault at all, and he should've been grateful to have you, even though the breakup wasn't messy at all.

People started to joke that he was the leader of your fan club, which secretly made him feel all weird inside. At the time he didn't know what he was feeling, but when he looked back at it, he knew that this was when he started to fall in love with you.

If, even a month ago, someone would've told Percy that the girl he'd always had a tiny crush on would've been single, and he was now openly defending you like his life depended on it, he would've first told them there's no way you did anything wrong, so what was he even defending you from? And second, he absolutely does not have a crush on you. Lastly, he would ask if you were really single, but not that he was asking for himself, he was definitely asking for a friend.

"Dude, you need to calm down defending her. She's not gonna let you hit just because you're taking her side," some camper makes the mistake of saying to his face.

"What the hell is your problem? Not everyone is trying to get a girl to 'let him hit.' Some of us are just decent human beings defending our friends," Percy says, before promptly soaking the guy in water and walking away.

This incident was just one of many where a camper makes the mistake of talking bad about you. At this point, he was one of the two people at camp that didn't know he was falling for you. You were the other, obviously, because how could you know someone else was in love with you when you were busy wallowing in your sorrows in your cabin?

About a week after you were broken up with, you began to distance yourself from all of the activities at camp, including the ones that once brought you so much joy. You'd never thought of yourself to be someone that would drown in their own sorrows, but then again, you'd never really experienced anything that would've proved yourself otherwise.

So, here you were, cuddled up in bed under about 5 blankets, mascara stains under your eyes, a box of tissues next to you, and another romcom on the TV, when you could've been outside doing archery or in the infirmary gossiping with your siblings like you would've done before the breakup. Your heart was aching so badly that you could barely even wake up in the morning. After your talk with Percy, you thought that it was easing up, even though that was only hours after the breakup actually happened, but you couldn't have been more wrong.

After a few days of this behavior from you, Percy was sick of it. He was sick of not being able to see you, and he was sick of you being sad. He went to the Stoll brothers and asked them to smuggle some ice cream in for him, as well as a stuffed animal and paid them extra to do it as fast as they could.

Every few hours, your siblings and friends would come into the cabin and check up on you, sometimes staying to watch a movie or two with you before leaving again and telling you to come get them if you needed anything. You heard the door to the cabin open again. Thinking it was just another one of your siblings, you ignored it and continued watching your movie. What you didn't expect was for Percy Jackson to be standing in front of you mere seconds later.

"Hey, I'm sorry it took me so long to stop by. I brought some ice cream, I don't know if it'll help or if you even like this flavor, but I thought it might help," he says, an awkward smile on his face, awaiting a response.

"Oh, well, thank you," you say, wiping your face, now slightly embarrassed about the mascara that was staining it.

"Hey, don't worry about the mascara, I get it. Well, I don't get it get it, but y'know what I mean, right?"

You let out a small laugh. "Yes, Percy, I get what you mean."

"Oh! I also brought this teddy-bear. It's the sunshine care bear, 'cause you're an Apollo kid," he smiles.

"Aww, thank you so much, Percy. It means a lot to me. Do you want to stay and watch movies with me?" You ask, desperately hoping he'll say yes.

"Yeah, yeah, sure. I'd love to," he replies.

You scoot over in the bed, patting the spot next to you, signaling Percy to sit down, and he obliges.

"So, what are we watching?" He asks.

"Well, I'm starting to run out of romcoms, so I've started to rewatch some. We're about to watch 10 Things I Hate About You," you say with a smile.

"What's it about?"

You explain the plot, and he listens with genuine interest.

This situation happens a few more times, before he finally asks you if you're ready to come back to camp activities. He doesn't add that he misses you when he's out there, but he desperately wants to. He refrains from any flirting because he doesn't want to pressure you, but it kills him to not be able to tell you how much he already likes you, even after just a few days of hanging out with you.

You tell him yes, and you'll be back to doing your activities tomorrow, to which he's overjoyed. He's never been happier in his life, and the two of you aren't even dating. Even when you are ready to date, if you still don't like him, he realizes that he would be happy just to be your friend.

When you're back to your regular responsibilities at camp, you realize just how much you've missed it. It takes a bit before you get back into the ropes of archery, but one wouldn't say you were bad. As an Apollo kid, you could never really be bad at archery, which you appreciated. Once you'd gotten the hang of it again, you realized how much you missed it. Archery had always been relaxing to you, not just because you were a daughter of Apollo. Even before you'd come to camp, your mother had you in archery lessons, and you'd enjoyed it even then. You were fully concentrating until you heard a familiar voice calling to you.

"Hey, I'm glad you're back out here. It's so good to have you back," Percy says, pulling you into a hug, the very first hug the two of you had ever shared. It was surprising at first, but you quickly melted into it.

"Yeah, I'm so glad to be back out here. I missed it so much. I owe you so much for getting me out of that bed, I was miserable."

He blushes. "Nah, it's fine. I knew you would feel better being out here, you love it too much to stay holed up in there, even if those romcoms were good," he jokes.

"Right? I knew you liked them," you say with a smile. "But yeah, you're right. I love being out here with everyone, and I love archery too much to give it up to cry over a boy."

He solemnly nods. "Yeah, I just can't tell you enough how good it is to see you out here. You look so much better, y'know? Your skin is like, glowing again."

You smile. "Thank you," you're about to say more when you hear a voice, specifically a voice belonging to the last person you wanted to see right now.

"Hey! It's good to see you out here," your ex-boyfriend says casually, as if he didn't rip your heart in two and cause you to become a hermit for 2 weeks straight. Percy gives him the nastiest look you've ever seen in your life, and try your best to contain your laughter, but you end up letting out a weird choked sound which earns you a smile from Percy and a weird look from your ex-boyfriend.

"Sorry, swallowed wrong," you say to him.

"Oh, alright?" He says confusedly, before trying to give you a hug, to which you not-so-accidentally swerve. He raises his eyebrow and you shrug.

"Uh, anyways. Yeah, good to see you too," you say before walking away with Percy, leaving your ex-boyfriend standing there confused. You didn't mean to be so rude, but you really couldn't stand being in the same vicinity as him right now.

The next day, you're in the infirmary, gossiping and laughing with one of your sisters, when Percy walks in, clutching his arm. You immediately get up, speed-walking over to where Percy is now standing.

"Hey, what happened?" You asked him, ushering him over to one of the beds.

"Was just doing some practice sword-fighting with your ex-boyfriend and he stabbed me right in the arm. I would've just gone to the ocean and healed it with the water, but I wasn't sure if it would heal this," he says before moving his hand from the deep gash on his bicep.

"Oh sweet Apollo, that was not an accidental stab. Sit here, put your hand back over it, I'll be back in a second," you say before rushing off to collect some supplies.

When you come back, you see Percy sitting with his eyebrows furrowed, muttering some unsavory things under his breath.

"Here, give me your arm," you request, to which he obliges.

You gently wrap his arm with gauze, noticing how intimate your position was and feeling awkward. You didn't want to mention it, not knowing if Percy felt the tension too. You tried to finish up as quickly as possible, hoping the awkward atmosphere would vanish. Unfortunately, it did not. When you finished, you noticed that Percy was staring at you with a weird look in his eyes.

"Um, I'm done, if it still hurts, I can get you some painkillers," you say, scratching the back of your head awkwardly.

Apparently, this breaks him out of his strange trance, and he nods.

"Yeah, uh, painkillers would be good," he replies, still in a slightly dazed state.

You rush out of the room as quick as you can, trying to avoid his gaze. When you were browsing the painkillers trying to find the best for his situation, you kept replaying the scene in your mind. You were trying not to be delusional, but you swore that when you caught Percy staring at you, he started to blush. You pushed it out of your thoughts and brought the medicine to him.

"Take two to four of these every six hours, and the pain should be gone in about two to three days," you said, handing him the container.

He nodded. "Okay, thank you. Maybe you can prescribe some pills to calm your ex down or something," he joked.

You laughed softly. "I wish we had any that would help. Just try to stay away from him. The breakup was his idea so I really don't get what his problem is," you say.

Percy shrugs, and the conversation ends.

Over the next few weeks, you see Percy in the infirmary more than you've seen him there in the past 4 years combined, which is odd, but you don't really think much of it. The injuries are all very small, and he could definitely heal most, if not all with water, but you don't comment on this, as you've really been enjoying having Percy's company during the day.

A few months pass on, and it's another slow day at the infirmary. You're talking with your sister and drinking lemonade, when something outside catches her attention.

"Hey, do you mind if I leave for today? I saw my man walk past just now. I'm thinking today is the day I confess!" Your sister tells you.

"Yeah, sure. I doubt anyone else will come in today anyway. Go get him, girl!" You encourage.

She basically runs out of the infirmary, making you laugh.

A few minutes later, Percy is back. You weren't expecting him back today, as he'd already been here this morning, but he was always welcome.

"Hey, Percy. What happened now?" You ask.

"Oh, I'm fine. A bunch of other people are going to the beach later, and I was just wondering if you were going to be there," he says shyly.

"Hm, I guess it really wouldn't hurt. When did they say they'd be there?"

"Uh, they said they were planning to go in around 30 minutes, I think," he replies.

"I mean, there's no one else scheduled to be at the infirmary today, but it's pretty slow today, so I guess it'd be fine," you conclude.

"Alright, awesome, cool. I'll see you there then," he said before rushing out. You looked out the window and the sight of him jumping up and down and cheering made you laugh harder than you'd laughed in a long time. He looked back through the window and saw you already looking at him. He gave you a pained look and ran off.

"Wow, I sure choose normal people to be friends with," you mutter to yourself before writing a note and putting it on the infirmary door saying that it'd be empty for the rest of the day. You went to your cabin and began changing into your swimsuit. You put a pair of jean shorts and a yellow tank top on over your swimsuit and grabbed a towel.

You talked to your siblings that were in the cabin for a bit before heading down to the beach. You spotted Percy sitting on his towel, looking at everyone else that was swimming. You put your towel down next to his and sat down.

"Hey waterboy, whatcha lookin' at?" You asked.

"Nothing really, was just waiting for you so we can swim," he says, smiling over at you.

"Alright, let's go then," you say, taking off your shorts and tank top as Percy watches, not noticing how intensely he was staring until you cleared your throat.

"Are you going to just sit there and stare at me, or are you gonna come with me to the water?" You teased, causing him to blush a deep red.

He immediately takes off his shirt, revealing his toned abdomen, which you should've expected, he was a swimmer after all. You were in awe, but he spoke up, "now look who's staring."

He grins at you before grabbing your hand and running to the water. Your shorter legs had a hard time keeping up with him, but you somehow managed.

The two of you splashed and swam until the water began to get cold. You both raced back to the towels, bundling up and sitting on the beach.

"Hey, we're going to have a bonfire, if you guys want to come," Connor Stoll says to you and Percy.

"Yeah, sounds cool," Percy replies for the both of you.

"Alright man, awesome. We're going now, so."

You and Percy grab your stuff and follow Connor to the campfire.

As the sun sets, you're all chatting and roasting marshmallows.

"Hey, Perce. Thanks for inviting me, and thank you for helping me get over my break up. We weren't even really friends before and you still helped me. I don't know what I would've done without you," you confess.

"Yeah, yeah. It's no problem. I mean, you're really sweet, and I'm glad to call you my friend now, too."

You smile, and spend the rest of the night quietly talking to Percy, which catches Annabeth's eye.

The next day, you hear a knock on your cabin door. You open the door to probably the last person you would expect to be there, Annabeth Chase.

"Hey, what's up? Who're you here for?" You ask.

"You," she says, causing your eyebrow to raise.

"It's nothing bad, at least, not for me."

"Uh, okay," you say, stepping out of your cabin and closing the door behind you.

Annabeth sits down on the steps, and you follow.

"So, I noticed you and Percy last night at the bonfire," she says with a small smirk on her face.

She must've seen the confused look that flashed across your face, because she laughs. "You two were all over each other, I swear. You two are so in love it makes me sick. There's no way neither of you have noticed this. I'm not even going to bother bringing it up to Percy because he has seaweed for brains, I swear. But you're smart, so I'm saying this to you. You two like each other, and it's physically paining everyone else at camp to see you two pining over each other like idiots. Please, for the love of the Gods, tell him how you feel, because I guarantee he feels exactly the same. That's all."

If there was any time to take a bow, it would've been after that speech, you think.

"Well, after that I guess I have no other choice," you joke.

This seems to satisfy her, because she gets up and pats you on the shoulder before walking away and wishing you luck.

Later that day, you decide that you're going to tell Percy how you feel, consequences be damned. I mean, if Annabeth Chase is telling you to do something, you better do it.

That night, you're standing in front of the Poseidon Cabin, mustering up all your courage to go inside and confess your feelings to Percy. You open the door, and all your confidence that you had conjured up fizzles right out when you see Percy sat on the floor talking to some girl that you didn't know the name of. His eyes catch yours, and you feel the tears forming. You turn around and run out as fast as you can, not caring how crazy you look running through the camp and crying. When you finally reach the beach, you sit down. You didn't expect Percy to follow you, so when you heard footsteps and heavy breathing, you jump up and scream.

"Hey, woah, you're very fast," Percy says in between heavy breaths.

"What do you want?" You ask, tearing streaming down your face.

"Wait, what's wrong?" He asks, clueless.

The question only makes you cry harder.

"Hey, c'mon, don't leave me in the dark, we're friends, right?"

"Yeah, and I guess that's all we'll ever be," you snap.

"What are you talking about?"

"Percy, please," you say, exasperated.

"I don't know what you're talking about, okay. Please just explain."

"Okay, fine," you say, trying to control your crying. "I was going into your cabin to tell you that I like you. No, I don't just like you, I love you, Percy. That's what I was going to tell you. But then I saw you in there with that girl, and it upset me, but at least now I know you don't like me back, so that's awesome."

"Hey, hey, slow down now. Who ever said that I don't like you back?"

"What?"

"You just said that I don't like you back, but I never said that, okay?"

"But what about that girl?" You ask.

"She's from the Aphrodite Cabin, she was helping me figure out how to tell you that I like you. No, I love you," he says your name, and you feel the blood rush to your cheeks.

"Oh," you say, now feeling extremely stupid.

"Yeah."

"Well, um. I'm sorry for freaking out on you," you manage to squeak out.

"Hey, it's fine, okay? I probably would've done the same thing if I was you, don't worry about it," he says, grabbing your hand in between his two larger ones.

"So, um, what now?" You ask.

"Well, we could always kiss," he jokes, not expecting you to actually say yes.

When he feels your full lips on his, he feels like crying, and he thinks he actually does, if the salty taste in his mouth is any sign.

You kiss for what feels like hours, breaking apart for air.

"So, uh, what would you rate that kiss out of 10?" He jokingly asks, breaking the silence.

"Um, probably a 9. But I could rate more accurately if I got to experience it again," you say, and he immediately takes you up on this, crashing your lips together in a somehow more passionate kiss than before.

a/n: okay so i DEFINITELY went crazy with this, but it was just such a good request so thank you saur much and i hope you like this !! i tried to follow it as closely as possible but i got kinda carried away on some parts,, this is also the longest fic i've ever written on this app so do with that what u will

[bookishtheaterlover7]

Not sure how to view Chris anymore and it’s sad. At this point whatever the “truth” is, it doesn’t matter.

I’m just floored at how someone could be so weak to get into this mess and not “be able to get out”and it’s easy to say oh it’s hard for him to get out but he’s at least trying to show this is fake, yet he was bold enough to lie to the world about being married?

Make that make sense?

Like how the fuck do they clean this up at all?

It’s like reality and illusions are morphing together and I honestly don’t know who the fuck this man truly is and maybe that’s the way it should’ve always been.

We get wrapped up in this shit mainly due to the way of the world and due to Hollywood and capitalism, etc, but we have to take accountability by finally choosing to not fall for seeing other mere mortals as anything but human.

If you take any random person off the street, clean them up, give them a great marketing team, BOOM you have a new celebrity. It’s all a big awful joke of illusion.

No more rose colored glasses. It’s to the point fandoms and celebrity today is seeing a blue sky but being duped into believing it’s green.

Unfortunately most will never understand the above and never take those glasses off.

This applies to fans, non fans and just the overall population of the world who are willing and unwilling and unaware at how impacted we all are by celebrity culture. A headline makes waves or something goes viral and we ALL stop our lives to read or listen about it and many hop online to discuss and argue with others over various things, not once seeing the reality……you’re taking time out of YOUR life to focus on someone who doesn’t even know you exist, wasting YOUR time discussing crap about someone else who is living their life and getting rich off of you and someone who uses media to stay relevant through…..Y-O-U!

*breaks rose colored glasses* for good.

💔👓

#EnoughIsEnough

Same, An🫶n. Honestly before I was sucked in here, Chris was the ideal guy for me... Ofcourse, Papa was right. He told me once that "I shouldn't place anyone on a pedestal, because anything placed that high, is meant to break."

I've got nothing but love for Chris and his work. But the way this is all spun, real or not, I'm not sure if I can keep adoring him as a person.

Like I've said before, we can't exactly blame Chris, alone for getting into this mess in the first place. But if those breadcrumbing and hinting on his end isn't true (the hope and rumor that he's telling us that anything about the wedding is fake, etc.), An🫶n is right.

He's not a saint, but he's not a demon either. But the thing is, he isn't going to be just Chris Evans, the actor we all love and adore. The actor we'll be happy for when he gets his small victories. Whose dog is one of the best things on the internet during this whole mess right now.

He's also going to be Chris Evans, the guy who "married" a racist, who's friends have baited the entire Fandom. The guy who couldn't save his fans from tearing at each other. The guy who let this get so out of hand, that the one place that should've been safe for us to escape to, and enjoy everything, disappeared in mere months.

I'm planning to stick around, because I know for a fact, a ton of you were here for the fan-made stuff. The fanfics, fanarts, discussions about characters, etc.

I came here for that too. Doesn't mean I'm giving up this whole thing. But I'm going to take time to go back to the fun part. Because honestly, my page has turned into an analysis page😅 it's 70% rant posts about the bullshit pr, and 30% me and my fics...

Bro! I intended to make fucking fics before 250 Followers Celebration comes... But I'm way behind... Partly, because of life. And partly because the second something goes down, I drop nearly everything, and focus so much time and energy on this.

So, I'm not saying drop him or any celeb completely. I'm saying we need to tone down our idolization, because it may have gotten to the point where it isn't healthy.

For the sake of your health, mental and otherwise, Fandom. Take time to enjoy what you love about this Fandom. And please don't say anything about tearing the PR Narrative, because even I have to admit, it takes it's toll.

Again, not backing down, or stepping down. Just giving myself time to take care of me, and spend time with my family while they're still alive.

I don't know if this Christmas season will be the last that I get to spend time with any of them, so I'm going to make sure I live every minute with them. And not stuck in this hole I've dug myself for months, since the wedding announcement.

And you should all do that for yourselves, guys. Take the time, and make it count.

[thessalian]

Thess vs Progress

Not to say that things are necessarily going well in the grand scheme of things (I mean, shit, just look at ... all of that ... out there - or don't if you need a break from unrelenting horror), but from a personal-life perspective, there are good things to note.

For all I promised myself this week off was supposed to be about relaxing, I did Do Things. Well, I Made Things. So far - chicken stew, potato salad, and brownies. I have plans in the direction of cereal bars, potato soup, sweet potato soup, beef stew, and risotto. Need to get out to the shops soon, though, because I need courgette for bolognaise and some more vanilla extract for any further baking I may wish to do. Like I said - month of batch-cooking. Though my appetite's on the decline at the moment and I'm not doing great pain-wise, so today might be a tin of soup, some potato salad, and maybe a sandwich if I'm feeling up to it.

The better news, though, is about my living situation. Long story short: there are two flats in this building, and my mother owns both, and both require renovation in a major way. So I'm shuttling around like the ball in a shell game between the flats. Or ... that was the plan, anyway. I moved into this flat from the other flat ... a little more than four years ago, I think? And for most of those four years, very little seemed to be getting done. My stepfather didn't get near the place. So the longer he waited, the longer I was stuck in the flat I'm in now - the flat which, while better laid out than the old flat, has the most atrocious plumbing it has been my privilege to experience. By which I mean:

No shower pump (so it's been baths in a tiny-ass tub for four years and I would commit a minor felony for a shower)

Leaky tub, in the carpeted bathroom. (Well, I think it's just that the tub is this cheap, badly-installed piece of plastic crap and because the cold tap leaks when I turn it up higher than a trickle, it seeps through the very bad grouting and onto the floor. The carpeted floor. IN A BATHROOM. I don't know what the people who designed this place were smoking)

By "bad grouting", I mean that some of the wall tiles literally fell off the wall and into my bathwater when I was taking a bath a couple of years ago.

Wonky boiler (though at least my stepfather installed a working timer on the damn thing so I don't have to switch on the day boost for two hours to get enough hot water to bathe)

Leaky faucet in the kitchen which has been half-assedly patched with electrical tape. (Literally. My stepfather thought this was even a vague solution.)

The kitchen sink drain doesn't have a U-bend, so using drain cleaner on it is a waste of fucking time (which is great when it's the drain that probably sees the most overall debris and gunk of any drain but the toilet)

Also the place is just ... grungy in ways I can't fix. There are cracks in various of the walls. The carpet is well past its best. The light fixtures ... the only ones that give light worth a damn are the bare bulb in one end of the living room and the kitchen lighting that my stepfather put in when I told him I didn't have enough light to make sure I was washing the dishes well enough. The others are gaudy-ass chandeliers. The less said about the curtains, the better. I don't generally complain because, I mean, it's a roof over my head that I don't have to torture myself to pay for, and my stepfather replaced the non-functional heaters last year so I'm not freezing my ass off trying to be mindful of the electricity bill like I was during that cold snap in 2022. So I was willing to wait and cope with the problems of the place for as long as necessary because you don't go being a choosing beggar in this kind of situation.

My mother, however, has been over for dinner a few times, and while I try to downplay it, she knows I'm struggling with the whole thing. So I figure she's the one who lit a fire under him, and he's been working himself ragged on the other flat for a few months now. I've been gifting him with baked goods every so often, partly because I can never eat a full batch of anything on my own before it gets stale but mostly because I appreciate the work he's putting in, especially with his back issues.

Which is when we come to today. Despite a bad pain day (weird agony in my outer left thigh and some grip strength issues on top of the rest of the increased OW), I made brownies, and I brought him some while he was working. He showed me the work on the kitchen (SUCH an improvement over when I first lived there, you have no idea!) and told me the current plan. Apparently, the goal is to get that flat liveable - not necessarily finished, but just done enough for someone to be able to, like, cook and bathe and sleep and everything - and then move me into it so they can start doing this flat. No real timeframe given on the work here yet, but I figure it's going to be a lot because if nothing else, they want to move a whole wall to give me a kitchen worth the name, size-wise.

Point is that if everything continues according to plan, the other flat will be liveable in about a month. I could be living in a flat with access to regular showers by mid-August - early September at the latest. I give a little extra time on that because I'm going to need to be able to book time off around then, since my stepfather's going to want me to move all my stuff in one day again and I will hurt for days afterwards. That and I have to get my phone and internet transferred and that might take a day or so, and I obviously can't work without it. Thus, better to be sure it's all organised for maximum efficiency. Either way, actual showers soon.

It's a nice thing to think about to keep from dwelling too hard on the election tomorrow. I've already voted, and the final results won't be in until Friday morning, but ... honestly, given that Starmer's been making noises about how trans women don't belong in single-sex spaces and how he wants to meet with JK Rowling at some point and is actually trying to arrange that (like TERF-In-Chief is a front-bench cabinet position now or something), and how he's almost certainly going to win, it's depressing. That's ignoring the rest of his so-called policies. It's not as big a mess as what's going on in the US, but it's mess enough. The US still has a chance to turn its would-be dictator away; we have "meet the new boss; same as the old boss" - damn near literally.

I'mma play Tavern Talk or something for awhile. It's fun and cute and will probably cheer me up at least a bit.

[feynites]

*sneaks some more Reverse Reincarnation AU onto @selenelavellan’s reading pile*

Warnings for gross violence enacted upon an abuser.

Dirthamen dreams of Selene for weeks.

He learns a great deal about her in that time. That her name is the same. That her voice sounds the same. That she is Dalish, still, and that she is somewhere in the Free Marches. That there was a fire, where she lived. That she has since moved away from it. She is careful not to tell him her exact location, or to offer up the names of people in her personal life. She hardly seems to talk about her life at all, and Dirthamen is not certain if she avoids the subject only because she distrusts him, or because she dislikes speaking of it and would not wish to bother even if she trusted him completely.

That could just be his own projections, however.

Des is fascinated with the development as well, of course, but their contract has long since settled, and it makes it difficult for him to exert himself in the dreams he has allocated to Dirthamen. And they are reluctant to change the pattern of the dreams, lest it somehow prevent Selene from returning again. They do not know how she found them, and so they do not dare risk moving, or changing their schedule, or altering the fundamentals of Dirthamen’s dreaming space beyond the usual cosmetic details.

But it has an impact, of course. Dirthamen finds himself… engaged. Almost as if he is waking up, even though he is technically still asleep. And it carries over, too. More mornings, he wakes up feeling more presence within his body. Engaging more with Des, and retaining better memories of what they do throughout the day.

Which, in between Des’ pursuits, usually involves searching all of the databases on Dalish fire refugees in the Free Marches. Records are difficult to access, however, and Dirthamen finds himself calling upon favours he has not bothered with in a long time.

He phones Uthvir.

“You are dreaming about Selene,” they say, in a tone of voice that implies that this not surprising or noteworthy information in any sense.

“It is not a dream construction or a memory of her,” Dirthamen clarifies. “It is another incarnation of her. She has found me again.”

There is a long pause, and then low sound, like a breath being let out.

“I see,” Uthvir replies. “In that case, I should probably come and see you. Where are you?”

Peculiar. Uthvir is generally reluctant to leave their manor. But, then again, this is a highly unexpected situation.

“I do not require a meeting between us, as yet,” Dirthamen nevertheless explains. “I only need assistance in locating her in the real world. I believe she may require some assistance. That seems a plausible reason for her to have sought me out, on some level.” And it is an impression he has not been able to shake in his interactions with her. Something is wrong.

“So you want me to help you find Selene’s reincarnation, whom you have met in a dream?” Uthvir clarifies. “The dreams you regularly have about Selene, which are constructed by Des to be especially lifelike and believable?”

Dirthamen considers.

“Yes,” he confirms.

There is another long pause, and then another long breath.

“I suppose it would not hurt anything to look,” Uthvir decides. “Just so long as you do not take any drastic actions without consulting with me first, if you please.”

Dirthamen agrees, and even Des does not protest. Though, his partner has grudgingly grown to accept Uthvir’s counsel more readily over the years. Des is not particularly good at subtlety, and there have been a few times when he has been in command of situations that have subsequently deteriorated, and required outside aid to escape. Despite their own extreme preference for safety, Uthvir has never failed to help.

They do not disappoint in this situation, either.

It takes several more weeks, and many more dreams, before Uthvir finds a record of an elven merchant attending a Dalish conference on the wildfire incidents. According to the elf’s records, he has a wife, named Selene. Uthvir sends this information with many reminders that it is possibly only a coincidence. They do not recognize the name of the man on their list; Dirthamen cannot blame them. The incident where they might have crossed paths was many years ago, in college, and few had cared to recollect the name of the elf Dirthamen threw out of a window even during their lifetimes.

Dirthamen did not forget, however.

Haleir.

Reincarnation has not made an exception for Selene, it would seem. And this time she is married to her attacker.

Perhaps he is not a bad person in this life, Dirthamen hopes. And he is surprised to find Des echoing the desire. But in the grand scheme of things, he would rather Selene be happy with someone else, than be married to someone who would harm her.

He does not think this is a wish the universe has accommodated, however. The Selene he has been meeting in dreams has changed – but not very much.

Des gets them from their apartment in Denerim and onto a plane to Starkhaven. The records with Uthvir had found for them show that Haleir is a member of Clan Lavellan, which has mostly sought refuge among various shelters around Ostwick. When they land, they find their search somewhat stymied by the chaos and flood of inquiries which are barraging the Free Marches. Politics between the cities remains difficult to navigate, and records of various refugees are being divided between Starkhaven, the chantry, and various regional emergency services. A further call to Uthvir, and some more digging, and they board a second flight to Ostwick.

The plane has already taken off by the time Dirthamen looks towards the seats several rows up, and sees a familiar head of ginger hair.

He stills.

It could be a coincidence, of course. He cannot see the man’s face. But he is very tall, and has visibly elven ears.

Dirthamen stares at the back of his head, and waits to see if the man will move. It is not a long flight, however, and even when Des decides to get up and ‘use the restroom’ so that they can pass him, several other people opt to do the same. So they remain seated. Dirthamen stares and Des attempts to glean some of the man’s desires, instead, to pull a clue from there. But differentiating him from the other people on the flight is impossible. They did not know Haleir well enough the first time they met him to tell, and the plane is filled with a general ambiance of anticipation anyway. A desire to land and be reunited with people and to rest.

They keep an eye on him as they disembark. Confirmation comes later, when they are in the airport again, and they see the man waiting at the baggage claim.

It is him.

Des takes over, as Dirthamen pulls back. Drawn more into contemplation and consideration of their next move. Des purchases a book from the small airport library which is still within view of Haleir’s position. They did not bring anything apart from their carry-on. Dirthamen’s most valuable possessions are in safe storage, and Des enjoys buying new things when they travel, and neither of them knows how long they might be here for. Hours. Weeks. Years.

He finds a chair, and Des pretends to read, and in the meanwhile plucks at the threads of Desire that he can perceive in Haleir. The man is frustrated, so his desires are somewhat conflicting. He wants to go home, and he would have preferred to stay in Ferelden. He wants an opportunity. Nice things. Importance. He is satisfied that the disaster in his clan has put him in even higher standing, but he wants more.

He is looking forward to retrieving his wife and taking her to a hotel room. Of venting his frustrations on her.

Dirthamen considers killing Haleir on the spot. He wants to. Viscerally. The sight of his face again provokes a hatred that he did not know what still inside of him. But, there are many witnesses, and besides which – his presence may have at least simplified part of their search. Haleir is planning to retrieve Selene, which means he will go to her.

He will lead Dirthamen straight to her.

Of course, that would also mean that he will see Selene again. That would not be a permissible outcome, and if possible, should be prevented.

Mind made up, Dirthamen waits until Haleir leaves the airport. Des is much better at navigating the situation outside, and they draw close, nearly colliding with the man in the rush to hail a cab amidst other potential passengers.

“Where are you heading?” Des asks. “Maybe we could split the fare.”

Haleir sizes him up.

“I’m going a long ways out of the city,” he admits. “To one of the villages. Steriton.”

Des beams.

“A lucky coincidence,” he says. “I’m heading that way, too. You… are you Dalish? You must be. The tattoos, and the location – I’m a legal advocate from Arlathan, Des’din Adannaris. Just flew in to volunteer my services at facilitating discussions with some members of your clan who are interested in seeking asylum from Arlathan.”

Haleir blinks. His narrow, just for half a second, before he smiles affably.

“Well that is lucky!” he agrees. “Splitting the fare will certainly help the clan coffers, too.”

“A good cause,” Des cheerfully notes.

They share the backseat of the same cab.

Haleir asks them a few questions, which Des fields easily. He gets the man talking about himself, then, and that seems to be a topic which Haleir is fond of. He is a businessman, he explains. He organizes his clan’s finances and trade, and helps get them good deals on various pieces of craftwork they sell, and comes from a prestigious lineage within his clan. He has married recently, he explains.

“Not that it’s slowed me down much,” he explains, with a chuckle. “But my wife has a good bloodline. You know how it is. Good for making proper elven babies, passing on the traditions and all.”

Des’ returned smile comes back tight. Dirthamen does not like Haleir’s desires.

“Do you have a photo?” he asks, anyway. Just to see. He is not certain if he wants it to be his Selene or not, now. It seems so likely that it is. But perhaps it is not – perhaps she has escaped this. Except, then he would be at a loss as to how to find her again. That is better than the alternative, he thinks, just the same.

Ultimately, however, the universe and his desires are not often in concert. Reality is what it is. That is why it is not a dream.

Haleir shows him a photograph of himself and Selene on his phone. They are dressed in formal Dalish attire. Elrogathe, and a woman Dirthamen thinks must be Selene’s mother – going off of the resemblance – are in the photo as well.

“She is beautiful,” he notes.

“Eyes off,” Haleir says, jovially, but with just a hint of an edge. “She was promised to me since we were children. I’m glad she grew up as nicely as she did – you should see some of the dogs in our clan.”

Dirthamen frowns, until Des’ understanding of his meaning comes through. Ah. He is referring to unattractive women as dogs, not attempting to divert the conversation towards animal husbandry.

It is a long cab ride to Steriton. Dirthamen grows quiet after a time. Haleir even falls asleep for part of it, and the driver makes very little small talk. Her presence is the largest deterrent towards the idea of ending Haleir. That, and the fact that doing so would likely result in an aborted trip, and he still has not learned where precisely Selene is. Haleir gave their destination has a hotel, but no village hotels are serving as emergency shelters.

Still, Dirthamen thinks, he could always visit each of the prospective shelters himself. But killing Haleir is liable to cause disruption. It may upset Selene, even despite his mistreatment of her. And once it is done, it cannot be undone.

They reach the hotel, and split the fare. Haleir heads to the desk first, to receive the key for his reserved room. Des asks after a room for them, in turn, while Haleir moves towards the elevator and pulls out his phone. He dials a few times, frowning, as the concierge explains that they have no vacancies, but recommends an inn on the other side of the village. Dirthamen then pretends to consult his own phone, as he listens to Haleir finally get an answer to his call.

“Alaris!” he exclaims. “Good news, I’m back from the arlathvhen. Where’s Selene? I’ve been trying to reach her but my calls aren’t getting through-“

The conversation moves beyond Dirthamen’s ability to eavesdrop as Haleir gets into the hotel elevator.

However, before Dirthamen leaves the hotel lobby, the elevator comes back down to the ground floor again. Haleir hurries out.

“Is that cab still here?” he demands.

Dirthamen looks, and shakes his head.

“No,” Des says. “Why? Is something the matter?”

Haleir’s expression twists into something more like a grimace than worry.

“My wife’s gone missing,” he says. “I need to get to that chantry, figure out where she’s run… ah, what might have happened. She might have gotten overwhelmed by all of this. She has a fragile state of mind, and sometimes she gets confused, especially when her routines are disrupted.”

Des raises an eyebrow, and Dirthamen goes cold and sharp. Angry in way that is oddly satisfied with his anger, and worried in a way that makes his stomach drop.

“You don’t know where she is?” Des confirms.

Haleir gives him an odd look.

“No. That’s the whole problem,” he replies. “I need to call a cab-”

“I’ll do it,” Des offers. “I saw the number on the driver who just dropped us off. Where’s the chantry?”

Haleir gives him the address, and he calls the cab, and asks if the driver could take a passenger to the chantry on 232 Wheatley Street. The woman doesn’t seem eager, but she also accepts. Haleir doesn’t seem to think twice about it when they follow him out into the parking lot – but then, Dirthamen was already on his way out. It’s a natural flow of movement, to exit the hotel. Haleir still has his luggage with him.

Good.

There will probably be more information inside of it.

“Haleir, look,” Des says, gesturing towards a side street. “Is that your wife down there?”

Haleir spins, and frowns.

“Where?” he demands.

“I thought I saw her, just heading down the back street,” Des replies. “It was a tall blonde, at least. Leggy, with a similar face to the photo…”

Haleir is already moving. Dirthamen follows him until they’re halfway down the side of the building. The brick of the building next to it makes the space small enough for a simple illusion spell. Cover, to make the street seem empty. It’s fairly easy to get Haleir to stop before they reach the street behind the hotel. Dirthamen just settles a hand onto his shoulder.

“Where did…?”

“Haleir,” Dirthamen says.

Haleir looks back towards him, and balks. He opens his mouth, but Des is already moving. Satisfying the desire that has been in him since he first read Uthvir’s message. It stretches Des further away from their body than he has been in some time, but for this, he can manage it. Dark desires have gotten harder for him to follow over the years. Yet Dirthamen’s own desires are dark right now, so the bridge is neatly made.

Oh, Haleir. Tsk, tsk. What did you do? Did you hurt our Selene? You did. You hurt our Selene. You wanted to hurt her. I thought I made my point a lifetime ago, but we will have to try again, it seems. Perhaps death will make the lesson stick better this time. Perhaps more pain will leave a better impression.

It will have to be quick.

More’s the pity.

Haleir’s open mouth becomes a silent scream, as Des’ magic sinks into him, and sets him aflame.

Purple fires arc up Haleir’s body. It takes slightly longer than anticipated. Possibly because there is no smoke, so asphyxiation does not ensue. Dirthamen maintains the necessary illusions as Haleir drops to the ground and writhes, trying to put out fires there are immolating him from inside his own flesh. His skin cracks and bubbles, and it is an effort to disguise the scent, as his flesh cooks and his bowels evacuate, and his corneas turn white and then burst. They flames are very hot. Dirthamen has to take several steps back before they manage to reduce Haleir to ashen bones.

To dust.

It has barely been done, before Dirthamen hears the sound of a cab pulling into the hotel parking lot.

With some effort, he shifts his shape. Turning his hair ginger and changing his clothes to match Haleir’s suit. Des picks up the man’s bag, and runs a hand over their shifted locks; and he drops the illusions, as the wind kicks a strange new ash cloud out into the street.  Then he walks back towards the front of the hotel, and waves in acknowledgement just as the cab driver is opening the door.

“Thank you so much,” he says.

The driver looks at him for a moment, and then shrugs.

“Sure,” she replies. “Other guy’s not coming?”

“Oh, no,” Des replies. “He was a big help, but I don’t know where he’s gone to now.”

[danielxricciardo]

Hi, I’ve loved reading all of your fanfics so far!!! Could you please write an angsty and long one with Daniel where your marriage really takes a beating cos of the tough season so far with mclaren, say it’s been a few months and at the beginning u didn’t wanna say anything cos you wanted to be there for him and you understand how hard it is but now it’s getting bad and you miss him and the good times so u sit him down and tell him that you’re really struggling in your relationship and marriage rn. You tell him that you’re willing to go on a break, not divorce, just a break so he can be selfish and figure out his career and that you’ll be there waiting for him when he does but that you also won’t wait forever. Daniels heart breaks but says a firm no and says he needs u and that he’ll make up for the lost time and the crap days. He then just solely focuses on getting his career back on track like the Rbr days and does everything in his power to win you back too

Summary: You and Daniel are married but he ignored you for months.

Warnings: angst, a little swearing

Word count: 2.1k

One of the easiest ways to describe neglect in a relationship is that it occurs when one partner, or perhaps both people in a relationship, begin to take the other person for granted and stop putting forth effort. Neglect can creep into any relationship over time. When two people are together for an extended length of time, it is completely normal for them to take one another for granted. One gets used to the other person being around; they stop dressing up for each other and going on dates, and sometimes they prefer going out with friends as opposed to spending time together. It is completely natural for relationships to go down that route. When a woman feels neglected in a relationship, she is likely to feel as if she isn’t important. This can lead to her also feeling sad, depressed, or hopeless. She may also begin to feel lonely as if she has no one to turn to because her partner is emotionally unavailable. While these are normal reactions to emotional neglect in marriage or a long-term relationship, this is generally not a place that most women want to be in a partnership.

You loved your husband more than you loved yourself. But in recent months it has been difficult. His season with McLaren was not a good one at all. At first you thought he would pass, that he would just have to adjust to the team. But already half the season was gone and it seemed to be getting worse.

You didn't meet him at all, even though you traveled with him. Every night you fell asleep alone and in the morning you woke up alone. You saw him the most during the race on the garage screens.

It’s a hell of pain… Your brain would literally stop working and there wouldn’t be any hope left in life. At first, you were incredibly hurt. You felt anxious about why Daniel is treating you in such a cold way. You kept checking your phone everytime, even if, it doesn't vibrate or beep. You began keeping your phone on sound mode just hoping for a single text or call from him. After some more trying and crying, you got tired of it and badly wanted to come out of that phase. You dialed up your friends and talked to them for hours or rather crib and cry. After that, you'll feel a little better.

When the person you love the most ignores you breaks you like nothing else. It makes you feel worthless and there’s no purpose to live anymore. It’s hard to deal with that feeling. Maybe you’ll never find a way to deal with it.

But you didn't want to give up on him. Fucking hell, he's the love of your life, how can you give up on him so easily?

It seemed that you both lived two different lives, even though you lived under the same roof.

At the beginning of the season you didn't say anything to him, you allowed him to adapt to his new team, new car, new environment, you were by his side and comforted him. But as the races passed and his season did not improve, you gave up telling him everything was going to be ok.

You've been married for two years and together for five years. Your relationship has always been a good one and many of your friends were really jealous of your relationship and lately, even though you didn't have a good marriage, no one realized your problems. You hid all your disappointments and upsets behind a smile and told everyone you were fine. Better than ever.

But after you told your friends that you were fine, you would go home where you were alone, cook only a portion of food because Daniel would not come home to eat with you, take a bath and go to bed, sleeping alone. Daniel was coming sometime after midnight, you didn't even know if he was going to bed next to you, and he was leaving home before you woke up.

It's been six months since he hugged you warmly.

It's been six months since he kissed you passionately.

It's been six months since he last made love to you.

It's been six months since he told you he loved you.

It's been six months since you fell asleep on his chest.

It's been six months since you last felt your husband's love.

It was a free weekend for him. That would have meant he could spend some time with you, but he couldn't be found, but you knew he was safe with Michael and they was training together. You have spent your day in the usual way, as you have been accustomed to since your relationship took a bad turn; you had breakfast that you enjoyed on the terrace of the apartment in Monaco with a coffee, you went for a run with Max and when you returned home you watched the show. At lunch you ordered something from your favorite restaurant and continued to watch the show. You always looked at your phone hoping to give you a message, but you knew he never did.

The evening had come quickly and this time you decided to wait for him.

You have decided not take pity in yourself anymore. You have to put an end to that situation in which you two find yourself. You needed to know where you were and what was going to happen to your relationship: whether you were going to come back stronger or break up. The thought of parting terrifies you.

It's not always easy to decide what to do if you're thinking about breaking up with your partner. On one hand, you care about him deeply, and have lots of great memories together. But on the other hand, you couldn't go on with all that mess.

You met challenges along the way, but together, you overcame those things and became stronger. But these challenges cause you so much stress now that the good times are no longer worth it to you.

It was half past one in the morning when he heard the front door open. You hear him take off his shoes and he leaves his sneakers next to yours. He enters the living room and turns on the light and sees you and got scared. "Fucking hell! You scared the shit out of me!" he says and looked at the phone to see the time.

"It's late, why have you stayed so late? And in the dark."

"Sit down." you say without getting up from your chair. "We need to talk."

Daniel dragged his legs to the chair in front of you and sits down.

"Ok, then talk."

"You know I never blamed you for anything. We always tried to solve our problems without burdening the other. Our relationship was always almost perfect and the quarrels we had were not out of the ordinary. Last year when you said you were leaving Renault for McLaren, I was happy for you because you were happy. But I noticed that this season has not been easy for you and it still isn’t. I know it's still not how you wanted it to be and you no longer can blame it on the fact that you didn't adjust, but you started bringing your Formula 1 problems between us and this affected me. Daniel listens to you without losing sight of you. When you didn't say anything, he didn't seem to have anything to say. You bit your lip and looked down at your fingers that were on your lap.

“So what does this mean?”

“I just need some time to think about things.”

“Ok, I’m going to ask you one more time; what does this mean?”

"It means I want to take a break. I don't want to break up. Not yet. I still love you and I'm not ready to give up on you just yet. The thing is, lately, since you started the season with McLaren, we’ve behaved more like roommates, not like a married couple. It doesn't seem normal to me. I don't know if it seems normal to you... But we were so good before. Before, I felt like you loved me. Before I used to feel you by my side. Before you held me in your arms, you kissed me... Now I stay at home alone every day, I eat alone, I sleep alone... There are some days when I don't talk to you at all. The last time we spoke on the phone was three weeks ago when I called you to let me into our hotel room because I forgot my card. The last message you sent me was a week ago telling me that you forgot your headphones in the hotel room and told me to bring them to you. I bet you don't remember the last time you told me you loved me."

“Where is this coming from?”

"This comes from the months I cried myself to sleep. From the months I watched you slipping away from me. From the days I had to pray every day for this hard phase to go away and for you to come back to being my husband. For months I lied to my friends telling them we were fine. For months I had to listen to your mother tell me she can't wait to give her a grandson. For months I fell asleep and woke up alone and I just hoped you were well, that you were safe and sound.”

Hot tears streamed down his face, and he squeezed his eyelids shut in the hope his tears would stop. As if the soul could bleed an ocean through the eyes, that was the enormity of his sobbing and that broke your heart. It was strange to see Daniel crying. You could count on the fingers of one hand how many times he cried since you met him: every time he won a Grand Prix, when you got engaged and when you got married.

“I just want things to go back to how they used to be.” you say defeat and as soon as you said that you started crying.

Daniel wipes away his tears and blows his nose. He gets up from his chair and goes to the window. He tries to calm his breathing and you mimic his movements. When, at last, he turns to you, you look back and look ahead, your gaze fixed on the armchair in which he recently sat.

"No." he says in a categorical voice and you look up to look him in the eye.

No? What did he mean by no? You have said so many things in the last 10 minutes and he answers only with a simple and categorical ‘no’. What had he said ‘no’ to?

Daniel must have seen you confused and continued.

"We're not taking a break. I don't want to hear about it."

You get up from the chair and go in front of him.

"Daniel, I'm not doing this because I don't love you anymore. I don't want you to think it's some kind of punishment. I'm doing this for you. I want to put myself out of your life for the rest of the season so you can focus strictly on driving. I'll wait for you. If you want to talk, if you need me, I'll be by your side. But I want you to be selfish and take advantage of this time when I'm stepping out from your life for you to focus on your career."

"No." he says again and this time he takes your hands in his. "I need you. So far, I've taken you for granted. I know it's wrong and I'm extremely sorry. But I don't want to break up. I can't breathe without you. I can't live without you."

You bite your lip and run your hands over his cheeks.

"My love... I don't want to be the reason you're losing your place in Formula 1."

He nods fanatically.

"You're not. I promise. Give me another chance and I'll try to be the best version of me, both on the circuit and in our personal lives, for you. Please give me another chance."

You stand on tiptoe and kiss him.

"Fine."

For the rest of the season, Daniel was not late for home again. He made sure he was the first person you saw in the morning, you ate breakfast together, you drank coffee together, in the evening he was the last person you saw when he hugged you to sleep.

And he kept his promise. He had never ignored you since then, and his career had taken a 180-degree turn. Now he had podiums, collected points and no longer felt demoralized.

Everything was fine now; everything was back to normal.

[machine-gun-casie]

tavern music

synopsis: corpse hears tavern music coming from your room (gn!reader)

warnings: rpf, reader gets cheated on, kind of unrequited feelings, mostly hurt/comfort and physical affection tho (what im trying to say is that this is mostly self indulgent)

wc: 1.7k

a/n: havent written in a while but i found this in my arsenal, fixed it up a bit and viola. original plans for this was definitely something longer that would end with them being together but im not up for writing rn. been feeling really shitty lately and ive been needing something like this in my life. hope u guys like it ♡

He couldn’t hear it at first. His headset was on and everyone was being so loud on the discord call. When he started the stream, he really thought it was gonna be a long one. But he’s only two hours in and he’s ready to get the hell off because something was definitely wrong.

“Corpse?” His name being spoken finally broke him out of his trance, he only hummed in response. “You’ve been really quiet. Are you sure you’re up for another game?”

“Actually,” he starts as he closes a few tabs, “I think I’ve gotta go. Today was fun, though. Thanks for having me guys.”

After a chorus of ‘goodbye’s and ‘see you later’s, Corpse disconnected from the discord call. “Thank you guys for being here,” he addressed the chat, “sorry I’m ending so early today. I promise I’ll make it up to you next time. Take care of yourselves. Later.”

After hanging up his headset and getting out of the chair he’s been sitting in for far too long, Corpse made the short trek to your room. 

You had only been roommates for less than four months, but Corpse could confidently say that you have become one of his closest friends. Getting a roommate was the last resort that he never wanted to actually resort to. But alas, medical bills were piling up and youtube and music don’t make half as much money as people think they do. So cutting rent in half was the best plan he could come up with. He did have an extra guest room that no one ever stayed in. Of course having someone move into his personal space was terrifying to him. He didn’t just want to post an ad on craigslist or something. So he asked a couple trusted friends to ask a couple trusted friends… And that’s when you came in.

You were the trusted friend of a trusted friend of a trusted friend. When you met, you didn’t make a comment about his voice. Your face sure as hell showed your surprise but you didn’t say anything. To Corpse, this meant one of two things. You either knew who he was but didn’t want to freak him out, or you didn’t know about his online persona and were just genuinely shocked by his voice. It only took a few minutes of knowing you to know that it was the latter. Thank god. You were like anyone your age with social media. You had a few accounts, followed a few people, but mostly used it to stay in contact with friends. 

It only took you guys a week to realize you had way too much in common. After many a late night when he wasn’t streaming, and many an early morning when he was just done streaming, you two became inseparable. Nothing could keep you apart.

Except for one thing.

You had a boyfriend.

There was nothing wrong with your boyfriend, per se. Just the fact that he was your boyfriend and Corpse was not. 

Yeah, Corpse definitely had feelings for you. 

But right now, feelings didn’t matter when he could hear tavern music coming from your room.

He knocked lightly and pushed the door open slowly. “y/n? Can I come in?”

No response came, just sniffles and sobs. The lack of refusal on your part gave him the courage he needed to open the door wider and step into your room. He had only been in your room a couple of times since you had moved in. But he had never been in a room that gave off the feeling of a person so well.

You were curled up on your bed, facing your open laptop screen and the tavern music coming from its speakers. With every sob shaking your chest, Corpse felt his heart break. “y/n,” he murmured softly, “what’s wrong?”

“It’s not working.” Came your reply, heavy with tears. “You said it would make you feel like you're going on an adventure but I still feel like crap.”

“What happened?” Corpse asked as he sat down on your bed, facing you. You slowly sat up and crossed your legs at your ankles in front of you.

“He-” You sighed heavily. “He cheated on me.”

“What?”

“He cheated on me -has been cheating on me- with my best friend. My little brother found out.” You groaned and dramatically dropped your head onto Corpse’s thigh. His hand immediately came in contact with your cheek as he brushed a few stray tears away.

There was rarely any physical contact between you and Corpse. Sometimes you’d give him a high five, sometimes he’d give you fist bump. And there was that one time you came up behind him at the grocery store and hugged his arm to your chest. You immediately whispered something along the lines of ‘creep won’t leave me alone’ followed by a loud ‘hey babe!’

Corpse could barely admit to himself how much he liked that.

But this? This felt good. Corpse’s large warm hand on your face somehow made you want to cry more but in a good way. The tenderness with which he held your face made your heart squeeze as it remembered moments like this with your boyf- ex boyfriend. But then it remembered your brother’s words.

“Hey, what’s up?” You spoke as you answered his call. Your brother wasn’t much of a caller, so it made you worry. 

“Hey, where are you right now?”

“I’m home, why?”

“y/n… There’s something I gotta tell you.” He sighed and you could clearly hear the guilt.

“Did you break my DS!” It was your first thought as you had given it to him the last time you had seen him. “Dude! I’ve had that since I was seven!”

“No no, I called about something else.” He cut you off mid-whine. “But also I did lose the pen.” You huffed out a sigh of frustration but stayed silent so he could tell you what he wanted to tell you. “I saw your boyfriend at the park today.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “And?” How did this warrant a phone call? 

“He was with Bob.” 

When you had met your best friend, your brother was only a toddler. He had decided that her name was Bob, so it stuck. You always called her Bob, she was saved as Bob in your phone, your whole family called her Bob. But you still didn't understand. Why was he calling you to tell you that your boyfriend and your best friend were at the park? 

“Why are you calling me about this? You know that they’re friends, right?” You let out a chuckle, albeit still pretty confused. “They’re allowed to hang out without me.” 

“They weren’t hanging out.” You could hear your brother push out a strained sigh. What wasn’t he telling you? “They were making out on the swing set. As in, both of them on one swing. And I double checked, it was definitely them. I-I told mom and she said not to tell you, but I couldn’t not tell you when I’m the one who saw it!”

You couldn’t bring yourself to say a word.

“I’m sorry, y/n.”

There was no lying to yourself, you had doubts about your best friend and your boyfriend. But you constantly brushed it off. He wouldn’t hurt you like that. Hell, she couldn’t hurt like that. Not after everything you had been through together. 

But you had seen his call log by accident one time, he called her more than he did you. She face-timed him one time to ask his opinion about a dress she was going to buy while you were in the changing room. She had done a handful of things since your relationship with your boyfriend started that made you uneasy. If this was their first kiss, which was something you doubted, then they’ve both been emotionally attached to the other for far too long.

All those tender intimate moments, all those dates, throughout everything, he wasn’t faithful. Not emotionally, at least. None of those moments that you cherished meant anything to you anymore. He had played you. With none other than your best friend since middle school. You didn’t know who to be more mad at.

The thoughts of betrayal from someone who you considered a sister and the hurt of being cheated on made you nauseated.

So when the large warm hand on your face stroked your cheek again, you didn’t mind it. This was Corpse. Not your cheating boyfriend. Not your lying best friend. Corpse. And you knew that he would never hurt you.

“He’s been cheating on me for a while I think.” You mumbled against his sweatpants. “Maybe a couple months. I don’t know.” 

Corpse furrowed his brows in thought. You had told him you were going to visit your boyfriend for your one year anniversary next week. “Weren’t you go-”

“Yeah.”

“And Bob’s been your friend since-”

“Yeah.” Your chin wobbled as you answered. You brought your arms up around Corpse’s thigh and hugged it. It was a strange position, but you didn’t care. He was so warm and nice and hugging him properly required more movement on your end than you were willing to do.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Corpse sighed and reached out to untangle your arms from his leg. He gently pulled you across the few inches of bed between you and sat you in his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, immediately sobbing into his shoulder. “Do you want me to turn off the music?” You shook your head no against him and he chuckled before he solemnly sighed. “When did you find out?” 

“When I came home.”

“But you came home hours ago. Have you been in here this whole time?” You nodded. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You were streaming, didn’t wanna interrupt.” You shrugged.

“y/n,” he sighed disappointedly, “you’re my best friend. I can end a stream if you need me.”

“Okay.” Your voice, broken and weak and tired, made him feel so guilty. You had been crying your heart out for over two hours just down the hall from where he was.

He gently grabbed you by your hips and tried to push you away, but you only held on tighter and whimpered. “I just wanna get you some water.”

“I don’t want water.”

“Then what do you want?”

“You.” You whispered. “Please stay.” 

Fuck. How could he say no to that?

So he stayed.

[yourmcu]

Friday, I’m In Love

Pairings: Tony Stark x reader

Summary:

In which the reader is an Avenger and she just geeks out when she sees a bunch of musical instruments at the compound and Tony just fallsinlovewithherstraightaway because of her personality and music taste

Word count: 2,562

A/n: (moved to the end of the fic!)

Warnings: u have nothing to worry about :) fluff!

read it on ao3!

gif not mine! credits to the owner^^

“I’ll drop this off at your room before I hit the hay, Tony mentioned about giving you a tour of the place first.” Clint patted you on the arm and walked pass you with your bags.

You nodded and smiled, really appreciating his help. You’ve been sorting things out at your apartment with Clint all day. “Alright, thanks. I owe you one.” You heard him say something along the lines of ‘buy me donuts’ before he was out of sight.

“Agent L/N, you’re finally able to join us,” Tony gave you a playful smile, finishing his drink to walk over to you.

You were officially one of the avengers, and now officially moving in. It’s been a few months since you assisted the team on a particularly huge mission. It was not planned of course, after that you started helping out when they needed it, and they thought you’d fit right in.

“Tony,” you gave him a small nod and a kind smile. “And please, call me Y/N.” The billionaire then offered you a drink but you declined.

“Good, didn’t think you’d be much of a drinker,” Tony stated and gave you one of those charming looks that would literally sweep any girl right off her feet. “Has anybody told you that you’ve got pretty eyes?”

The comment surprised you but then again, you remembered who you were talking to. “Stark, if we’re going to be working together you better cut the crap.” You laughed.

Tony raised an eyebrow, thinking that you probably ran into Pepper first before coming up. The small talk led to Tony’s said compound tour. He was making jokes here and there, even revealing secrets about the others that you didn’t need to know about.

After some time the both of you reached the last floor, the one that had your bedroom. Tony was still talking but your  gaze was glued to the black, shiny piano out in the balcony. Why was something so grand and probably expensive doing in plain sight where someone could just swoop in and steal it?

“Earth to Y/N,” Tony waved a hand in front of your face. He stopped when you came back from your trance. “There you are. That’s a secluded, little balcony. It’s a great place to let off some steam or just to take a break for a while.”

“That’s nice,” you murmured. “You... uh, you play?”

Tony spun around to look at you again. “Play?”

“Yeah. The piano, I mean. It’s a good looking piano.” You admitted.

“Oh. That’s what you were ogling? For a second I thought I was a bad and boring tour guide,” he chuckled. “I wouldn’t say I do. It’s a specific model my mother used to own and...”

You waved him off and smiled lightly, not wanting him to explain further as you already understood. It might kill the mood. It’s been a while since you’ve run your fingers through a set of piano keys, you realized, but you were also shy to ask Tony if you could play it sometime.

“Alright, just call for Friday if you need anything, or call Friday to call me,” he joked when you finally reached your bedroom door. “After you settle maybe you could stop by the lab? I could really use your help for something - it’s in your area of expertise, you know?”

“Sure. Tomorrow’s good?”

“Sounds great.”

You nodded and thanked him for the tour, and he gave you a salute before walking away.

----

“Good morning, metal man.”

From inside the Iron Man suit, Tony turned around to see you leaning against the wall beside the door to the lab, a cheeky smile on your face, one cup of coffee in each hand. He was certain that he pulled another all nighter, not even realizing that it was morning until you greeted him.

Surprised by your presence, the iron helmet swiftly revealed his tired face, then he opened up the chest plate of his suit to get out of it completely. “Time?”

“It’s six. I didn’t think you’d be working this early,” but you noticed the circles around his eyes. “...or you didn’t stop since last night.”

“Nope.” Tony snatched one of the cups from your hand and gulped it down. His eyes slightly widened when he realized you snuck in some bourbon in there.

He also couldn’t help but look at your nightwear. Slightly shabby sweatpants and a large band shirt. Green Day, he noticed. They weren’t bad. Heck he could’ve sworn he heard one of their songs on the radio once.

“You said you needed me for something?” You recalled, walking over to his computer. You were an all in one package: you practiced a lot of fighting as a teenager, now you trained with Natasha or Steve, so you knew a decent amount of hand-to-hand combat. Originally you were supposed to major in arts, but switched to the science stuff, engineering, so you knew a thing or two about building things. You also took interest in coding. Plus, Fury admitted to like your wit, one of the reasons why he wasn’t against you joining the avengers.

Tony just wanted you to try and make the security systems around the compound more tight, more secure. He’d do it himself but he wanted to see what you can do. You were the newest part of the team, of course he’d be curious about you.

You pushed yourself away from his desk, humming at the green bar slowly filling up in the monitor. “That should take a while,” you crossed your legs and looked up at the genius billionaire. “You’re awfully quiet, Tony, I think you need some sleep.”

He rolled his eyes, smiling. “I’m getting back to work.”

“Hey no, I’m serious. You need to re-”

You cut yourself off when you saw a beautiful, six-stringed instrument that hung from the wall when you turned. Tony wondered why you abruptly stopped talking and looked at you.

You got up the chair and carefully removed the electric guitar from the wall. You cringed a bit when you felt the rusty strings on your fingertips. Clearly this hasn’t been played in a while.

But nonetheless, you thought it was beautiful.

“You’re looking at it like it’s the love of your life,” Tony pointed out.

“Do you not know what this is?” You gestured to the instrument. It was a Gibson, 1960 Les Paul - its color scheme being cherry red and black. It greatly reminded you of Brian May’s red special-

Anyway, you sat back down, running your hands through the fret board a couple times to get used to the rusty strings, also tuning some that were out of tune. Then you pulled out a small pick from your pocket.

“So you just carry around a plastic plectrum everywhere you go, huh?” Tony heaved himself up to sit on top of his desk in front of you.

Playing a few sets of chords made you reminisce about your high school years. You were the type that brought a guitar everyday to school back then. “It’s a habit,” you chuckled. “When did you start playing?”

“Oh, no. I just collect them. I know a chord or two but that’s it.”

You laughed. Of course, he was a billionaire. “I could teach you if you want.”

Tony crossed his arms and playfully raised an eyebrow. Is this your way of flirting with him, or was it just an innocent offer? “Why, you a professional or something?”

“No - well, if I stuck to my original career choice, I should be.” You shrugged.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Tony made a mental note to himself to ask you more about that specific topic later on.

“Fine,” you giggled. “Name a band and I’ll play a song.”

He pretended to think. “Dunno, AC/DC.”

You slid your fingers up a bit to the higher frets to play the intro to ‘You Shook Me All Night Long’. It’s your personal favorite from that band. The guitar doesn’t sound as exciting as it is when it’s plugged in, but you manage to pull it off. You then played the opening riff a couple times then skipped to the chorus.

Tony watched your hand as you hummed along the chorus. It was a great song, yet simple chords, simple until you get to the solo part. He thought you played it beautifully but he’d never admit it to your face.

“C’mon, it was just one song, am I that good?” You teased when you saw a glint of amazement in his eyes.

“Please, anyone can play that song.” Tony rolled his eyes, grinning. Then he pointed to your shirt. “Green Day.”

You repositioned your hand on the frets, playing the fingerstyle to the band’s song ‘Minority’. “I’d never wear a band shirt if I didn’t know the band. That’s downright embarrassing.

“What’s your genre, Stark? I’m guessing a lotta rock?” You stopped playing for a bit to look at him.

“You could say that. But if I think it’s catchy then it’s going on my playlist,” Tony responded. “You can keep that guitar, by the way.”

You looked at him with wide eyes. “I can’t. This - this model is expensive. The brand’s expensive-”

“It’s three grand.” He told you like it didn’t matter to him.

“Exactly! It’s expensive!”

“Boss, Miss Romanoff is on her way down.” Friday’s voice rang throughout the room.

On cue, Natasha walked in wearing her usual sparring attire. “Y/N. You were supposed to meet me at the gym half an hour ago.”

You cursed, getting up and hanging the guitar back up the wall earning a glare from Tony. He really did want to give it to you. “Sorry, got caught up. Uh... I think it’s done, Tony,” you rambled and pointed at his computer, green bar already full. 

Natasha lingered at the door after you ran up to change. “I know you have a lot of those displayed around and I’m telling you, hide them.” She was referring to the guitar.

“Why?” Tony hopped off the desk and began working again.

“Mainly because she turns into a huge music geek, but I’m assuming you love it.”

----

Tony had a stressful time doing work one night. He’s in the middle of a suit upgrade and he just can’t seem to put it together right. Maybe he just needed a moment to breathe and relax.

So he went to the balcony, a glass of his preferred alcohol for the night in hand.

He wasn’t that surprised when he saw you in there too. After the first time you came over his lab you started coming over regularly, just to talk about random stuff, music and bands, assisting him with anything he needs assisting with. The both of you became close. You could catch and snap back whenever he made a smart remark, and when he would shamelessly flirt with you, you’d just play along, you don’t get insulted or take any of it too seriously. That’s probably why he likes you so much.

This time you sat in front of the piano, playing chords and doing random scales. Tony admired you quietly from the entrance of the balcony. You did look pretty peaceful humming along, he even found it adorable when your eyebrows furrowed when you accidentally hit a wrong note, sometimes you’d shake your head slightly.

You were definitely something else. As time passed, Tony realized his feelings for you only grew and grew. He even started listening to all the songs you recommended, which were all amazing, even though at first he wasn’t used to hearing songs without an electric guitar on full distortion.

“Sorry. It was just so tempting.” You giggled. You pat the vacant part of the piano seat next to you. Tony placed his drink on top of the piano before sitting down.

You began playing a new song and he was very much relaxed by it. He remembered that time he got to ask you why you didn’t grab the opportunity to play music professionally.

“Well why didn’t you?” Tony asked.

You shrugged, fiddling with his custom made Iron Man guitar. “People judged me. Told me I’d never make it as a musician, that it was just out of luck for the famous ones out there now. It’s fine honestly, I liked other stuff anyway. After that I started training, y’know, became a spy...”

“You know how The Cure’s ‘Friday I’m In Love’ is upbeat?” You asked as you transitioned to a new chord. Tony hummed. “I found a slow, piano version the other day and I... learned it. I think it’s pretty.”

“Let’s hear it.”

You smiled. You were always flattered when he wanted to hear you play songs.

Tony looked at your hands swiftly playing the piano keys, up to your face concentrating on what chord was next. You only learned it by ear, you were sure you’d mess up at some point.

“I don’t care if Monday’s blue,” you hummed. “Tuesday’s grey and Wednesday too...”

You believed your singing voice was shit, so you just did this thing where you hummed- but also sung the lyrics as you played. Tony believed differently though. He thought your voice was beautiful.

“Thursday, I don’t care about you... it’s Friday, I’m in love,” You glanced at Tony for a moment and then returned your attention to the piano keys when you saw that he’d been fully listening to you.

“Monday you could fall apart,” you fell into your own little world again, high-fiving yourself in your mind when you nailed that chord progression.

Whereas Tony was sure that he was falling for you as moments passed.

“Tuesday, Wednesday, break my heart...”

The way you sung that last part made him feel things. It was just so soft, warm, damn, he wanted to make a move now.

‘Do it! You won’t have a chance like this again.’ A voice inside his head told him.

“Thursday doesn’t even start, it’s-”

You did an entirely different chord, messing up the song. “Oh god, that was horrible.” You laughed, closing your eyes and putting your hands around your stomach to contain your laughter. “But it was a good version, don’t you th-”

When you went to look at Tony, you were immediately cut off by lips pressing to yours. He cupped both sides of your face to gently deepen the kiss. He didn’t want it to be forced but seeing as you weren’t pulling away and you started to kiss back, he didn’t stop.

You were shocked to say the least. It was so fucking cliche but it was happening. Tony Stark was kissing you, and you liked it. Well of course you did, who wouldn’t? Maybe because it felt like it had meaning, not because he’s just lusting for you. It felt like your heart was about to leap out of your chest and there were actual butterflies inside you.

“Friday, I’m in love.” Tony finished the lyric for you after he pulled away.

“Are - are you-”

“I might have to kiss you again just to shut you up.”

But this time you beat him to it. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him, and you felt those darn butterflies again.

“It’s about time, sir.” Friday spoke.

----

so this is just a pure music-related imagine and also I’m sorry if you don’t like the band(s) mentioned (bc it’s an x reader), or have a different guitar preference, or play a different instrument or have a drastically different fav genre, etc.

(AND YES I THOUGHT THE TITLE WAS PERFECT FOR THIS SINCE IT’S A SONG AND HE HAS AN A.I NAMED FRIDAY)

[amelinksanatomy]

hi do u think you could write one of amelia working from home (set during covid) so while she looks at scans or other things she also needs to take care of scout and tend him please

Busy Day

A/N: Thank you for the prompt. For the purpose of this prompt, Meredith's kids are else where. There's not too much going on and it's a little on the short side but I hope you like it!

"Okay buddy," Amelia smiles down at her son as he lays on her bed while she finishes buttoning his onesie, "It's just you and me today."

4-month-old Scout looks up and gurgles happily, kicking his little legs around in an attempt to remove his socks. Amelia giggles softly at his cuteness as she reaches down, sliding her hands under him and lifting him onto her chest. The baby settles his head onto her shoulder as Amelia rocks gently from side to side, "Daddy's at work so it's just us. You're dressed and fed and now Mommy's gotta get ready because she's got a few consults today so I need you to be good for me, okay?

After her first consult, Amelia had been sent some scans to review. She was sat on the couch with her computer open in front of her on the coffee table and Scout sat up against her chest.

"And right here," Amelia points to the enlarged brain scan on the screen, "is the frontal lobe. It's used for problem solving and organising and decision making."

Amelia cocks her head to the side and smiles down at the baby in her lap. She bounces him gently on her knees and strokes his hair softly.

"And if you look right here... there is the nasty little tumor that Mama has to remove." her baby voice starts to creep in as she reaches the end of her sentence while she takes hold of Scout's small hands and softly shakes them in the air, "Right now, the tumor is making the patient is experiencing problems with his memory and impulse control which, isn't good for him... or for anyone really. So, Mama has to get it out of his brain soon."

Scout starts giggling happily as Amelia bounces him around on her knee once more, "You like brains baby? They're cool, huh."

"You gonna be a neurosurgeon like your Mommy?" Scout turns his head to look up at Amelia's face as she spoke, a sweet little smile appearing on his face as he babbles, "It's okay buddy, we won't tell Daddy."

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

"So, your scans did show multiple lesions which are likely the cause of your seizures." Amelia explains to the patient she was having a video consult with as she was sat at the kitchen table.

"Does that mean it's fixable? Can you make the seizures stop?" the woman on the other end of the call asks, hopeful that she'd come to the right surgeon.

"Yes. I can remov-" Amelia stops mid sentence as a piercing cry sounds through the baby monitor beside her, "I'm sorry, my son just woke up from his nap, I really need to go and pick him up, i'll be right back."

Once returning from the nursery, Amelia sat back in front of the computer with Scout in her arms. He was now calm and staring up at his Mom with his wide blue eyes as she continued with her consult.

"I'm sorry about this. My boyfriend is at work so it's just us here and this little man is very needy." she apologises as she adjusts Scout in her arms, "It's no problem, really, you look like you're doing a great job balancing things."

Amelia smiles as she looks down at the baby in her arms. Truthfully, she had been concerned about how she was going to handle having a baby and working. She'd seen a lot of her friends do it but, it still worried her. It worried her that she'd miss too much of his life. So far, because of the pandemic, she was able to do her consults online which meant she got to stay with Scout while she worked and then got a break when she went in for surgeries.

"Like I was saying, I will be able to go in surgically and remove the lesions which will hopefully relieve you of your seizures."

"That would be amazing. When can we do it?" the patient asks but before Amelia has a chance to answer, Scout starts wailing once more, "Oh god, he's hungry, I'm so sorry."

Amelia quickly stands up and runs over to the refrigerator, the screaming baby still in her arms as she swings it open to look for a pre-pumped bottle to give him.

"Crap." she whispers under her breath, "No bottles."

"Alright, I guess we're just gonna have to get ma boobs out in the middle of this consult. Never thought I'd do that. The things I do for you." she whispers down to the still crying baby.

She sits back at the table, angling the computer up so the camera is only showing her face before opening her shirt to allow her son to start eating. Immediately, he calms down against her chest. Amelia looks back up to the screen and offers her patient a smile.

"Okay, where were we?"

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

The front door closing startles Amelia, waking her up from where she'd fallen asleep on the couch with Scout laid across her chest. It takes her a moment to come around and focus her eyes on the body that had just walked in.

"Hey." Link smiled as he placed his bag down by the door and made his way over to the couch. He sat down beside Amelia, placed a hand gently down on the baby's back before leaning in to kiss Amelia, "How was your day?"

Amelia laughs, "Well, we successfully got ready without any tears and then I showed him some brains which he seemed to love annnnnd then I got my boobs out in the middle of a consult."

"Huh..." Link laughed and raises his eyebrows waiting to see if she'd give some kind of explanation.

"He woke up from a nap while I was in the middle of a consult and started screaming because he was hungry. There wasn't any bottles in the fridge so I just had to- I obviously tilted the camera up."

They both laughed again which caused Scout to start stirring on her chest. The two of them watched with a smile as their son wriggles for a second before settle back down, pressing his face into her chest.

"Well, it sounds like you had an eventful day." Link says softly as Amelia leans her head on his shoulder. He places a kiss on her forehead and runs his fingers through her hair gently,

"You're doing an amazing job, Amelia. I'm proud of you."

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

James//even for me life had its gleams of sunshine

Request: This is a request I wanted to ask would you be up for writing Hc for dating James from teotfw thanks if you can 😘

hey! i hope you like this! its set after season 2 because i don’t think i’ve seen anything like it (why would i tbh) and i thought it would work better! i also loooooove writing hc, so when my requests open, send some more in! 

- When you meet James, you already know who he is. 

- Its two years after the whole Bonnie thing 

- Him and Alyssa dated for a while, but broke up due to separate personal problems. 

- Both of them needed a change 

- And to move on

- But neither could do that with the other 

- So he moved. 

- He found a job and a flat and decided to try and start his life again

- Which is how he ended up meeting you 

- Its the first day of his new job

- And you’re training him

- Of course when you see him 

- You instantly recognize him 

- You remember seeing his and Alyssa’s face all over the news 

- So you’re only a lot little bit shocked when your boss says that this is who you’re going to be working with 

- The man that he’s replacing was a dick

- But at least he wasn’t wanted by police at some point in his life 

- I mean he could have 

- You never really got to know him

- He was weird and creepy so you just tried to avoid him as best you could

- But thats besides the point

- So, yeah

- You recognize James from the news 

- And the newspapers 

- As well as posters (even though they were no where near where you lived?)

- And every social media sight 

- Despite this however 

- You try and see beyond his past 

- You know, you try and look for the best in people 

- He’s incredibly glad of this

- And its the best thing you’ve ever done 

- You’re obviously a little bit wary of him at first 

- He may be cute but sometimes he gives off some weird vibes 

- But maybe thats just his awkwardness in social (and any) situations

- The more you get to know him

- The more you realize there’s more to him

- There was more to him than the picture they painted on the news 

- At first he’s a little shy

- And a lot awkward

- But the more he’s around you

- The more comfortable he feels sharing parts of him with you

- And the next thing he knows he’s falling for you

- And you’re falling for him 

- Cue seven months of...

- m u t u a l    p i n i n g

- The two of you sneaking countless of longing looks when the other isn’t paying attention

- And then scrambling to turn around when they look

- Both of you trying and failing to flirt 

- ‘i er, i like your shirt.’

- ‘thanks...i er. i like your face?’ 

- Tons of stupid jokes 

- And self depreciating one’s on both sides that sound funny in your heads but when said out loud, just makes the other person want to wrap them up in a hug

- You constantly hanging out together

- No matter if you’re at work

- Or at home 

- You rarely ever see one of you without the other far behind

- And maybe that has something to do with James’ separation anxiety 

- Everybody he has ever loved, has either died, or almost died 

- Or maybe because he feels found when he’s around you 

- And he’s gone through his whole life feeling lost. 

- You have movie days and game nights (he’s a sore loser) 

- Or if you both have a weekend off, you’ll go away somewhere 

- And have an adventure 

- They’re not crazy, or dangerous 

- He doesn’t have to be scared that something bad is going to happen to one, or both of you 

- He still has that anxiety, and he probably will have some of it for the rest of his life 

- But they’re still fun

- And they’re made even better because you’re there. 

- Once you both get really used to each other

- You spend nights talking about your past and you’re feelings 

- Usually they end in one, or both of you crying 

- But the other is always there to give the other a cuddle and tissue 

- He’s not really one for hugs and physical affection

- But when its you

- He really doesn’t mind 

- In fact, there’s not enough of it

- You spend that much time together that you have clothes at each other’s houses

- (and toothbrushes, blankets, favourite snacks, everything)

- The two of you have so many inside jokes 

- To the point where it annoys all of your co-workers 

- But that might be because you’re so obviously in love with each other but can’t seem to see it

-  One day 

- You’re both flirting 

- Well, trying to 

- It’s more stuttered compliments 

- And accidental innuendo’s that make you both blush

- They get so annoyed that they just kind of shout 

- ‘for the love of god, just get together already’ 

- And you both stop talking 

- And just stare at each other wide-eyed 

- ‘i er. do you erm. what?’ He stammers 

- ‘oh my god’ One of them throws their hands up before standing in front of you both 

- ‘james, do you like y/n?’ 

- ‘...yeah’ 

- ‘and y/n. do you like james?’ 

- ‘i, er. yes’ 

- ‘right. well i now pronounce you dating. so please go somewhere else and do all that lovey crap away from me.’ 

- You both look at each other

- Unsure of what to say 

- Before getting back to work 

- Both of you just trying to avoid each other 

- It works until you end up on a break together

- And then you can’t escape 

- So you have to actually talk about your feelings 

- Which you usually have no problem with... 

- When they’re linked to years worth of trauma 

- But these are happy feelings? 

- Well, more confusing than happy 

- But they could end happy 

- So what are you supposed to say?

- ‘do you actually like me?’ You ask 

- He’s been in a lot of scary situations

- But you asking that question is definitely in the top 5

- The last time he liked someone 

- He ended up on the run with them, after killing someone. 

- And then they were hunted down again

- After he was shot 

- Because of the whole killing thing 

- So its not exactly like he’s got a great track record 

- Plus, he really, really likes you 

- He doesn’t want to fuck you up

- He fucked Alyssa’s life up

- And he’s fucked his own life up

- But maybe

- Just maybe you’re what he needs

- He knows a relationship isn’t going to fix him

- Or the things he’s done 

- But maybe, its the start of something new 

- And something new is exactly why he moved here

- ‘i do.’ He nods

- You’ve never heard him sound so confident

- And a bright smile lights up your face 

- ‘i like you too.’ 

- And thats the beginning of the two of you

- You go on a first date 

- But he ends up being recognized in the restaurant 

- And some very un-kind words are said 

- So he has to pull you away from the man who told you to ‘be careful around him’

- You just go back to your place and watch a film

- And its perfect!

- The film sucks but thats not the point 

- Before he leaves 

- He asks if you’re sure you want to do this with him 

- Because ‘people are always going to be saying stuff like that about him’ 

- But you answer his question by kissing him

- And then he leaves quickly because he’s blushing really hard 

- And so are you 

- So as soon as he turns around, you slam the door shut 

- After a few months of dating 

- You move in together 

- You were practically already living together before you even got together 

- So it wasn’t that big of a step 

- Well it was for him 

- Because he’s living his life 

- And doing things he didn’t think he’d be able to do 4/5 years ago

- He’s in love with an amazing girl 

- And he’s living with her

- And most importantly he’s happy

- So, so happy

- For the first time in a long time 

- And he never wants to stop

- Because as long as your around 

- He knows he never will 

[unbridgeabledistances]

Prompt: mickey is walking with Franny when Terry shows up. Mickey protects Franny. Franny runs home where ian and family are and shouts that a man is hurting uncle mickey. Basically hurt mickey, protective ian. Ian conforting Mickey afterwards!

anon this is so GOOD !!! i LOVE some mickey & franny content, plus gallavich comfort :’) this is somewhat intense and got way too long lol, but the whole thing was so fun to write and i hope u enjoy <3

also my asks are open for more prompts! (since i am on winter break & bored out of my mind lol)

& ofc, tw for homophobia and physical violence

--

“C’mon kiddo! Bet you can’t catch me!”

“Yes, Uncle Mickey, yes I can!”

The sun was beating down onto the slushy pavement of the South Side, reflecting off the gritty late-winter snow that remained on the sides of the road and nearly blinding Mickey as he tried to lightly jog down the slippery sidewalk, just outside of Franny’s reach. Franny, who was a tottering bundle in her thick winter coat, a scratchy-looking red woolen scarf Tami had given her for Christmas, and a pink sparkly winter hat Debbie had forced over her ears before Mickey took her outside to play, was running as fast as she could to stay on Mickey’s heels.

Mickey hadn’t meant to take Franny as far away from the Gallagher house, into the winding South Side neighborhoods, as he had—Debbie was having some sort of meltdown about her business going to shit after a situation with organic snacks and climbing out a window (Mickey wasn’t even going to ask)—and sensing tensions were high, Mickey had pulled Franny out the back door to run around and play “gangsters,” her new favorite game, with the toy guns he’d gotten her for Christmas. They were going to stick to playing in the backyard, mostly because it was fucking freezing and almost dark outside, until Franny was about to encroach on Mickey’s fictional gang’s territory under the porch stairs, and of course Mickey couldn’t have that—so now they were racing through the streets, with Franny giggling and practically tripping over her own clunky winter boots every few steps.

“Is that all you’ve got, Wonder Woman? Come and get me!” Mickey called to Franny over his shoulder.

“I’m gonna get you! I will, Uncle Mickey!”

Mickey chuckled as he kept running, and felt his heart soften. As shitty as he’d always been with kids, and how often he always froze in panic anytime he’d had to take care of Yev back in the day, he had to admit that goofing around with Franny was pretty fucking fun.

And that also just made him depressed, because he knew that she was going to grow up surrounded by all of this bullshit—the dysfunctional family, Frank’s shenanigans, the drugs and beat downs, the mom with an ankle bracelet. Right now, Franny was just a kid—the neighborhood hadn’t taken its toll on her yet.

Luckily, Mickey didn’t have shit to do all day—he barely had a job aside from security for Kev and V’s practically non-existent pot side business, so he had plenty of time to play with Franny. If he could do anything with his life right now, he could make sure that Franny had some happy memories to cut through all the bullshit life was inevitably about to throw to her.

Mickey continued to run, lost in thought, until Franny caught up to him and sharply tugged on the back of his coat.

“I win, Uncle Mickey, I win! Now I’m gonna blow your face off!” Franny said with a playful scowl as she held up her toy gun.

Mickey chuckled and put his hands up in the air in resignation, turning to face Franny. “Alright, kid, you got me. Nice work.”

He held his hand out for Franny to high-five, which she gave willingly before pulling off her sparkly pink hat and throwing it on the ground.

“I’m too hot. Uncle Mickey, can we go home now? I think I know the way back.”

Mickey ruffled her hair. “Sounds good, kiddo. Lead the way.”

Just as they were about to start walking in the direction of the Gallagher house, a gruff voice came from behind them, mingling with the blowing wind.

“Mickey?”

Oh fuck.

Mickey turned around slowly, giving a quick mental prayer to whatever god that existed, if god even did fucking exist, that the voice he heard wasn’t the one he thought he had.

In the end, it was as bad as his worst nightmare.

Terry stood six feet in front of him on the ice-caked sidewalk, a lit cigarette dangling out of the corner of his mouth (just like it always was), his hands visibly curled into fists by his sides. Mickey took in a sharp breath, and tried to quell the wave of panic overtaking him. Calm the fuck down. Mickey tried to remember the checklist of what he always had to do when he saw his dad, a survival tactic he hadn’t had to think about for months: Keep your eyes down. See if you can smell alcohol. Look at his waistline and see if he has a gun.

Mickey’s eyes flickered to Terry’s pockets. No gun, thank fucking god. He slowly reached out behind him to take Franny’s tiny gloved hand, mentally cursing himself for letting them walk this far from home. Then he looked Terry in the eyes and swallowed. You can do this.

“Hiya, pops. What’re you doing over here on this beautiful Tuesday afternoon?”

Terry’s eyes narrowed, his stance still aggressive, but he remained rooted a safe distance away. “Don’t make fucking small talk with me, fairy boy.” He paused and took a drag of his cigarette. “Didn’t think I’d ever see you around here.”

“Well, I guess today’s your lucky day. About time for a family reunion.”

Terry gave a bitter, menacing chuckle that sent a shiver of remembrance down Mickey’s spine. “Who’s the kid?”

“Uh. It’s Debbie’s kid.” My niece, he bit back. My husband’s sister’s daughter.

Franny looked up at Mickey, not in confusion but in wide-eyed understanding. Franny was only five, sure, but she wasn’t stupid; she’d seen her fair share of violent shit go down on the street in front of her, and she knew what aggression looked like—what it looked like when someone was about to attack. Mickey looked back at her, and ever-so-slightly raised his eyebrows in what he hoped was a warning. Get ready to run, kid.

“Huh.” Terry threw his cigarette butt on the ground, slowly grinding the ash into the slush with the toe of his shoe. “Funny that you’re out here with her, all on your own. No one else on the street, not for blocks.”

Mickey exhaled, attempting to still his racing heart. On a different day, when he wasn’t so caught off guard by Terry’s presence, he would have ended this here and now; pulled a gun and put a bullet right through his father’s homophobic skull. But Terry was right—there was no one outside for miles, no one stirring behind the curtains of the houses lining the streets, no one to call for help if Terry physically overpowered him and kicked the life out of him. And Franny was still holding his hand.

“Yeah, well. We’re just goin’ for a walk. And we’re gonna head back now, if you’re… done.”

Terry held Mickey’s gaze, unblinking. When he spoke, his voice was low and ice cold. “When the fuck was I ever done with you?”

It all happened in an instant, but also in terrifyingly smooth slow motion—Terry charged at Mickey, fists raised, skidding across the ice in a blur.

“I’m gonna fucking kill you, you deformed excuse for a Milkovich!”

Terry was seething with the same fiery anger as when he flipped the table at Yevgeny’s christening, the night he found out that Mickey was gay—as he raced across the pavement, all Mickey could do was think about how to get Franny out of here before his father’s fist connected with his face. He gently shoved Franny behind him towards the sidewalk leading to the Gallagher house.

“Go, Franny, go!” He choked out, before Terry thrust a punch to his stomach and Mickey doubled over, kneeling on the damp sidewalk.

Terry’s shadow hovered over Mickey, and he knelt down, grabbing the hair at the scruff of Mickey’s neck. Mickey could smell his breath, all stale cigarettes and burnt coffee, like it had been for the past thirty years of his life.

“Been waiting a long time for this,” Terry said through his teeth. Mickey gathered every ounce of strength that he could— thank you, Kev Fit membership— and crashed his own head into his father’s, toppling him over and pinning him down. He quickly glanced over his shoulder, and saw Franny’s bootprints leading down the street, saw a flash of a red scarf turning the final corner a few blocks down. Thank god.

Terry squirmed under Mickey’s iron grip on his wrists. “Get off me, assfucker!”

“Sorry, Dad, no can do.” Mickey could almost grin. All he had to do was knock his dad out cold, and this whole thing could be over—

Out of nowhere Terry’s right arm broke free, striking Mickey’s side and toppling him onto the pavement.

“I’ve got you now,” Terry drawled, and that was the last thing Mickey heard before Terry’s boot stuck into his side and he saw stars.

**

The sun had almost set beneath the clouds, casting a warm glow through the front windows of the Gallagher house. Ian and Carl sat in the living room, engaged in particularly immersive debate about the accuracy of cop drama TV shows in an attempt to drown out Debbie’s continued melodrama of reading her bad Yelp reviews.

“Nah, man, I’m telling you, there’s no way an EMT would actually get to the scene that quickly anyways—"

There was a soft series of frantic knocks at the front door, so gentle Ian barely would have heard it if the TV volume wasn’t turned to a low hum. Ian sprang up and swung the front door open to… Franny?

A tear-stained, snow-soaked Franny, with matted hair and a scarf hanging half off her neck.

“Uncle Ian! Uncle Ian, we have to go help Uncle Mickey!”

What the fuck?

“Franny, what’s the matter?” Ian tried to gently guide her inside out of the cold, but Franny stomped her boots and shoved Ian’s hand away.

“We have to go now Uncle Ian! A man is hitting Uncle Mickey! We have to go quick!”

Ian froze. Shit. There were plenty of people who wanted an excuse to beat the crap out of Mickey, most of whom Mickey could take— but regardless, Ian didn’t want anyone fucking up Mickey’s parole.

“Oh, shit. Okay. Franny, can you take me to Uncle Mickey?”

Franny fervently nodded. “He’s up the street. I was chasing him when we were playing.”

Ian turned to call over his shoulder. “Hey, can anyone help me back Mickey up in a fight with some dude?”

Carl put his hands up in resignation. “Don’t look at me, man. I should be a mile away from any instance of Mickey breaking his parole.”

Sandy darted into the living room, from the kitchen where she had been consoling Debbie. “Mickey’s in a fight?”

“Apparently. He was playing with Franny down the road and now Franny’s back here.”

Sandy looked at the disheveled Franny standing in the doorway. “Shit. I’ll grab my shoes.”

“Uncle Ian, we have to go now!”

“Okay, we’re coming Franny. Lead the way.”

**

Franny guided them down the sidewalk, the three of them casting dark shadows onto the roadside piles of snow as the sun disappeared beneath the clouds. “This way!”

Ian didn’t really know what he was expecting to see as they turned the final corner, the street almost totally enveloped in darkness— maybe Mickey pinning some guy up against a wall, or in the back of a cop car. But he was certainly not prepared to see Mickey as a static heap sprawled on the sidewalk, while the unmistakable figure of Terry Milkovich stood above him, pummeling Ian’s husband.

Sandy noticed Terry’s presence before Ian could even react to what was going on. “Uh, Franny, hey, can you walk back to the house please?”

Before he knew what he was doing, Ian’s feet were sprinting down the street. “Terry! Get the FUCK off of him!”

Ian could barely register his body’s movements as he smashed his fist into Terry’s nose and tackled him to the ground. Terry spit in Ian’s face. “Fucking Gallagher!”

Ian hit Terry once again, keeping him pinned down. He struck him over and over, not stopping to process if he was even moving, or breathing, or fighting back.

“Hey! Everyone calm the fuck down!”

Ian looked up over his shoulder—Sandy was standing above them, pointing a gun directly at Terry, whose face was now bashed and bloody.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen, my dear Uncle Terry,” Sandy said in a sickly-sweet voice that didn’t match her iron gaze. “Ian’s going to get off of you, and you’re going to stand up and walk down the street back to your shithole house. And you’re going to watch your fucking back, because you never know when I could decide to come home one night while you’re asleep and make you regret everything you did this evening. Are we clear?”

Terry’s eyes narrowed, panting as he stayed pinned beneath Ian. “Those Gallagher queers got you too, huh?”

Sandy cocked the gun even more aggressively in Terrys direction, her thumb teasing the safety.

“That’s not how it works, dumbass. Unlike some pieces of garbage in this neighborhood, the Gallagher family actually cares about each other. Now—are we clear?”

Terry scowled at Ian, and gave a curt nod. “Get the fuck off me, fag.”

Ian didn’t budge. “Sandy, no,” Ian snarled.

“Ian, we’ll deal with him later.”

Ian looked up at Sandy, who met his eyes with an expectant gaze, still holding the gun directly at Terry. It took every ounce of strength Ian had to kneel and rise from the ground—it would be so easy to knock Terry out, to tell Sandy to pull to trigger, to put all the pain he’d caused behind them. To finally feel safe.

Terry immediately stood, and looked at Mickey on the ground, practically unconscious and his blood mingling with the snow. Terry opened his mouth to say some final retort— but Sandy clicked off the safety of the gun, steadily pointing it in his direction, and Terry promptly closed his mouth again. He turned and walked away.

Ian was immediately at Mickey’s side. “Fuck, Mickey, fuck.” Ian choked out. “Hey, look at me.”

Mickey had definitely hit his head, hard—there was a gash on his forehead dripping blood down his face, just like the night of Yevgeny’s christening when they’d watched Terry be forced into the back of a cop car. He looked up at Ian, his eyes drifting in and out of focus. Ian quickly scanned the rest of Mickey’s body—aside from a few solid kicks to the ribs, his head injury seemed to be the only major issue. Ian gently ran a hand through his hair.

“Mickey, hey, can you stand up? We’ve gotta get you home.”

First, get Mickey home— only then could Ian actually let himself process everything that had happened, and swallow down the bile rising from his stomach. First, Mickey had to be safe.

Sandy leaned over next to Ian. “Do you think we’re gonna have to carry him?”

“Uh, yeah I think so. Can you grab his legs?”

**

Mickey forced his heavy eyelids open, hazy and disoriented. He blinked, trying to clear the sleep out of his eyes. The blurry outlines of he and Ian’s bedroom, cloaked in darkness, slowly came into focus. He could feel the scratchy crocheted blanket on top of him, but aside from that his limbs were so heavy and numb he could barely move. A dull pain throbbed in the back of his head. Fuck.

“You awake?”

Ian was curled next to him in bed, not touching any part of Mickey’s aching body but leaning in close, nearly a centimeter away. Ian’s hand reached up and gently wiped a damp piece of hair off of Mickey’s forehead. Mickey winced.

“Sorry. How d’you feel?”

“I’ve definitely felt better,” Mickey croaked. “What time is it?”

“Almost 1 a.m. You’ve been out for a few hours,” Ian replied in a low voice.

“Shit.” Mickey closed his eyes. They were silent in the darkness for a few moments, but Mickey could feel Ian’s eyes on him. “My head fuckin’ hurts. What’s your prognosis, doc?”

“You definitely have a concussion. It probably won’t be a big deal in a week or two. You don’t need stitches or anything, though. And I did some EMT magic on your ribs, which mostly just means I put ice on them while you were sleeping.”

Mickey smirked, his eyes still closed—partially from the headache, but partially because he didn’t want to look Ian in the eyes yet. “Franny okay?”

“Yeah, she’s all good.”

“And, uh. Terry?”

He could feel Ian stiffen beside him. “Probably at home, being the same lowlife asshole he always has been. Sandy pulled a gun on him.”

Mickey opened his eyes, and could see through the darkness that Ian’s own eyes looked puffy and worn. It killed him to see Ian suffering, once again, because of him— it felt like they were always battling something at every turn, sure, but in Mickey’s case, it was almost always Terry they were fighting against.

“Fuck. When I’m less tired, and my body feels less like shit, remind me to go kill him, yeah?”

Ian laughed bitterly. “Yeah, I almost tried that tactic myself. I think Sandy scared the shit out of him, though. We’ll figure out what to do if he… acts up again.”

Mickey knew it was a lot more complicated than that, and that in the morning he would probably be seething and grabbing his guns and marching down to Terry’s house with fire in his eyes, but they didn’t need to dwell on that right now. Right now it was quiet, and Ian’s body was pressed against his, and Mickey was wrapped in a warm blanket in a bed with his husband. They were safe.

“I’ve thought I’d lost you thousands of times, Mick, but tonight really scared me” Ian softly whispered, cutting through the silence. “I thought… I don’t know, when I saw you on the sidewalk, I thought after all the shit your dad has said, I might’ve been too late.”

Mickey took a sharp breath in, making his ribs sting, while Ian kept talking.

“When you were in jail, or in Mexico, I knew you were always out there, and I guess knowing that always kept me going. But knowing I could have lost you again tonight—I don’t know, it scared the shit out of me,” Ian said, his voice breaking.

Mickey mustered all the strength he had, and slightly shifted his weight onto his left side to face Ian, whose eyes were glassy. Beneath all of Ian’s macho shit the past few weeks, it was so easy to look at him and forget that he was still also that tired, scared kid from the South Side that Mickey met ten years ago, one who didn’t know if good things could be permanent or if other people could stick around. Mickey put his hand up to Ian’s face, running his thumb up and down his cheekbone.

“Hey. C’mere.”

Ian wrapped his arms around Mickey—gently at first, like he was gliding his fingers over something precious, and then fully wrapping his arms around him, and burying his face in the hair on top of Mickey’s head. Mickey could feel Ian’s heartbeat through his thin t-shirt, feel the warmth radiating off of his biceps that encircled him. Ian pressed a kiss to the top of Mickey’s head, where his forehead met his hairline.

“I’m here, Gallagher,” Mickey whispered into Ian’s skin. “I’m not going anywhere. No one’s gonna change that shit.”

[kyber-crystal]

marvelinsanity’s forever follows

okAy so i was originally going to do this at the end of december but. i got lazy and distracted (idek how that works lmao) and ended up forgetting ab it. but here are some of the people that helped make quarantine a little less shitty and a little more bearable—thank you for giving me a reason to get up in the morning. 

i’m sorry i haven’t been very active lately and how i’ve been kind of distant. things have been rough and i haven’t written anything solid in weeks and to those anons waiting for their requests to be done, i’m sorry :( i hope you’ll understand. 

2020 came with many ups and downs and more late night depression sessions than i’d like to admit—it hasn’t gotten any easier this year—but i wouldn’t change anything at all. among all of my accomplishments i’m proudest of the fact that i finally found myself, made many new friends, and discovered what i was truly passionate about—writing.

to be honest, i never thought i’d get to where i am now but i’m so grateful that i’m here. taking some time out of my day to lose myself in my imagination and actually bring those ideas to life has to have been one of the best decisions i’ve made. i seriously don’t know where i’d be if it wasn’t for each and every single one of you i’ve had the privilege of having on this (rather chaotic) little blog of mine.

special mentions to my star wars simp nation people for becoming my found family. i love you all more than you know. thank u for putting up with my endless shitposting LOL @obirain @rentskenobi @bo-kryze @karasong @fettymercury @xwingsandohs @etherealsanakin @meshlababy and to @prequelsnet and everyone on it for being so welcoming and kind no matter what <3

new mutuals! @goldensatine @cafeobiwan @labyrinth-runner @myriadimagines @honeyedfloral you were all unexpected blessings but i wouldn’t have it any other way. i hope we can grow closer & here’s to many more pleasant memories in 2021!! i appreciate yall a lot. really : ‘)

to my oldest mutual and favorite swiftie @speechlessxx i’ve been following you for AGES and i can’t believe i’ve been following you for almost a year—thank you for being my older sister, mentor, and best friend and dog mom all rolled into one. i don’t know where i’d be without you now because you literally were the one who inspired me to start writing and KEEP writing. OH also thank u for screaming over taylor w me

@arkofblake jess. ur literally the best person ever and i’m so happy that i found someone who matched my energy perfectly bc. i can fangirl over edits with you and not worry about being judged. thank u for ur hydration reminders too <3 ur super swag fam

more lovely people i would love to write an entire essay on but can’t because i’d break my hands doing so, quite literally asdfasdf @padawanlost @ewanmcgregors @padmeamidela @anakin-danvers @dindjarindiaries @chokemeanakin @stardust-kenobi @starryeyedstories @kelieah @guacas @lilbabycee @johnboyuga @margeaery @ahskatano @benjiiskenobi @jlhpotters @badbctch @obaby-wan @dearspacepirates @sithdust @marvel-dameron @ohhellokenobi @beskar-tano @duskholland @outerims @arynfrompogonia @wecallhimbrowneyess @yeinnefer @anakinswhore @alideetoo

to my international twin @propertyofdindjarin i love u and i’m grateful for all our chaotic facetime calls that we have and for the fact that you’re such a supportive beta reader. you never fail to put a smile on my face whenever we talk and it makes me feel so good knowing i can always come to you for advice. i don’t know how the hell you do it but literally every time we’re talking i get huge bursts of inspo—thank you SO much for that you have no idea how many times you’ve prevented me from falling into a permanent slump.

and last but most CERTAINLY not least. @poesflygirl holy crap where do i even begin. words cannot explain how grateful i am to have met you. i don’t know what i even did to deserve someone as wonderful as you but i’m so so so so glad you came into my life, took one look at me, and decided, “yup, i’m sticking with her” despite the fact that i was far from what a typical, ‘normal’ friend might’ve looked like to you. it feels like we’ve known each other for years even though our five month friendiversary literally just passed??? what??? it’s crazy how time flies. 

thank you so so so so so much to all 1.2k of you who decided to stay with me for so long. thank you endlessly for putting up with my bullshit and all my shitposting and my typically chaotic self. i love you all so so much 

[atinybitofau]

S A N ➪ the breakup

THE ONE WHERE YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU REALLY NEED

warnings: may contain triggering content. (non-suicidal, social anxiety, depression)

• it’s not your relationship.

• it’s not.

• it’s definitely you.

• and San will fight like a soldier in battle,

• with no other reason to live,

• just to keep you forever.

• but you can’t take it anymore.

• because sometimes when your heart hurts too much,

• you forget about the people who are really trying to help.

• he just wants to hold you forever— his baby.

• he’s holding you.

• shaking.

• trembling.

• scared.

• just like you are.

• “No. No. Hey, baby. Hey look at me. I can help you. Help you through this.”

• but you don’t let him.

• you think it’s wrong.

• wrong to let him suffer helping you because you’re so broken.

• you think he’s cutting himself by holding you.

• “San! Let go of me!”

• you flail trying to pry your boyfriend’s hands away as he tries to keep you steady—

• gentle all the same.

• he loves you.

• “I love you.” he’s crying to you, trying to cup your crying face in his hands. “I love you. And I’ll be here for you, baby. You just have to let me.”

• you shove him harder than you think.

• it’s hurting him.

• how you hard you push him away.

• and seeing you so frustrated that it’s driving him insane.

• “No, San! Stop helping me. I don’t need your help. I don’t need you.”

• you keep insisting.

• you don’t know that he’s keeping you together.

• you’re so torn by hurting him because you’re so broken,

• that you don’t see that you need him as much as you love him.

• “Get out. Get out! Leave me alone and please for the love of god, San. Don’t come back.”

• so he leaves you.

• but not because he wants too.

• but because he can’t watch you tear yourself apart because you think you don’t need him.

• months pass and you aren’t any happier.

• no actually—

• fuck you, because you’re selfish, is what you’re thinking.

• losing San might be the worst thing.

• the worst feeling.

• you’re sad enough as it is.

• and you do that to San?

• the biggest ball of sunshine to ever live.

• the only thing ever to put a smile on your face.

• his.

• now you want him back?

• you’re dumb.

• “H-he’s dating her?”

• Seonghwa sips on his coffee while he confesses to you. “It wasn’t something he wanted to do. His parents just think that maybe since you aren’t in the picture anymore that he’d be willing to marry into family benefits. Of course, he’d never say no to his mom.”

• it kills you.

• Seonghwa knows you aren’t suicidal.

• just sometimes not always there because you feel different from others.

• like, crying before you sleep.

• hiding in a locked room for days because you’re afraid of hurting people’s feelings.

• he knew that your heart was weak.

• that you need someone who can hold you even though you push them away.

• no better than San. EVERYONE knows that.

• “You okay, y/n?”

• “Hm?” you blink up through wet eyes and smile. “Yup, happy. Happy for him.”

• the handsome boy raises an eyebrow at you not convinced. “He’s not happy. I just told you his parents forced him into it.”

• “H-he deserves somebody.. who can take care of him too.”

• Seonghwa knows what you mean.

• knows too that you broke up with San because you didn’t WANT him to take care of you anymore.

• that you think you’re a burden in his life. Much less of a child.

• but he also knows that’s not true.

• “You know, y/n.” Seonghwa reaches over to hold your hand, something you didn’t know you needed for a long time. “It’s okay to be with San. To tell him you aren’t okay and let him hold you.”

• a tear falls from your face from his reminder.

• “There’s no one. NO ONE. In this world that can tolerate the pain of holding a broken glass like San can.”

• he’s telling you softly in a way he’s not direct. so he doesn’t hurt your feelings. “Don’t wait for the glass to break completely where he’d have to pick up the pieces, y/n. A little cut here and there won’t hurt anyone. Won’t if they’re trying to save someone.”

• you’re nervous.

• biting down on your lip as you hold the fluffy stuffed animal San gave you years ago to ease your griefs— your panics.

• but when a woman very familiar to you opens his door.

• you can’t help but think the plush pillow wasn’t going to do much.

• “H-hi, is San home?”

• her eyebrow arches eyes raking you up and down before sneering.

• “And can I ask why you need to know?”

• “Oh.” You look down at your feet tightening your grip on the pillow.

• seeing white, dizzy,

• for a moment pretending it’s San’s hand holding yours.

• “U-um. I.. I just want to.” you stutter over your words. “I thought I could.. I could come and talk to him? I-is that okay? Is it a wrong time?”

• she looks disgusted at your presence.

• it doesn’t help your anxiety.

• the little devils in your head that grew when San was away.

• you feel like falling and your eyes are blinking more.

• lost— completely lost and just looking for San.

• “Is this your way of trying to run back to him? After what you did breaking up with him?! You think coming here to my boyfriend’s house would be okay?”

• you stumble back and you don’t notice.

• how hysterical this woman was being.

• and the normal right thing to do was punch her sqaure in the face.

• but your heart is too weak, it really is.

• especially when hearing someone else call him her boyfriend.

• you see a glimpse of pure black before someone hoists you up.

• holds you tight before you fall to the ground.

• you’re shivering in his arms and he’s more scared than you are.

• “Baby? Hey baby, no look at me. Look at me, you’re okay.”

• you gulp, eyes wide when San’s holding you.

• one hand on your back and the other on your cheeks.

• he’s frantic and hot, worried like hell when his arranged girlfriend attempts to hurt you.

• hurt his baby.

• “She’s nothing, okay?” he’s moving so he meets your wavering eyes to keep you from looking to the woman behind him. “Her mouth is shit. Doesn’t know what’s good for her. Don’t listen to her dirty words. Baby, look at me.”

• you frown, fumbling with his shirt when your panic settles.

• settles when you look at him in his glowing eyes.

• like a crystal ball that hypnotizes you to serenity.

• “I love you.” his forehead’s pressed against yours now that your breathing has calmed.

• likes to feel it when your heart goes from fast to slow against his chest.

• “You love me too, that’s why you’re here right baby?”

• you nod hands moving so you could hold him back.

• rare.

• he knows it.

• knows you don’t give him much affection sometimes, not that he minds.

• but he feels you finally try.

• and girl does it SEND him.

• “Don’t cry.”

• he’s caressing you like fine glass that’s so thin he could break it any second.

• but he’s the only one.

• only ONE who can touch it without breaking it.

• “I love you so much and I’m so glad you’re here. You came to find me all by yourself.”

• you kiss his lips.

• now that he’s brought you back.

• “I’m sorry.” you mumble to look straight up at him the way he deserves. “I’m sorry for saying fucked up shit that could’ve ruined you. Could’ve made things worse for me and you. I’m so sorry, San.”

• “No.” his eyebrows furrow. “You didn’t make anything worse. Don’t say that to me.”

• now that you’re back.

• you’re ready to take care of him too.

• “San, I’m not all there sometimes.” You admit even though his girlfriend’s watching from behind. “I know I’m a lot of trouble. Hard to handle— when I have my attacks and I’m about ready to break. And you’ve always been there.”

• “I don’t mind. You know that.” San’s always ready for you no matter what you throw at him. “I don’t give a shit even if you think you don’t need me. If I know you do, you do. Alright?”

• “I feel bad. For making you have to take care of me sometimes. I’m not a child and you should never feel like you have to take more care of me than you actually do.”

• “I’d take care of you forever.”

• you chuckle because sometimes San’s more hopeless than you are.

• “I have no idea.” you tell him. “I have absolutely no idea how you can put up with my crap sometimes.”

• “But I know though. I know.”

• he presses another kiss to your lips not removing his as he pulls his now ex girlfriend out of his house and replaces her with the both of you.

• arms tangled and body against the door.

• “It’s because I love you. So fucking much. No one can take care of you like me.”

• you giggle under his lips fingers grazing his flawless jaw.

• “I want to take care of you too this time. This time if you let me.”

• he lifts you up so your legs are wrapped around him and your arms rest on his shoulders on each side of his head.

• “Baby you’ve always taken care of me. You just never knew it.”

• you didn’t know that.

• didn’t realize cause you think you’ve got bigger problems than him.

• but he gets sad too.

• get’s angry too.

• states of panic too.

• but you’ve always been there to hold his hand.

• “I was thinking I lost you.” he’s pressing you so close, you feel like if you move you might break him. “Thought I’d never have you hold me again. That I’d never be able to take care of my baby again. That maybe you really didn’t need me anymore.”

• you shake your head against him, your laugh sending him to places better than heaven if they existed. “Even if I tell you I don’t. I think at this point we both know I do.”

• he kisses you again.

• more for closure than anything else.

• “I love you, y/n. So much it’ll kill me. So will you take care of me for a long time? As long as you can. As long as you’re able.”

• you obviously can’t say no.

• not when he needs you as much as you need him.

@atinybitofau

[damianwaynerocks]

Zuko & the Waynes - Chapter 3

Batfam/ATLA au

Description:  Prince Zuko, pre-finding Aang, falls into Gotham City. After being adopted by Bruce Wayne, Zuko finds himself enjoying life in this strange world. Zuko Wayne has a family who loves him unconditionally. Zuko Wayne is a hero, saving the innocents of Gotham City every night. But Zuko soon finds himself at the center of a plot that threatens to destroy not only this new world he's come to love, but also the world he's trying to leave behind.

A/N: okay, so the members of the titans and young justice team are different in this au.

Young Justice: Tim Drake (Red Robin); Cassie Sandsmark (Wondergirl); Kon/Conner Kent (Superboy); Bart Allen (Impulse)

Titans: Dick Grayson (Nightwing); Koriand'r (Starfire); Garfield Logan (Beast Boy); Rachel Roth (Raven); Jaime Reyes (Blue Beetle); M'Gann M'orris (Miss Martian)

Chapter 2 | Masterlist

Chapter 3:

"So, you remember the plan?"

"Yeah, we got it," said Cassie into her earpiece, having to raise her voice to be heard over the pouring rain outside. "Don't worry about us, we're fine."

"Good to know," Tim responded into the comlink.

It was the night of the auction. Zuko was wearing a black suit while Cassie was wearing a red dress. Both had their masks on. Kon, also known as Superboy, was sitting in the driver's seat. He was acting as their chauffeur, and was there as backup in case anything went wrong. Zuko rolled his eyes as he heard a slurping sound in his com link, presumably from Tim taking a sip of coffee.

 "That was gross," Kon sighed. "Don't do that." 

Tim ignored him. "Proud of you both. Remember, if the wrong person gets their hands on the magyntite, not even Superman will be able to stop them." He paused. "No pressure, though.”

"Wow, you're great at pep talks." Zuko adjusted the mask on his face, making sure it hid his scar. "You ready, Cassie?"

"I was born ready," Cassie responded with a grin. "Now, let's go, Henry."

"After you, Larissa." Zuko grabbed an umbrella and stepped out of the  self-driving black limousine they'd borrowed from Bruce. He went around to her side of the vehicle and opened her door for her. Cassie looped her arm through his, muttering a thank you as Zuko raised the umbrella above both of them. They walked into the casino.

 Just inside, a bouncer stepped in front of them. "How tall is the eagle's wingspan?"

"That means do magic," Tim said through the coms.

 "Uh," Zuko's mind raced as he tried to think of a spell on the spot. "Fire Dragon Iron Fist!" he finally said, and a ball of fire appeared over his closed fist. The bouncer nodded, and unhooked the red rope, allowing them to step inside.It was bright and loud and flashy, and Zuko had to stop for a moment to get his bearings.

 "You good?" Cassie whispered, placing a hand on his chest to steady him. "It's okay. Let's just go downstairs, follow me." She gently led him towards the back of this casino. Tim had told them that there was a staircase behind the bathrooms, and the basement was where the auction was taking place.They walked past the doors that said 'men' and 'woman' and opened the third door, revealing stairs going down to a concrete basement. "You okay now?" Cassie asked as they began to descend. 

 "Yeah," Zuko grunted. "I'm fine." They walked down a dark and damp hallway, a stark contrast to the bright lights and clean floors of the upper floor. The reached a huge room with a wrap around balcony overlooking the bottom floor. Many people, all wearing masks, were crowded together. 

"It's about to start, Mr. Henry," Cassie said. "Let's go sign in." The pair walked through the people until they reached the stairs leading to the bottom floor. Arms still linked, they walked down the stairs. 

"There's a ton of people here," Zuko mused. "I wonder what they all want to buy." 

Cassie shrugged. "Drugs. Artifacts. Who knows." 

They made their way to the middle of the throng of people and sat down in two of the chairs. The auction started soon after, and the words the auctioneer was saying sounded like white noise to Zuko. Finally, twenty minutes in, Tim's voice in his ear made Zuko flinch. "Magyntite is next," he said. "Be ready."

Sure enough, the man held up a silver briefcase. "Magyntite!" he yelled. "This drug is like Kobra Venom! Bulk up your muscles, lady and gentlemen. Do I hear... two million?" Zuko raised his hand and the same time another man did. The man glared at Zuko, who did the same.Back and forth this happened, Zuko and this man trying to get the magyntite. In the end, though, Zuko and Cassie got it for $45,000,000.

 "Holy crap," Cassie breathed as they walked back up the stairs. "That man wanted to kill you." 

Zuko hummed. "He isn't the only one." 

Cassie gave him an amused look."Is that so, Sir Henry?"

"Indeed it is, Lady Larissa."

Golden eyes gazed into blue for a second, both having small smiles on their faces.

  "Yo, you guys get it?"

"Uh, yeah," Cassie replied, breaking eye contact. "Yeah, we're heading back now." 

Zuko's face reddened. He hadn't felt any feeling similar to that since Mai, when he was thirteen. He shook his head to clear it. Don't be stupid, he told himself. Don't even go there. No chance of that happening.

"You good?" Cassie asked, raising an eyebrow under her mask. Zuko cleared his throat and nodded a little too quickly.

"Me? I'm great. Splendid. Never been better!" he babbled. "Oh Agni, I bet Kon is going crazy! Uh, let's go see him!" He linked his arm with Cassie's and half-led half-drug her through the club and out the door.

"And the lovely couple returns!" Kon cheered as Zuko opened the door for Cassie. "I missed you! Tim told me I couldn't listen to my podcast because I had to stay alert so I've been bored out of my mind."

"Oh, poor baby!" Cassie mocked. "Do you need a massage and a nice cup of tea?"

"I do, actually."

"Too bad, Superbrat."

 Zuko looked out the window. He missed his uncle's tea.

 Only 11 more months. 

___

The next morning, Zuko, Duke and Damian were at the table eating breakfast. Zuko was about to put a piece of bacon in his mouth when he felt eyes on him. Looking up, he frowned as he met Duke's eyes. "What?

Duke's eyebrows were furrowed in disbelief. "Dude, it's 7:00 in the morning. Why are you already dressed?" 

Zuko blinked. While the others were in their pajamas- Duke in an old t-shirt and shorts and Damian in his silk robe -Zuko was in jeans and a Ralph Lauren button-up, his hair in a topknot. He would've put shoes on, if it weren't for Alfred's no-shoes-in-the-house rule. "I'm used to getting up at dawn and getting ready. It's what I've done for three years."

Duke shook his head. "You're making me feel like a slob, Zu."

 "You will not feel that way for long," Damian spoke up. "For I hear Drake coming down the stairs." 

Sure enough, Tim walked around the corner, staggering to the table. He was in an over sized black Superman shirt and his boxers with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. His long hair was a mess, and the circles under his eyes made it look as though he had been punched in the face.  Alfred pulled out a chair beside Zuko, a cup of coffee already in his hand. Tim stumbled towards the chair, looking as though he was about to pass out. He sat down in the chair slowly, and Alfred immediately put the cup of coffee in front of him. Tim blinked slowly, before picking up the coffee and bringing it to his lips. 

"Well," Duke chuckled. "I no longer feel like a slob." 

Damian wrinkled his nose, scoffing at Tim. "You are a disgrace, Drake. Have some self respect." Tim stared at him owl-eyed in response.

 "Just give him like ten minutes," Duke said. "Anyways! So I heard you went on a mission last ni-"

"Master Duke!" Alfred interrupted him sharply. "Might I remind you the rules of breakfast?" 

Duke seemed to shrink into himself as he answered in a small voice, "No vigilante talk at the breakfast table." Alfred nodded in approval before going back into the kitchen. Duke turned back to Zuko. "Later."

Zuko hummed in response. 

--

As soon as breakfast was over, Duke ran to Zuko excitedly. "So!? How'd it go?"

"It went fine," Zuko replied. "I mean, we went in, got the stuff and got back in the car."

"That's it? No fights?"

"No fights."

"What about Cassie? Any emotions?" 

Zuko coughed, his eyes widening. "What!? No! Don't be stupid!"

Duke laughed. "Dude, you're gonna have to get better at lying if you want to join the business."

"Which could start right now, if you want." Zuko and Duke whirled around to see Bruce holding a cup of coffee. "You've been here for a month. You can fight and you're smart. You're welcome to start training today, if you want."

Zuko's jaw dropped. "Uh, yeah! That'd be great!" 

Bruce smiled."Fantastic. Go get changed into something comfortable and we'll start."

Zuko practically sprinted to his room, but before he could change, his phone chimed.

Cassie Sandsmark: good morning doofus

.Zuko grinned in spite of himself.

Zuko Wayne: good morning!

Cassie Sandsmark: how'd you sleep?

Zuko Wayne: great but i don't know if tim slept at all he's barely alive right now

Cassie Sandsmark: sounds like tim

Cassie Sandsmark: so when u joining the hero business

Zuko Wayne: right now,, I'm about to start training

Cassie Sandsmark: YAY TELL ME HOW IT GOES

Zuko Wayne: of course

__

Training, Zuko decided, was difficult. It'd been a month since he'd started, and while he was improving, he was sore and sick of computers. 

"If I have to break another one of Tim's codes, I'll kill myself," he groaned, flopping on to the couch beside Damian, who nodded. 

"Every time Drake speaks, I want to kill myself." Zuko eyed him wearily.

"That's harsh."

"Such is reality." Damian flipped to the next page of the book he was reading. "So, your first patrol is tomorrow?" 

Zuko grinned."Yeah. I'm so excited." He sat up, cracking his knuckles. "Gonna be a blast."

"Are you finally adequate at lying?" 

Zuko winced. "It took me a while but yeah, I got it."

 "Good. We cannot have you exposing our secret." He looked up from his book. "Christmas is next month. Pennyworth instructed me to inform you that he needs a list of what you wish."

Zuko groaned. "I have no idea what I want."

"Well, figure it out," Damian replied. "Because if you do not, I'll have to listen to the complaining."

__

It was the night of his first patrol. Zuko turned to the mirror. His suit was a black kevlar lined jumpsuit with an obsidian utility belt and combat boots of the same color. There was a blue bat symbol across the chest, and a demon-type stage mask of the same color on his face. He looked at the blue gauntlet on his wrist and flexed his arm.

Dick whistled lowly. "Lookin' sharp, Zu."

Zuko grunted in response, but he couldn't stop the corners of his lips from twitching upwards.

"Good to see you suited up," Bruce said as he saw his son. He turned to the Bat Computer and typed something in. "Alright. Nightwing and Robin, you take the east side. Red Hood and Black Bat, you take the west. Red Robin, you take south. Blue Spirit and I will take north."

"You got it, boss man," said Jason with a mock salute. At that, the vigilantes headed out.

"Remember," Bruce began as he and Zuko got into the Batmobile. "Code names in the field." Zuko nodded.

"I won't forget, Batman."

"Good to hear, Blue Spirit." 

After a few minutes if driving, Oracle spoke. "Croc is robbing a store on the corner of North and Order," she said. "Blue Spirit and Batman are closest."

"We're on it," Bruce said, and sped up. 

They reached the corner in five minutes, and jumped out of the car. "Croc!" Bruce yelled.

A huge reptilian humanoid turned toward the voice, and smiled. "Batman!" he chirped. "And who's this?"

"Blue Spirit," Zuko said stiffly. 

Killer Croc chuckled."New kid to destroy? I love that." 

Croc rushed him, snapping his jaws viciously. Zuko jumped into the air, doing a flip over the creature. Fire blasted out of his elbow and he punched Croc in the snout as he turned. 

Croc stumbled back. "Igniting your elbow to increase the force of your punch? Smart. Not smart enough." He ran towards Zuko again, claws outstretched, moving at inhuman speeds. Zuko ducked under his claws and gave an uppercut with the same advantage into his stomach. Croc was thrown into the air by the force. Before he could land, Zuko sent a blast of fire at him, engulfing him in flames. Croc screamed and fell to the ground, charred and smoking.

 "He's still alive," Bruce said gruffly. "Not bad. I'll call Gordon." Zuko's chest swelled with pride, but he simply nodded. 

"There's a robbery at the R&D center of Enterprises," Oracle said suddenly.

"Blue Spirit and I are going to check it out," Bruce answered.

"10-4," Dick replied. "Call if you need backup." Bruce grunted in response and, gesturing for Zuko to follow, jumped back into the Batmobile before speeding off.

"R&D?" Zuko echoed what Oracle had said earlier. "What's that?"

"It's the Research and Development Center," Bruce replied. "It's where we store Batman Inc. tech that's still in production."

"Oh."

“That's right. If anyone succeeds in getting their hands on what's in there-"

"-They'll get their hands on everything." Zuko bit the inside of his cheek. "It's fine. We can do this."

A hint of a smile ghosted across Bruce's lips, so small that Zuko wasn't sure if it'd even been there in the first place.

__

The Research and Development Center of Wayne Enterprises was primarily used to develop advancements in technology. These advancements ranged from more effective cancer treatments to new engines for vehicles.The blueprints listed the building as being eight stories. Unbeknownst to the majority of WE's employees, there was a basement. A basement hidden far below the actual building, so far below than an express elevator was needed. This basement was where the technology for Batman Inc. was developed.

Unlike the secret basement of Falcone's club, this basement was in pristine condition. It had a hospital feel to it, with white flooring, walls, and ceiling. 

Bruce and Zuko had just grappled down the elevator shaft was landed at the end of one of the basement's hallways."The only alarm that's been triggered was the entry alarm," said Bruce. "The rooms where the... merchandise are kept have separate alarm systems. Can you tell me what this means, Blue Spirit?"

"The intruder either doesn't know what exactly is down here, or they just haven't managed to get into the rooms yet." Zuko frowned. "Wait, if they figured out this place was here then that means they definitely know what's down here. So then they haven't found the location of the 'merchandise.'"

"And you believe that to be the most probable scenario?"

"Well... yeah. I mean, unless they managed to bypass the alarm system. But that's impossible, this place is un-hackable ever since that incident with Ra's al Ghul. The security system is invincible. Right?"

"Rule of thumb, Blue Spirit," Bruce grunted, raising his arm closer to his face to he could activate his gauntlet. "Nothing is invincible. Everything has a weakness. Some are harder to find than others, but the only thing that is truly invincible is God Himself. And I don't think He would have any reason to break into Wayne Enterprises."

"Okay, but they tripped the alarm when they came in," Zuko pointed out. "So they must not have been able to hack the system."

"Unless they want us here."

Zuko sucked in his teeth. "So that's what you think? This is a trap?"

"It isn't a trap if we know about it," Bruce countered. "Here, I'm pulling up the motion sensors." Sure enough, the holographic screen coming from the gauntlet showed motion in room 121.

"Is that one of the rooms?" Zuko asked. 

Bruce nodded."Yes." He and Zuko started to run in the direction of the before mentioned room. "There's very dangerous technology in there. We need to stop this intruder now." The two were sprinting, taking twists and turns through the winding hallways until Bruce stuck his arm out, signaling for Zuko to stop. In front of them was room 121, the door ajar.

"Holy crap," Zuko whispered. "They hacked us."

"They hacked us," Bruce echoed. "And now they're going to pay. Manuever 13. Be cautious." Bruce rolled a metal ball into the room, and it exploded into smoke Using the smoke as cover, Zuko and Bruce dashed into the room. 

Using the heat signatures to see through the smoke, Zuko jumped forward, swinging down his broadswords in arc. His eyes widened as they hit air; the person had disappeared."What-" he broke off as someone landed a hit to his spine. Zuko whirled around, kicking out at his attacker, yet his foot hit air as the assailant dodged again.

"A teleporter?" he muttered. A laugh hit his ears, and the assailant landed another hit to the back of his head. Zuko tried to return the hit with one of his own but, of course, he missed.So far, Zuko noticed, they were teleporting closely around him. They were staying in close proximity with him. It would be hard to deduce where exactly they would strike, unless he limited their options.

Zuko stomped on the ground, and a ring of fire flared up around him. The attacker led out a gut wrenching scream as they were caught in the flames.He caught a glimpse of a person in a black suit clutching their arm before they teleported above his head, aiming a dropkick above him.

 But Zuko had anticipated this. He grabbed their leg from above and slammed them on the ground. They landed with a crack and coughed.

"You just broke my spine, you asshole," the person wheezed. They were still now, and Zuko could see she was a girl with long brown hair in a wine-colored robe. 

Zuko gulped, forcing down the rising panic at the girl's words. "Maybe you shouldn't have tried to break my skull."

The girl shrugged. "Just following orders."

"Who are you!?" Zuko snarled. "Tell me! Who are you and what do you want with this technology!?"

"Well, if you must know," the girl said, pain evident in her voice despite her calm tone. "I am but a servant of The Lady of the Dual Skies."

"The Lady of the Dual Skies?" Zuko echoed. "What does that mean?"

"Nothing's taken," Bruce said as he crossed his arms from where he stood behind Zuko. "Nothing has even been tampered with. You clearly weren't looking for anything here. So what did you want?"

"The Lady does not permit me speaking with anybody but you." The girl was speaking directly to Zuko, not sparing Bruce a glance. "She has something she wishes you to know."

Zuko narrowed his eyes behind his mask. "And what would that be?"

The girl grinned wickedly. "She says she'll see you soon."

With that, a portal opened up under the girl and she disappeared in a flash of purple light.

[yakocchi]

A White Day Dedicated to You (Part 2) Collection Event // Count

hey, hope everyone’s been doing all right in light of rl events and all. now that i’m suddenly forced to a life of indoor solitude for who knows how long, i guess there’s little else to do than to do some translating crap for practice and stuff. idk

...yea so white day was a week ago but i felt like it would be right to do this story bc this event was actually a continuation of the Valentine’s Day stories from a month ago. It’s only called part 2 because now that the roster is quite large, they’ve decided to split events so they can siphon more money ehe

Spoilers Behind the Cut

(The stories for this event were written in a His POV format)

On a silent March night…

(I wonder if this gift… will be to Kara’s liking?) Hiding my mischief and desire behind a mask of diligent maturity, I pay a visit to Kara’s room.

[Count]: “I’m here with my thank you gift for Valentine’s Day. Surely you would not mind if I come in?” [Kara]: “Oh, of course. Ah, it smells nice…” Entering the room, I set down a tray with a tea set on the table. [Kara]: “And this is…?” [Count]: “It’s a special type of tea. …A cacao tea.” [Kara]: “Ca- By ‘cacao’, you couldn’t have…” Apparently taken aback, her eyes widen. (It seems that she hasn’t forgotten that day.)

[Kara]: “Umm, then, are you… all right…?” [Count]: “Mm, about that…” [Count]: “…This need to feel you right here, right now is of course, inevitable.”

At the time, so as to not potentially break her, I had desperately suppressed my overwhelming lust… But it was Kara herself who tantalized with her purity and abruptly broke down my self-control.

[Count]: “Yes, it is indeed made with the same aphrodisiac cacao.” I give a meaningful smile, and she returns my gaze with blazing cheeks.

[Kara]: “But why? Even without something like this, I like yo-“ [Count]: “I was thinking that I would like you to experience the same feeling I did.”

[Count]: “As if you’ve gone delirious with heat... I want you to want me.” [Kara]: “Mn…” (Kara is always shy and is somehow rather hesitant to be assertive.) Even now, the sight of her with dyed cheeks is radiant and lovely, but…

[Count]: “No matter what happens from here… Just like with last month, you can blame it all on the aphrodisiac.” [Count]: “For last Valentine’s Day, that is my gift to you.”

hey u. white day is supposed to be a thank you gift this is just a barely-disguised gift for yourself. has getting a grillfriend made your sane ppl brain into a galaxy brain what is this

She pours the liquid into the teacup, and stares at the rising steam with a stiff expression. [Kara]: “…All right.” [Kara]: “But, it’s a bit… scary.” [Count]: “’Scary’?” [Kara]: “With you in front of me, I’m wondering if it’ll really turn out fine in the end…” (There’s no need for such reservations.) The wild lust from the depths of my heart slowly bleeds out to reveal itself.

count: the chocolate made me really horny haha that was bad, huh narrator: but the reality that he was really horny all the time

[Count]: “It’ll be all right. No matter how you are, it’s all adorable to me.” (So that’s why I’ll…) Taking the cup from her hands, I take the tea into my mouth before drawing her head towards mine. [Kara]: “Ah…” Meshing our lips together I force her to drink, and I could hear the gulps from her throat. [Count]: “You drank it. …Good girl.” With a single drop trailing down from her lips, I peer into her eyes. [Kara]: “Mn… ah… What, is this… my chest, is on fire…” (I want to touch you gently. Regardless of the time or place, I want to spoil you and melt you in such ways.) (But, even as I wish for such things… It seems that this night, too, will only leave those desires as simple hopes.) As on this night also, I will surely make her cry. While bitterly smiling at this prediction of things to come, I casually lift her up into my arms. [Kara]: “Count… My body’s, all hot…”

[Count]: “Show me… Show me your disheveled self.” She continues to raggedly pant, her eyes moistening with tears. Gazing at her form, in which her gaze oozes with an anticipation she cannot bear to hide… I quietly drop a kiss on her love-drugged lips…

...

me: oh wow they’re doing a continuation story for white day me: well if it’s the count he’ll probably get her a cute dress or maybe a necklace. or maybe some sweets. idk it’s impossible for him to mess this up he could make getting a pinecone seem lovely game: he regifted the horny drugs. poorly

me:

I feel like getting him upgraded to 恋人 only made life more difficult for mc

[onisiondrama]

PART 8 - video #14 & #15

(Click here for video mirrors)

[I just want to note: these are not my thoughts or words. I’m only summarizing what Greg / James is saying in his videos for people that don’t want to listen to him. I had a couple messages in my inbox from people who (I think) misunderstood what I’ve been posting, so I wanted to clarify I’m not defending Greg lol.]

the did nots

- Greg says someone named Kelly wrote him. He asked her to watch one of the many videos about him and tell him what the accusations were because he wants to address them because it’s easy and fun for him. - 4:25 His ex claimed she had a seizure and he was the cause of it. - He asks how could he be the cause of a seizure? Unless he hit someone over the head with a rock. Despite what people say about his brow, he’s not a caveman. - He didn’t call an ambulance and he recorded it for a Youtube video. - Greg says she faked the seizure. She had done it twice before. One of those times when he went to call an ambulance she popped up and snapped out of the seizure. If you met someone like that you’d understand, but it takes life experience to understand who they are. - 6:00 Claimed he groomed an underage person. - Says grooming isn’t calling someone a c-u-n-t. That’s like brushing your hair with razor blades and lemon juice. - 7:38 Greg targets vulnerable people. - Says it doesn’t make any sense. Are all these people damsels in distress? Are they incapable of defending themselves? Sarah was arrested for beating the crap out of a grown man. Not vulnerable, actually scary. So scary he spend the night in the garage because he was afraid she’d murder him. She had a full gremlin face. People like talking without knowing and call themselves reporters. - 8:31 Kai send and received explicit photos. - Says we no, Kai hates p-o-r-n. People make these claims with no evidence. You don’t have to give $20,000 to some a-hole, you just need legitimate concrete evidence. No one does that because no one has it. He’s seen people threaten to fake evidence. He’s seen screen shots of people who want to create fake evidence with deep fakes. If you wanted something done you should have talked to a lawyer and handled it privately, now the case is manipulated and contaminated. The livestreams contaminated everything. It’s a circus. - 8:00 Two people argued over who will take someone’s virginity. - He says “retarded” isn’t a good enough word for that. No one would argue about taking someone’s virginity unless you’re talking past tense. He says that’s totally different. They didn’t take her virginity. Kai did nothing and just layed there. [He talks about the crime against Sarah again.] People shouldn’t say Kai likes CP. That’s crazy, kids are disgusting. Nothing is attractive about them. Snot, my little pony obsession, backpacks, they don’t understand anything in the world. - 9:07 Claimed he instigated and had a threesome with someone then kicked her out shortly after she turned 18. - He says no. He says one person was receiving oral and he made love to the 18 year old but they weren’t kicked out shortly after. They were kicked out when they said he needs to impregnate them when they were “mano y mano” with each other in hopes the three of them would come together and be poly. He realized she didn’t care about the other person. - Greg abused his ex. - He asks if it’s the one that cheated on him and got pregnant with someone else’s baby? One time he called the cops on her because she threatened to kill herself and make it look like he did it. That person? Asks why no one considers the abuse toward him. Threatening to make it look like he murdered her is a crime. If he sold prescription pills, he’d be in jail. Sarah sold pills and she told him her mom tried to set her up to marry a guy for a green card and he’d pay her. Those are crimes. He thinks Sarah’s mom is innocent because after everything Sarah said about them they can’t believe anything. It’s loco Sarah shit. She admitted to doing cocaine too. - He dated Shiloh when she was underage. - He says you finally got something- [he cuts off and nods his head]. She was 17. They were both in areas it was legal and he was 24. The police looked into their relationship and checked stuff and they were good to go. Someone tried to get him in trouble, but he knew the law. When you love someone you don’t worry about taboo. - 11:08 Greg had an affair with her while he was still with Skye. - He says if his pp is 3,000 miles long maybe. He didn’t meet her until he filed for divorce. He says this person is an idiot and is spreading slanderous statements. How can you cheat with someone who is on the other side of the country? He laughs and says Skye’s last name isn’t Tantaga, that’s her username. He got a plane ticket when he was already filed for divorce. - 11:55 Shiloh may have been 16 when they first met. - He says he didn’t even talk to her until November 2010. He says look up her birthday she was 17 1/2. “Fucking facts yo.” Why don’t people care about the truth? -14:24 Greg made videos about ex girlfriends that were filled with lies. - He sarcastically says, “very specific, very proof.” No logic, just say “they lie.” - 22:17 Greg had photos from 12-17 in various states of undress on a forum. - Greg says you could just prove that if it’s true. Everyone forgets that website was 18+ and was heavily moderated. “Fucking idiot.” - 23:50 Greg removed forums because they were being investigated. - He asks what forums? He didn’t have forums and he doesn’t care about Hansen. He’s the one that called the cops on Hansen. The cops weren’t there for Chris Hansen, they told Greg to file an anti-harassment protection order against him. There’s nothing to fear. Chris Hansen is an old man and his last job contract wasn’t renewed because someone sued for $100 million and won. The only things to be afraid of are his douchiness and his creepiness. “Fuckin’ boomer.” - 26:10 Youtuber admits he gets more views when he talks about Onision. - Greg says finally something truthful. When this guy talk about anything that doesn’t have to do with Greg it’s like [thumbs down and laughs]. Greg tells them you know what you do and you don’t actually care. - Greg silences ex girlfriends by threatening to sue. - Greg asks when did this happen? He doesn’t remember that. If he did that it didn’t work. The girls are re-tweeting people threatening to burn his house to the ground. Sarah tweeted she wants to psychically attack him. He says she is going to be no one’s victim because she’s a fighter and he’s scared of her.  - Greg has 7-8 other victims, possibly more. - Greg says that’s a tough sell because these people aren’t his victims, they’re just people he dumped. He says it’s like high school when people break up and they start rumors about each other. Youtube is high school 2.0. - 29:00 Kai is a victim and was underage when the relationship started. - Greg says Kai was 17 1/2, but told Greg he was about to turn 18. When Kai revealed the truth Greg already fell for him. He doesn’t agree with the victim part because they’re still married. This Youtuber should let kai speak for himself and not speak for people and pretend to be their hero. “Douchebag” - 29:10 Greg violated the mann act, accuses him of human trafficking. - Greg says if that happened, then prove it. When and how did he violate the mann act? - 30:15 He forced someone into signing an NDA and forced her to remain silent after they kicked her out. - Greg says Sarah said she wouldn’t sign the NDA unless she gets what she wants, which was sex. Later on she apologized for r-a-p-i-n-g them. He doesn’t know if she denied it yet, but she probably will. What she did was extortion and was a crime. Says this guy should make a hate video about Sarah now if he really gave a shit. - Greg took advantage of Kai because he was a fan, but that’s subjective. - Greg says stop speaking for Kai. Nobody asked Kai. - Greg groomed Kai. - Greg gives the same response. He says Sarah said she wasn’t groomed. She said “if anything I groomed you” and they thought it was funny until it was real. - Kai had a tinder. - Greg says that was for a video. It was a joke. He calls the Youtuber a joke.  - Says he might respond to more because he doesn’t gibe a fuck anymore. He tells people to join OnisionFans.com to DM him questions.

oh my

- He apologizes from the heater noise. He says certain people get mad at him when he turns it off for videos because it makes the house cold. - He’s not sure if he’s being left now for speaking out. He doesn’t know what Kai is going to do now that he’s speaking out. - He wants to talk about the “investigation” (air quotes). He says he doesn’t take it seriously because he knows what actually happened. [Sarah NDA story for the 100th time] If an officer investigated the situation, he would arrest Sarah instead of Greg. Greg also has a witness who was also heavily pressured. You never heard this story from Sarah because she’s a fraud, a liar, she has BPD, she has a number of mental problems. Sarah wouldn’t say anything that would get her in trouble, but Greg said things that might get him into trouble about pressuring Kai. He did that because he felt bad for Sarah, but he should have had no sympathy for her like her mother. Her mother saw her for who she really was, one of the most toxic people he’s ever met. [Locked himself in the garage story.] When Sarah’s mad at you her eyes go from brown to black. - He says a lot of people will agree with him because it’s common sense. About Hansen and his crew, you don’t talk about a open investigations. You don’t try to monetize people’s pain when you’re trying to pursue them legally. You’re supposed to catch them by surprise.  - He says when Chris had a show about people who went after 12 year olds, Chris didn’t warn them and tell them he was looking into them. He didn’t make a 9 month series about how terrible they are, then tell them he’ll go to their house to get them. He says it doesn’t make any sense. - Chris is getting donations and ad revenue. These girls feel sorry for themselves because they were dumped. Now they’re vengeful and malicious and they want to get back at him because they probably still want to be with him. If he never dumped them, would they still be together? They never dumped him except when Shiloh dumped him for h-e-n-t-a-i. He thinks they would still be together. Why are they only mad at him after he rejects them? - Hansen is paid to say there is a crime here. Greg saw Hansen allegedly stated he didn’t care about any of them and just wanted money, but he doesn’t believe that. He also saw Hansen hired someone named Anonymous Gene to dox Greg and his whole family. Greg says that doesn’t make sense to dox his whole family. It takes an evil person to do that.  - When you have an investigation, you are supposed to stay silent then you catch them by surprise, take their stuff, and try to find something that would prove they’re guilty so they don’t have time to hide anything. - He has never spoken to Regina before as far as he knows. He thinks Regina is ugly. When Regina started talking to Kai when Kai was 17 so anything Regina has to say in nonsensical because of their ages. Kai denied anything was exchanged and isn’t interested in p-o-r-n. Kai is a beta male cuck, nervous, scared, anxiety disorder person, which is why he didn’t want Greg to talk about anything. Regina is a scumbag, horrible human. Regina is now working for Hansen and that’s a conflict of interest. You can’t have a witness work with someone who is making money going after someone. That’s absolute corruption. - Now people are saying they have evidence on him, they have a laptop. Spoiler alert, if you have evidence you tell someone they have it so they can get a warrant. It’s ridiculous because he has nothing of interest, but if he did the audience would have tipped him off forever ago. This was all handled horribly. He saw the other day he saw a public figure say”I hope we get this guy” with no evidence that Greg is guilty. You can’t do that, that’s slander. - The person who had the laptop before Sarah was a woman and she would have never looked at CP. It went from a woman, to another woman who apparently held onto CP for years, said she brought it to the police who did nothing, got it back, sent it to Vince, Vince sent it back. Vince got fired and changed Chris Hansen’s site to his mugshot. Greg says he was told Chris Hansen’s site now redirects to OnisionFans.com. He thinks that’s weird and funny. - Sarah started off by saying she was not groomed and only had her feelings hurt. Then people started working her up and her story progressively became something else. - This is the sloppiest investigation he’s seen in his life. He can’t believe the lack in professionalism. This isn’t a reality show, it’s real life. Greg is worried for Hansen because he put his whole career on this [he lists Hansen’s financial troubles] and if he doesn’t find something legit he’s screwed.  - [Sarah laying in his lap story.] Greg thanks Sarah for describing his junk as “perfect.” “It’s just so perfect.” [Sarah being loud story again.] He says she complained he didn’t use the wand on her after he broke up with her. [He shrugs.] Says he meant to but didn’t get around to it. - So your investigation is a guy who had sex with an 18 1/2 year old? This person sexually extorted and blackmailed them. You should investigate her. [He lists supposed crimes she committed.] Greg said she had no idea these were crimes until he told her. “Idiot.”

[peterthepark]

crush culture - [two]

call it fate, call it caffeine

pairing: steve harrington x reader

summary: coffee can help with a lot of things - and one of them entails becoming closer to your crush.

warnings: strong language, caffeine, FLUFF, uses of social media and brief mentions of cheating

A/N: loved writing this chapter a lot. hope u enjoy everyone! :)

Drumming your fingers against the counter, you began to adjust the obnoxious green hat on your head, frowning at the long line of customers before you. It wasn’t that you hated your job - you just... preferred not doing it (which in your opinion, was completely valid, despite how ridiculous it sounded). However, you did like caffeine and the perks that came with being an employee at your favorite shop. You’d see cute guys sometimes - they’d order the most blasphemous things off the menu - and sometimes you’d gain the courage to ask them out after your shift. Most of the times, they’d say yes, recognizing you from their classes or in the hallways on campus. Exchange numbers, plan the first date, show up, and let it all unfold naturally - yet nothing progresses.

Your love life was bitter, unlike how you liked your coffee.

You squeal excitedly when Nate Mendoza walks through the double doors, calling out your name with a sing-song voice. Of course, you cherished your dear friendship with your roommates, but Nate was just that one friend you couldn’t shake off or forget - no matter the circumstances.

He was also undoubtedly attractive: his blue eyes, a stark contrast to his dark hair. But despite the many rumors and claims that the two of you have been dating, he had a girlfriend back home; you had a strictly platonic relationship with the boy, who was almost like a brother to you.

“What’s up, Y/L/N?” He high fives you over the counter, attempting the handshake that you had developed over the course of your friendship. “Can I get, uh...”

“One chocolate chip cookie with a vanilla latte?” You smirk proudly, having memorized his order as well. He nods with a wide grin, handing you his credit card. “Coming right up, Mendoza.”

Conveniently, you were nearing your break. So after you had gotten Nate’s order sorted, you approached him with his pastry and mug, setting it down on the little corner table that he loved to sit by. You complimented his outfit, and cooed at how long his hair had gotten. Living in Chicago made it difficult for you to hang out with Nate, but he mostly would drive down for the holidays to visit.

“Has it been that long?” You nod your head, counting the amount of months that he’s been M.I.A. “That’s crazy! Alright, tell me about college. Give me the whole experience.”

“Okay, well. It’s not too great. Lots of coffee and studying - a lot of them being for pointless shit that I’m pretty sure I won’t need when I get my actual job. Uh, parties. I literally went to a party like yesterday! You should’ve told me you were in town! I would’ve brought you along.” You nudge his hand from across the table, smiling when he offers you a piece of his cookie.

“Fuck, man. I’m too tired for parties.” He smacks his lips together, wagging his index finger at you as he waited for the right words to come to him. “Ah! Have you gotten a boyfriend yet? Or - or a girlfriend for that matter?” You shake your head with disappointment. “It’s probably cause your game is weak.”

“Okay, okay!” You laugh at him, covering your mouth as you chew on his food. “I’m not - I don’t know, Nate. I guess I just haven’t been looking for anyone? M’too busy for that shit.”

“That’s because you aren’t supposed to look.” Nate scoffs, causing you to glance up at him in interest. “That - that special person is supposed to come to you. Trust me, when the-“

“Time is right, it’ll happen.” You give him a small smile. “Hopefully I won’t have too wait that long.”

Sadly, your break is over after talking to Nate for what felt like ages. You retreat to the register once again after washing your hands, putting on a cheery front for customers. Nate insists that he’ll stay for the rest of your shift, wanting to spend more time with you afterwards.

Collecting your things, you sling your purse over your shoulder, nodding your head towards the door so that Nate follows. The frigid air bites at your skin, and you curse yourself for not bringing a jacket.

“Here, take mine.” Nate shrugs his off, draping it over your smaller frame.

“God, have you even washed this shit?” You joke, tugging it tighter around yourself for warmth.

“Yeah, I have. Like maybe four months ago.”

“You disgust me.” You chuckle, shoving his arm.

You’re rounding the corner of the sidewalk when you see a familiar face approach: brown fluffy hair, denim jacket, and a red bike - yeah, that’s definitely Steve Harrington.

“Oh, we should go back,” You’re about to turn around until Nate glares at you, narrowing his eyes at you suspiciously.

“Alrighty, then. I’m not gonna question it.” He shrugs, following you once again.

The universe is a fucking bitch. You take it all back.

“Y/N?”

You and Nate pause in your steps, and you have no choice but to face him.

“Oh, hey, Steve. Funny, uh, funny seeing you here.” You grin, ignoring the dirty look that Nate was sending him.

“Hey, yeah. Um, what are you up to? I was just - just gonna go get coffee at Fran’s.” His eyes flicker to Nate, visibly eyeing him up and down.

This was the guy who was in the picture with you.

Steve masks the scowl on his face with a easy smile, pulling his earbuds out of his ears.

“I actually just finished my shift there.” You sway from one foot to the other, hands tucked beneath Nate’s jacket. “Sucks we didn’t get to see each other.”

“Well, good thing I ran into you then.” You dip your head at the remark, and before you can continue again, Nate is holding his hand out for Steve to shake.

“Don’t think we’ve ever met. I’m Nathan.” There was a tone in your friend’s voice that you couldn’t place, and suddenly, he seemed intimidating. Poor Steve seemed uneasy. You don’t miss the tiny twitch in his eye when Nate squeezes a bit too hard. “And you are?”

C’mon, Nate. Why do you have to be such a fucking asshole to him?

“Steve. Uh, you guys are... friends?”

You nearly jump when Nate’s arm snakes around your waist, pulling you into his side. “Something like that. Yeah.”

Oh, this dickhead. This overprotective, complete, idiotic dickhead.

You glance away from Steve, trying to avoid his questioning gaze as it bounces from you to Nate, then back again.

“Um, well - well, it was nice running into you, Y/N... and, uh, you too, Nathan.” Steve clears his throat, rubbing at the nape of his neck. “Hopefully I’ll catch you at work one day. Maybe hang out or something.” He chuckles, running a hand through his hair.

He wanted to hang out?

You exchange an excited grin with him. “Yeah, of course. Have a good day, Steve.”

“Right. Bye, again.” He hops back on his bike, pedaling away. You don’t hesitate to look back at him as he rides off - maybe your eyes are playing tricks on you, but he looks back as well. And you smile.

That is until Nate starts interrogating you, causing you to get a bit pissed.

“Dude, what is your deal?” You huff at him, shaking your head with irritation.

“That’s Steve Harrington.”

“Okay, and?” You cross your arms against your chest, protesting when Nate pulls you closer to him as he frowns at the people who decide to walk right through your conversation. “Nate, what about him?”

“He’s an asshole.”

“And so are you.“ You gesture at him, letting your hand fall lazily against your thigh. Nate raises his eyebrows at you, patiently waiting for you to quit talking. “Fine, then. What do you mean?”

“I’ve heard some shit from - from a few people. He cheated on Olivia with that sorority girl.”

Cheated? He was a cheater?

“Those were rumors. And besides, why are you telling me this? It’s not like I care.”

Oh, but you do care. You care immensely.

“Really? Because the way you were looking at each other said otherwise.” You’re about to interject, but Nate holds a hand up, shushing you. “I’m just lookin’ out for you, kiddo. I’m not saying that you shouldn’t have a crush on him-“

“I do not have a crush on him.”

Liar.

“You sure?” You nod confidently, squaring your shoulders. “Just don’t come crying to me if he decides to break your heart, Y/N.”

“You’re a very mean person. And I’m suddenly not cold anymore.” You shrug his jacket off, handing it to him with a dramatic pout.

“I’m only mean because I‘m trying to protect you.” You nod gratefully at his words, but the thoughts at the back of your head don’t stop swarming you.

You didn’t want to believe Nate’s claims of Steve being a cheater, but then again, who’s to say that they aren’t actually true?

-

“Do you guys know anything about Steve and Olivia?” You turn the sink on, soap roaming around your hands as you scrub delicately at the dirty dishes.

“Steve and Olivia? Girl, that’s ancient history.” Kate cackles, throwing her head back against the sofa to give you a look of attitude. “Why are you asking?”

“Heard some stuff about them. Just wondering.”

“All that crap is bullshit.” Robin pipes up through a mouthful of cereal, chewing obnoxiously as she gestures at you. “His ex-girlfriend started those rumors to get back at him. It’s stupid. Reminds me too much of high school drama.” She scoffs, shaking her head.

“Speaking of Steve, have you texted him?” Kate cocks her brow at you, smirking mischievously.

Robin nearly spits out her Lucky Charms at the question.

“You have Steve’s number?!” She squeaks, holding the back of her hand to her mouth with shock. “Oh, my god. I see it now.”

“Right?” Kate turns to her. “I saw it from the beginning.”

“What the fuck are we seeing? What is there to see?You shut the sink off, placing your hands on your hips as you move to stand in front of the TV. “Am I supposed to be seeing something? Because if you don’t know, I’m actually fucking blind.”

“You like Steve!” Robin says in a sing-song voice, pointing her spoon at you. Giggles fill the room as your face turns red, and you begin to pace back and forth.

“I do not like him! Why is everyone thinking that I like him?”

“You’re being-“

“I’m not defensive!” Your chest heaves as Robin and Kate exchange knowing look, both sharing identical smiles as they look you up and down. Clearing your throat awkwardly, you ruffle at your hair, bunching it up into a mess. “Okay, maybe I do. Just a little.”

You wince when a ear-piercing scream escapes from Kate, who runs up to tackle you in a jumping embrace. Robin makes kissing noises in the background, squishing her cheeks together.

“You have to text him, Y/N.” Kate lets go of you, grabbing your hand in support.

“No, no, no way.” You toss your hands up, waving the idea away as you plop down onto the beanbag in the corner. “I’m surely not gonna text him.”

“What are you so afraid of? You have nothing to lose!” She points out as Robin hums in agreement. You bite down on your thumb, training your eyes onto the grey carpet.

“What if he doesn’t like me? What if - what if when he gets to know me, he’ll be disappointed?” You ramble.

“Okay, well, how are you gonna answer that question if you haven’t given him a try?” Robin shrugs at you, standing up to hand you your phone. “Take a risk. Fuck everything.”

Yeah.

Fuck everything, right?

“I’m doing this alone.” You chuckle, taking your phone into your bedroom.

“Don’t send nudes, please!”

“And no sexting in this apartment!”

You huff at the wolf whistles of your two roommates, teasing you from the living room. Switching on the lamp on your nightstand, you slide under your covers as you pull up Steve’s contact. You groan aloud, feeling a build-up in your nerves as you stare at the string of numbers.

Texting seemed too formal. You curse at yourself for backing out, resorting to the confines of pointless Instagram stories to free your mind. Almost as if the universe had heard your cry for help, a colored ring appears around Steve’s profile picture, and without hesitation, you excitedly tap on it.

Based on the photo, Steve seemed to be in one of the campus’ libraries, pulling a late-night study session by himself. You pause for a minute, before you slowly swipe up on the screen, which brought you the option to send him a message.

need a coffee refill? ☺️

Sent.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

You instantly lock your phone after it sends, holding a pillow to your face as you let out a muffled scream. You kick at your sheets with heart-pounding anticipation, trying your hardest not to peek at your phone for another five minutes in fear of getting no reply.

Then, a notification pops onto your lockscreen, and your hands fumble to open it.

i would love one

Typing...

from you specifically :)

With a dreamy smile, your limbs shift with giddiness as you move to lay on your stomach, legs swinging mindlessly in the air.

want me to come over? 😂

Maybe you shouldn’t have said that.

ur serious?

Fuck. Was that appropriate? Did you force him into a situation that he’d have to awkwardly say no to?

i don’t mind

i could rlly use the company then 😁

so what’s your drink of choice?

hmmmm

surprise me 😩

You chuckle, shaking your head at the suggestion.

just don’t be mad if i get u something terrible

on my way 😇

With a sigh of relief, you hastily move to slip on a sweatshirt, grabbing your phone and car keys as you tiptoe out of the bedroom.

Robin lays on the sofa, snoring lightly as you try to quietly unlock the front door.

“Mmm... where you going?”

Ah, shit.

“Gonna go for a walk.” You reply casually.

She turns onto her side, peering at you with droopy eyes. “It’s midnight.”

“I’ll be back. Don’t worry.”

Okay, you do like Steve.

You like him a lot.

That‘s pretty fucking obvious enough... because who the hell gets out of bed at twelve in the morning to go buy coffee for some boy they’ve just started talking to?

You hiss when your palms come in contact with the steaming hot coffee, one carried in each hand. There aren’t many students left in the library - most of them cramming for exams or either falling under the cursed spell of sleep. You double check Steve’s message, searching for him towards the back of the building. Your heart beats faster when you catch sight of his profile, nearly walking right past him from how nervous you were making yourself. His earbuds are in, obviously unaware of your arrival as he rapidly types at his laptop.

You set the two coffees down, laughing softly at how Steve jumps in genuine surprise. He looks up at you, mouth agape. He suddenly realizes how much of a mess he looks, and he quickly runs his hands through his hair to fix it.

“Y/N, what - you actually came.” A smile tugs at his lips, and he pulls out the chair beside him for you to sit in.

“You wanna get rid of me already?” You joke, finding amusement in Steve’s distraught expression.

“No!” He says a little too loudly. “No, no, s’nothing like that. I just didn’t think you’d go out of your way to see me. Especially at...” He checks his watch. “...one in the morning.”

“Well, how else are you gonna make it through this night? Or morning, technically?” You hand him his coffee, warning him that it’s a bit hot. “I hope you like white chocolate.”

He takes a sip from the lidded drink, nodding his head at the sugary flavor. “Shit’s good.”

“Seriously?” You chuckle.

“You got taste, Y/N.” He gestures, subconsciously bumping his knee against your thigh as he returns to working, yet still taking the time to hold a conversation with you.

“Okay, so fill me in. What’s going on here?”

Steve explains that he’s got a big essay to work on for one of his minor subjects, and at the same time, he’s stuck with studying for a huge test from his criminal justice course. You listen attentively, trying your best to understand the complex terms he uses in his rambling state.

“Sorry if I went overboard. I just really, really like my major, even if it stresses the fuck out of me.” He scoffs nervously, running his hand through his hair.

“No, it’s great to hear someone so passionate about their studies. It’s super inspiring. I think it’s cute.”

Oh, hell.

You did not just say that he was cute. Sure, you said it in a completely indirect way, but you still fucking called him cute.

Steve blushes, dipping his head down to avert his eyes from you. “Uh, y-you wanna listen to music with me?”

You nod with enthusiasm (slightly embarrassed on the inside), before putting the left earbud into your ear as Steve hits the play button on his playlist. You smile when you recognize the song, it being from one of your favorite artists.

“No way! I love this one!” You sway in your seat, chuckling as Steve mimics your movements. You whisper-shout the lyrics to one another, creating microphones with your fists as you hold it to your mouths. You ignore the weird stares from the other students in the room, only having eyes on Steve as you reach the ending of the impromptu duet.

“Oh, my god, that was - that was great.” He doubles over onto the desk with laughter, feeling himself already perk up from the caffeine. “I didn’t know you had such amazing taste in music. First, coffee, now this? You’re the best.” He points his pen at you, raising his eyebrows with clear satisfaction as you continue discussing your favorite songs.

The best.

He called you the best.

“Thanks, Steve.”

After another hour of conversation and studying, you both begin to wrap things up. Steve tosses the empty cups of coffee into the nearest bin, thanking you as you help him pack up his textbooks and laptop.

He kindly holds open the door for you on your way out, letting it swing shut behind him as the windy air nips at his ears. He walks you to the parking lot, driving his bike with his hands as he comes to a stop by your van.

“W-would you like a ride back to your place?” You offer, rubbing at the sleeves of your sweatshirt. “It’s really cold and dark outside, so...”

Steve smiles. “Yeah, thank you, Y/N.”

“No problem.”

The turn signal ticks loudly as you round the street towards Steve’s apartment. His bike rattles in the backseat, folded over to fit the van.

“I hope your, uh, your boyfriend is okay with this.” Steve sniffles from the heater, scratching the underside of his jaw.

“My boyfriend?”

“Yeah, that Nathan guy from earlier today? He’s your boyfriend, right?”

Well, shit.

“Oh, jesus. He totally isn’t. Trust me.” Steve sends you a questioning look, doubt written all over his features. “I’m serious, Steve. He’s just my best friend, and he’s protective over me, kinda like a brother.”

“That’s good.”

Why was that good? Good that Nate wasn’t your boyfriend? Good that you weren’t dating anybody?Steve couldn’t have possibly liked you back.

Unless... he did?

You shut the engine off when you arrive at his place, walking with him into the lobby. The elevator ride is mostly silent, but there’s an unrecognizable tension that wavers in the air.

He stops you for a second before he unlocks the door to his apartment, twirling his keys between his fingers.

“Uh, I wanted to say thank you for keeping me company. I had lots of fun with you earlier.” He smiles down at you.

“Me too, Steve. You’re a really sweet guy.” You chuckle, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“And you’re a sweet girl.”

Oh, woah.

Wow. Wow. Wow.

Steve clears his throat, continuing with a casual tone of voice. “Listen, I was wondering if I could... if I could get your number? Maybe we can hang out again or something, if you’re like available, you know.”

Holy fuck.

Say something. Say anything.

“Yeah, I would like that.”

Steve nods happily, taking his phone out from his pocket. He pretends as if he didn’t have your number in the first place, re-entering it into your already saved contact.

“Okay, great! Thanks. Uh, thank you for... for walking me here. And earlier, which I already mentioned - okay! I’m gonna go now.” He points at his door, cringing at himself with a disappointing sigh.

Confidently, you pull him into an embrace, making the butterflies in your stomach rejoice when he returns the hug with a tighter squeeze.

“Good night, Y/N.” He mumbles into your hair before stepping away.

“You as well, Steve.”

A smirk forms on his lips. “I’ll text you, yeah?”

“I’ll be waiting.” You lightly bounce on your heels, biting your lip as you finally lock eyes with him.

Suddenly, Steve’s hand reaches around behind you, causing your eyes to widen with surprise. He pulls the hood of your sweatshirt over your head, letting it cover your ears and parts of your hair.

His fingers trail down the uneven drawstrings, gently tugging on them.

“It’s cold outside.”

“I know.”

“Don’t want you to get sick.” You can’t fight the grin on your face, watching carefully as Steve turns open the door to his apartment. “Well, get home safe, Y/N.”

Flustered, you start to stutter over your words, forgetting all the right things to say. “You too!”

Idiot.

With one final smile and a sweet gaze in your direction, Steve slowly shuts the door, leaving you in the hallway. You slap at your reddened face when you hear the lock click, scolding yourself for saying something completely idiotic at the last minute.

Meanwhile, Steve leans on the other side of the door, resting his head against the smooth surface as he stares up at the ceiling in an enchanted state of mind. Silently, he begins to jump joyously before he victoriously pumps his fists into the air.

Who ever thought that coffee could draw two souls closer together?

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