#and i had a little breakdown in the car because i realized right when i got to my second job that i needed gas

[lavender---sunshine]

💖 Had my first car cry today besties 💖

[acowardinmordor]

You Left Me - You Miss Me - Six

Sup, I finally wrote the next part. Mostly because of someone trying to find it via the fic finder blog, which gave me a big ol spike in anxiety about the lack of update.

Part One .... Part Four - Part Five

---

“Rob, no.”

“Don’t you tell me ‘no,’ Steven Dingus Harrington!”

“You can’t drive to Hawkins and kill the guy.”

“Oh yes I can! I'll take your bat with me!”

“Babe, you still don’t know how to drive, and I have work in the morning so I can’t take you.” 

“I’ll figure it out on the way!”

She wouldn’t. She wasn't going to drive to Hawkins. She would definitely, absolutely, one hundred percent kill Munson if she had the chance and Steve didn’t talk her out of it, but Robin wasn’t going to leave him alone when he’d had a breakdown an hour earlier. She wouldn’t let him sleep alone for the next few days, and she would go to work with him in the morning, and she’d probably skip her Stats class so she could stick by him after work too. 

It took Robin about thirty seconds to realize something had happened. 

That was the gap between her opening the car door, and Steve speaking. All he said was “hey, Robs” and she cut off her ramble about chlorofluorocarbons. The same way he could tell by the sound of her stirring soup, or which color eye shadow she wore, she knew immediately something had happened. 

She touched his arm.

And he had a breakdown in the college parking lot. 

Steve updated the tag on the side of the box and put it back on the shelf. He was,technically, working. Robin was ranting and using a tie-dye shirt as a prop. 

“You don’t need to crash our car trying to go kill a guy I’m not even mad at.”

“Ugh,” she flapped the shirt at him and slouched against the edge of the shelving unit. “Why not? Why are you not mad at him? How? I’m mad at him! He took the kids away from you! They’re annoying little shitheads but you loved them and he jus---”

“Rob,” he interrupted softly. He couldn’t get into that side of it right now. 

“Sorry. Sorry. But you’re not this nice, Stevie. You’re wonderfully bitchy and petty and it’s one of my favorite things about you, and I don’t get this. He sucks! This was super shitty! Why aren’t you mad at him for being an asshole?”

“It’s not his fault.”

“He said it was his fault!”

Eddie blamed himself, and maybe it was his fault, but it didn’t matter. Not in comparison.

“Are you going to inventory anything tonight, or is this just going to be me?”

“No! And why are you working?”

Because if he stopped, if he let himself turn his full attention towards it, he was going to fall apart again, and stupid as it was, checking inventory used up just enough of his focus that he couldn’t drown. Steve flicked through the stack of size smalls, and wrote it down on the list. “Uh, because we’re at work?”

“We both work tomorrow tonight and there is no way that Mary or Nick have ever looked at the stock sheets in their life, they aren’t going to look tomorrow either. No one will know.”

“I’ll know.” He glanced up to make eye contact for a second, and she caved with a groan. 

“If you were anyone but my soulmate, buddy…” She folded the shirt terribly, shoved it into the gap between the cardboard and the other shirts, and finally closed the box. 

Letting the silence settle gave Steve a minute to breathe, and reset himself without the rising tension. She knew that, and waited until, unspoken, she knew he was ready to keep going. 

“Steve.”

“I am mad, Robs. I am. You know that it’s.. At the kids, and at Hopper, and at myself for agreeing to this stupid idea, but I’m not mad at him.” 

“Why does he get special treatment?”

Hearing how that sounded, he tried again, “No, uh. I’m mad at him, but, like, the same way you get mad when the grandma in the crosswalk is going really slow and then drops something and goes back, and you end up stuck waiting again even though you should have made it through the light before. Yeah, it sucks, but it’s not like grandma was doing it specifically to fuck with you. She’s just, you know, shopping or whatever. 

“It wasn’t like there was a friendship there that he betrayed. He did something for his own life and it was sorta sucky, and it sucks for me, but he feels really shitty about it, so I don’t think he meant for them to, you know, vanish.”

Robin thumbed down the stack of Levis, whispering the count as she went. Three more sizes got counted before she responded. 

“You carried him out of there. You saved his life.”

Steve hummed absently. “He wasn’t bleeding that bad. His trash lid kept most of them off. I panicked when I saw blood and picked him up.”

“And that doesn’t make you friends?”

“It’s not like I only saved him because it was him. Not like I stopped and thought about whether I should get the bleeding guy to the hospital. Lifeguard, remember?” 

The other half of the thought, he bit back. He’d had nightmares about Billy after Starcourt. Dreams where he could have saved him, and didn’t. Where he could have saved Max from having to see that, having to recover from that. He saw Eddie bleeding, he saw one of his kids screaming, and there wasn’t a thought in his head. Just the need not to let it happen again. Not again. Not Dustin too. 

He kept his eyes on the inventory form so she didn’t see that part. 

“Still think it should have mattered more. Life saving creates friendships.”

“He was unconscious. I know you don’t know much about how guys act with each other, but generally both dudes are awake when they become friends.”

She snorted at his weak joke, throwing her pencil at him. It wasn’t anywhere near her. 

“New record, champ,  that one wasn’t even close enough for me to pretend to dodge it.”

“Ugh, I hate you.”

“Love you too, Robs.”

He got through a full set of kids dress shirts in peace, counted and listed. Then he pulled down the crate of kid’s dresses, next on the list to check. 

The whole can of worms would tear open when, if, when Eddie showed up with something from the kids. There was no version of that day that wouldn’t end with him falling apart. If he skimmed them, if he burned them, if he read them, if he wrote back, if he refused to take them at all, it didn’t matter. He was going to fall to pieces. 

If they wrote and it was real, if it was petty, if it was anger, if it was grief, if it was gloating he was gone, if it was begging him to come back, if it was proof that it was always fake, always a temporary placeholder until they found someone they actually like. The imminent breakdown was going to be bad no matter what. 

Like those safety videos in school about seat belts. 

Like knowing the car crash was coming, knowing it couldn’t be stopped, and knowing that nothing he did was going to make it any easier to bear. Slow motion, watching a car come -- a beat up old van come towards him. No time to put on a seat belt, no way to brace for it, just accept that it was going to happen and hope you survived.  

Robin cleared her throat to get his attention, and Steve blinked back to himself. 

“Did, uh, did you say something?”

Robin watched him for a minute. He let her this time. It was easier to let her see what he was feeling than try to turn it into words, and he needed her to let it go for now.. 

“I’m going to skip my bio lecture on Friday afternoon.”

“Birdie, you don’t--” 

“You are going to call in sick at the skate rink. We are going to make snickerdoodles and brownies and the cracker bark thing, and order pizza, and we’re going to make ourselves sick eating too much, and we’re going to watch some random movie on mute and make up our own story and dialogue. Got it?”

“Got it,” he smiled.

And it wasn’t going to make it all better. Eating two pounds of butter in a day wasn’t going to make it easier when Eddie showed up, but it was like hitting pause on that video. Car crash was still coming, but he could look away for a while. 

***

Steve clung to the pass shelf from the kitchen as the expected car crash hit him on Monday. John, always eager for the chance to throw someone out of the diner, looked over Steve’s shoulder. It was a nice moment. A nice little thought before he had to face what he’d agreed to. If he asked, John would throw Eddie out. Literally. Nice image, but not the one he got to see.

Instead, he declined the offer, and grabbed the plates. 

“Gimme a minute,” he mumbled to Eddie, heading to the sweet elderly couple celebrating the birth of their second granddaughter with a leisurely breakfast. If he spent an extra minute talking to them, complimenting the polaroid of what seemed to be some kind of mashed potato swaddled in white and pink, it was to get a good tip, not because he was stalling. 

Eddie hadn’t moved when he got back. He was a step back from the counter, stiff, holding a paper grocery bag under one arm, eyes trained on the ugly teal of the stool’s seat.

“Well?” Steve asked bitchily, “Did you bring milk and eggs and bread, honey?”

He put it on the counter, clutching the folded top hard, like he was making sure it stayed shut. 

Like it was full of spiders or something. Mutual sentiment.

Steve grabbed it, tossing it onto the shelf where they kept personal belongings and the leftovers they’d called dibs on. He hadn’t expected Eddie Munson to be up to Franklin at eight am on a Monday. Eddie wasn’t a morning person. Steve thought he’d have a few more hours to brace. Now he had to deal with customers while that bag burned a hole in the back of his head. 

Luckily, Rebecca was serious when she said he could get mean with guests if he wanted to. Today wasn’t a want. It was going to be a necessity. 

Eddie was still standing there. 

“You can tell them I got it, or whatever,” he tried to dismiss him.

Something that looked like the tortured remains of a smile flickered on Eddie’s face. He gave up after a second and nodded too many times. “Thanks. Thank you. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, right?”

It took a minute for Steve to catch up to the question. 

“I haven’t said I’m going to answer them. Or open them. Or keep them.”

Eddie was quiet for a minute, still not looking up, and Steve’s Travel-Size-Robin was vibrating with the need to make him so they could guess what the hell he was thinking. 

“Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday mornings?” he repeated. 

“Yeah. Sure, yeah,” Steve gave up. 

Eddie left, and Steve did the entire day’s front of house prep before Susan got in, trying to keep his head away from that damn bag. 

***

Steve didn’t open it. 

He fell asleep in Robin’s bed, grateful he didn’t have other work that evening, and doubly grateful when she made him eat some crackers and drink some water before they passed out for the night. 

If he was waiting for the impact the day before, seeing Eddie again the next day was so unexpected that the crash whooshed past him without an impact. He didn’t sit down, and he looked a little rough, probably from driving to Franklin in the early morning twice in two days. 

“Do you have…?”

“No? No,” Steve boggled at him, “How could I have anything for you to even -- No. Man, no.” 

Eddie nodded. 

Eddie left. 

***

Steve stared at the bag instead of taking a nap before their shift in the stockroom. Didn’t open it, that was way, way beyond him, but he did manage to look directly at it, and it was only a few saltines, but he did successfully eat. 

Robin, angel, light of his life, soulmate and perfect person got in the car after class, handed him a kinda gross protein bar that she stole from an athlete in her class who she didn’t like, and made him eat it. 

She didn’t make him talk about the bag shaped elephant in their apartment, and she spent the entire shift explaining the way Ann Carson’s translations of Greek plays had totally shifted how people read them, making them more accessible, and how the push to do the same with Shakespeare was incredible. 

When he went to crawl into his own bed that night, she grumbled, brought her favorite pillow, and climbed in after him. 

***

Eddie walked in at quarter to seven, right after three four tops seated.

“No.”

“Okay. Yeah.” Eddie looked small, probably because he was speaking at a normal volume, sounding like a normal human, which ran opposite to how Eddie was in Hawkins. He also looked like crap. 

“Why are you here, dude? You hate mornings. You don’t have to leave that early, I work until one.”

Eddie scrunched his face, but didn’t answer that. 

“No?” he asked instead.

Someone at table six shouted ‘waiter!’ 

“I’ll bring your coffee in a damn minute!” Steve yelled back, half turning with the carafe in his hand.

“Steve?”

“Look, I don’t have anything for you. Nothing. You don’t need to waste your time. I haven’t opened it.”

“There’s more than one -- oh,” Eddie scrubbed over his face. “Okay. Yeah. Okay. Do-- Are you going to? Open it.”

Thinking about opening it made him want to run away to Canada. 

Thinking about never knowing made him want to puke. 

Whatever weird face Steve made was something Eddie could translate. He only raised his head for a moment, just long enough to look. But then he covered his face with both hands, taking a deep breath that shuddered on the exhale. 

“See you Monday,” he said as a goodbye.

“Where’s my coffee?” the same guy yelled. Steve didn’t have the energy to deal with customers and whatever the fuck was going on with Eddie’s early morning emotional mess. 

“Wait a second,” he complained to both of them at once. Steve grabbed one of the big mugs, the ones they used for the expensive hot chocolate, filled it with coffee, and set the pour jar of sugar next to it. He looked from Eddie to the cup, pointedly. “Don’t crash. Bring the cup back with you.”

The asshole yelled for him again, and Steve turned on the terrifyingly polite smile that Robin had helped him hone. Then he deployed it on the asshole at table six. 

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

We are headed towards Steddie, on a path that will, hopefully, not feel like I brushed off all this to get there. However. Wow, they're hurting right now. You can't have Eddie's pov yet, it would spoil things, but. just. trust me. ow.

Still don't do tag lists. Once I know how many parts it'll be, this will go to Ao3, promise.

[misc-obeyme]

MC's Bad Day Part 1

I had a really bad day last week, including several minutes where I put my head down on my desk and ugly cried lol. I'm just lucky I work from home so the only one who was there to bear witness was my cat. Anyway, I wanted to write some headcanons of the brothers reacting to an MC who breaks down crying after having a bad day. I'm sure this has been done many times before, but writing it actually did make me feel better, so mission accomplished! And I thought I might as well share it here. I'll do the side characters upon request, so feel free to drop me an ask if you're interested in that. (Or any other requests, really.)

GN!MC

Warnings: Crying and generally upset MC.

Lucifer

Senses your distress even if he doesn't hear you at first. As he reaches your room, your sobs make his heart ache. He knocks, but doesn't wait before letting himself into your room.

Gently holds your chin to tilt your face up. Who did this to you, MC? He asks it quietly, but there's a heavy threat running through the words.

You insist that there isn't anyone to blame. You're just stressed. Lucifer understands, but he still very much wants to kill something. Keeps that thought to himself, though, as he can tell you're suffering enough already.

Sits down beside you on your bed and puts his arms around you, if you want him to. Will let you cry on him for however long you need.

Mammon

Another one who just somehow knows that something is wrong. Doesn't even have time to listen to you cry before he's bursting through the door.

Falls to his knees in front of you and puts his hands on your tear stained cheeks. What's wrong, MC? What can he do to fix this?

You explain that you had a bad day. If you choose to tell him about it, he'll start crying in sympathy while pretending he's not. But if you don't want to talk about it, he's okay with that, too.

Will try to distract you and cheer you up. Takes you to his room to watch movies or will take you for a drive in his car. Mammon will do anything to see you smile again.

Leviathan

You have plans to play video games with Levi and you know you'll feel better if you go hang out with him. The second you're in his room, though, you break down into tears.

He panics at first. What's wrong, MC?! What can he do?! Hovers around you in uncertainty and confusion.

You tell him you had a bad day. Something about the way you say it makes him go into protective mode. Doesn't even realize what he's doing until he's in demon form with his arms and tail wrapped around you.

You return his embrace and while he'd normally be embarrassed, he can tell you just need to be held right now. Keeps you close until you're feeling better then distracts you with video games.

Satan

Notices all day that something is off about you. Comes to your room after dinner to check on you and hears you crying.

Now normally we know Satan is likely to lose it, but you sound like you really need someone by your side right now. You're pretty much the only person for whom he can even think about controlling his wrath. So he pushes that anger aside and goes into your room.

Sits by your side and puts a hand on your back. You look up at him, see his serious expression, and collapse into his arms. He doesn't even need to say anything.

Hush now, MC. It's going to be okay. Whatever is happening, you'll work it out. He's right beside you now. He won't leave you to deal with this alone.

Asmodeus

You're in Asmo's room, letting him paint your nails. He's chatting away about this and that. Everything's fine until he smiles at you and then you lose it.

At first Asmo thinks you're crying because it just hit you how beautiful he truly is, but he quickly realizes that you're actually having a bit of a breakdown. He pulls you into his arms, running his fingertips down your back soothingly. Cry it out, MC. Sometimes you just need to let go like this!

When you're feeling a little better, he goes into pamper mode. Bubble bath, face mask, massage, whatever you want, he's on it. He's going to make sure that you let out all that stress!

Won't let you leave until you're feeling almost like yourself again. Listens to you talk about how you're feeling while taking care of you. By the time you're done, you feel much better.

Beelzebub

Beel notices when you don't really eat much at dinner. You seem to be feeling a little down. Goes to your room to check on you and hears you crying. Knocks and patiently waits until you tell him he can come inside.

Gives you a bear hug. Lifts you slightly off your feet on accident. You can't help but laugh a little through the tears. He sets you down gently, but doesn't let go.

Beel is our gentle giant, so he just stays still while you let everything out. His quiet presence is more than enough to bring you comfort. He will hold your face and wipe away your tears.

When you're finally feeling better, he will tell you that you should have something to eat. You barely touched your dinner, MC. Food will make you feel better. Trust him on this.

Belphegor

Despite being a little punk most of the time, Belphie is actually pretty good at noticing when you're not doing well. He can tell that you're having a rough day, so he insists you come up to the attic with him for a nap.

You get all comfortable, but before you can even think about actually sleeping, you start to cry. Belphie gives you his pillow, letting you cry into it for a while.

It's okay, MC. He could tell something was going on with you. Let it all out. Curls himself around you while you cry.

You do eventually stop and as he expected, you're exhausted. He's here to comfort you until you both fall asleep.

masterlist | part 2 with the side characters | Thank you for reading!

[juiles]

I will love you for the rest of your life. ❤️

Summary: You are Scarlett’s eldest daughter and after an argument with your sister, you get yelled at. You get saved by your favourite aunt before going home. Angst then lots of fluff at the end.

Type: angst then lots of fluff, hurt/comfort

Triggers: hospital, siblings fighting, broken bone, slight panic attack, breakdown.

Masterlist!

————————————————————————

POV: you (first person)

I was sat on my bed staring at the wall. Mum had just yelled at me for pushing Rose into the wall but that isn’t what happened. Rose had been hitting me and shoved me down the stairs and tripped and hit the wall. She burst out into tears screaming as if i had hurt her.

Mum came storming up the stairs and without even asking what happened starting yelling at me about being “too rough” with her because she’s my little sister and I’m bigger than her. I heard a ding and looked down at my phone. I had texted Lizzie right after asking her to come get me.

Lizzie-Loo❤️

Hey. Could you come get me? I need away from mum for a bit💀

Yeah of course bug ❤️

I’m 10 minutes away.

Meet me outside?

Thank youuuuuuu 🙏🏼🙏🏼

I quickly shoved a few essential clothing into my backpack along with my laptop, phone charger, school binder, and anything i may need for school tomorrow. I pushed my door open, wincing when i used my right hand forgetting i had hurt it when i had fallen.

I ducked down as I passed Rose’s room hearing mum sing to her, biting my lip to avoid a sob escaping, mum hadn’t sang to me in ages. I grabbed my sneakers and after pulling them on, grabbed my coat and slowly opened the door sneaking through before closing it again.

I stood outside for about 4 minutes before i saw Lizzie’s black range rover pull up. I stole a glance at Rose’s window and frowned when i saw mum doing a little dance. I threw the front seat door open and climbed in. I threw my bag on the floor gently and went to put my seatbelt on but stopped gasping in pain when i twisted my right wrist.

“What’s wrong baby?” Lizzie asked turning to face me. “What happened to your wrist? It’s swollen and bruised!”

“Rose pushed me down the stairs and i landed on it weirdly.” I muttered blinking back the tears. “It really hurts…”

“Oh baby… i’m taking you to the hospital. It may be broken.” She said turning to put the car in drive and head out my driveway. I saw mum glance out the window as we pulled out. “Why didn’t you tell your mum?”

“She-she umm… she yelled at me because Rose tripped and hit the wall and sent me to my room…” I said now letting the tears fall freely. “She didn’t even give me a chance to explain…”

Liz sighed and rubbed her thumb over my left hands knuckles. “I’ll talk to her bug. She’s not usually like this…”

I nodded and closed my eyes leaning back against the seat.

—————————————————————

Scarlett’s POV

I finally got Rose to settle down and taking a nap when i glanced out the window when i saw Lizzie’s car pull out of my driveway. Weird. Why was she here? I took a deep breath and walked towards my room, passing Y/N’s door on the way and froze when i realized what i had done earlier.

I screamed at her and sent her to her room without asking her side. She was at the bottom of the stairs when i had run up. Did Rose push her?!

I knocked gently. “Y/N/N?” I asked softly. I frowned when i got no response and tried the door realizing it was unlocked i pushed the door open. “Baby i’m so-“ I stopped mid sentence when i noticed she wasn’t in her room. “Y/N/N?!”

My heart started racing and i turned on my heel praying she had gone into my room. I pushed the door open and my heart dropped when she wasn’t curled up in my bed. I quickly grabbed my phone and pulled her contact up before calling her. It rang a few times before i was sent to her voicemail. I remembered Lizzie’s car earlier and scrolled down to her contact and pressed call.

“Hello?” She picked up after a few rings and I could feel my heart spike again.

“Hey Liz. Have you seen Y/N/N?!” My voice was shaky as I paced my room biting my nails.

“Yeah actually.” Lizzie sounded snappy and cold. “I’m currently sitting in the ER with her.” My heart sunk into my stomach as i heard those words.

“Wh-why?!” I couldn’t stop the panic attack i felt coming on as my brain whizzed around with reasons she may be there with my child.

“Because i think she broke her wrist and it needed to be checked out.” My heart shattered knowing that she HAD been pushed down the stairs and she had gotten hurt and all i did was yell at her and send her to her room. I understood why Lizzie sounded the way she did. “They’re calling her name. I have to go Scarlett. I’ll talk to you later.”

The line went dead and i fell to the floor as sobs took over my body. What kind of mother was i?! My baby was in pain and all i could do was snap at her because her sister was barely hurt. I chose Rose over Y/N. No wonder she ignored my call and left. No wonder why Lizzie was so snappy with me.

She’s always had a soft spot for my eldest and was rightfully angry from what happened. Y/N was only a kid but she was tough. She’s been with me through 3 divorces, dealt with being in the spotlight her whole life. She’s dealt with bullies at school but I’m the one who may have just broken her.

Y/N POV

I sat in the waiting room when Lizzie’s phone went off. I saw a picture of my mum flash on her screen before she answered and stood up putting one finger up to show me she’ll be right back. I heard her tell my mum where i was before my name got called and i froze. I’ve always hated the hospital.

Lizzie came back over to me and held her hand out. I took it and stood up clinging to her hand. We followed a nurse to a little room before she did a bunch of stuff with me. She then showed us to the X-Ray room and i had to sit with a lead apron on while they took the photos before being sent back to the little room with Lizzie. I sat on the bed and made grabby hands with my good hand towards Lizzie who chuckled and sat down beside me.

I instantly curled up into her grabbing at her shirt. “I know bug. I know you hate this. Not much longer okay? Afterwards we can get all the snacks and cuddle and watch movies at my place or in your room at home okay?”

I just nodded with a small sniffle glancing up at her. She ran her fingers through my hair and for the next 30 minutes that’s how we sat. My head snapped up as the door pushed open.

“Hello. You must be Y/N Johansson?” The doctor asked glancing at my paper before looking back at me. I nodded shyly. “And you are…?” She asked pointing to Lizzie. We all knew she knew who she was but she needed to know the relation to me.

“Oh sorry. I’m Lizzie. I’m a close family friend.” The doctor nodded. “I can call her parents if anything needs to be signed. Her mum can be here pretty fast.”

“No i think it’ll be alright. So it looks like you have a small fracture in your hand which means a cast will be placed on. It’s nothing major so no surgery required luckily.” The doctor then explained what my fracture was and what was to happen next. I felt myself shrink more into Lizzie when a nurse came in with a tray full of stuff.

We spent the next 15 minutes getting my cast on before i was sent out with a new black cast on my right hand and a sling. They had had options for a kids sling, princess, mickey mouse, plain pink, blue and purple and a Black Widow one. I blushed when pointing to the black widow one making Lizzie chuckle.

Lizzie then took me to a grocery store. We got loads of junk and settled back into the car. “decision time babe. My house or your room?” I took a few minutes to think.

I loved Lizzie’s house but i knew with the cast i would more comfortable in my own room. I didn’t really want to see mum but the idea of my bed was pulling me in so i sighed. “My room… but if we bump into mum can you talk…?”

“Of course buggy.” She said pushing some hair behind my ear. “Let’s go.”

The car ride to my house was filled with music and laughter as we blasted our favourite musicals and belted horribly along. The minute we pulled into my driveway i fell silent and tensed. “It’ll be alright. I’ll be right by your side yeah?”

I nodded and pushed the door open grabbing my bag from my feet and slinging it over my shoulder. Lizzie grabbed the bag full of snacks from the back and walked up to me slipping her hand into my good hand. I took a deep breath and pushed the front door open to be met by silence. We closed the door softly behind us and made our way up the stairs and towards my room. I heard Rose’s soft snores coming from her room and soft sobs coming from… mums room?

I glanced at Lizzie who nodded towards the door of mums room and took my bag off my back before making her way into my room. I knocked on the door softly and instantly the sobs stopped and i heard a few sniffles before a mumbled “come in.”

I pushed the door open and my heart plummeted when i saw mum curled up on the floor beside her bed, her face bright read, tear tracks staining her face. “Mum…?”

Her head whipped up and her eyes widened when she saw me standing at her door. “Y/N/N?!” She asked softly and i made my way over to her and sunk to the floor beside her. “Oh baby…” She whined looking at my wrist covered in the cast and the sling. “I am so sorry… i should have checked with you and asked what happened before snapping at you… i should have made sure you were okay baby… that’s not fair on you… i am so sorry baby… i understand if you’re mad at me… it should have been me taking you to the hospital… not your aunt…”

Mum looked so broken as more tears streamed down her face. I stared at her a few moments before launching myself into her arms. “No i’m sorry mama… i shouldn’t have been arguing with rose-“ Mum stopped me by pulling away and placing her hands on my shoulders making me face her.

“No. You stop that right now. Rose explained what happened. She had no right to hit you or push you down the stairs baby. You have nothing to apologize for. I do. I’m sorry i yelled at you my love. I should have gotten the whole story.” She said cupping my chin with one hand, her thumb stroking down my cheek gently. All i could do was nod as tears fell and fall back into her arms sobbing.

We sat there for at least 15 minutes before i was able to sit up still leaning into her. “Aunt Lizzie and i are going to do a junk food and movie night…” I muttered making mum nod sadly and press a kiss into my hair. “Maybe… maybe you could join us…?” I asked hesitantly sneaking a glance up at her.

Her once saddened face immediately lit up and she pulled me into her arms showering my face with kisses. “Yes! Yes yes yes yes yes!” She squealed then stopped. “Lizzie hates me…”

“No i don’t.” We both looked up to see Lizzie standing at the door leaning against the frame. “I heard silence so i came to make sure nobody killed each other.” She chuckled and sat on mums other side. “I could never hate you Scar. Be annoyed? Hell yeah. You’re my best friend. But not hate.”

Mums grin widened again and pulled Lizzie into our cuddle before i pulled away with a whimper cradling my arm after it got stuck. “Oh baby. Are you okay? Do you need some pain killers? Why don’t you two go get the snacks and bubs change into some comfy clothes while i grab the drinks and some meds. Liz borrow whatever to be comfy. You’re spending the night in here. Bigger bed.” Mum wiggled her eyebrows making us both giggle before we ran off to do what we were told.

I opened my closet door and dug through the clothes before i found my favourite hoodie and bike shorts and slipped them on, leaving my casted arm out of the sleeve. I made my way back to mums room to see Lizzie sitting on mums bed in one of her favourite hoodies to steal and some joggers. I plopped down beside her, leaving mum enough space on the other side and grabbed a bag of candy.

Mum came back in with a couple drinks for each of us, a bottle of pain meds and my favourite fuzzy blanket from downstairs. “Let’s start this girls night hmm?” She said sitting beside me. I wrapped us up with mums duvet then the blanket and snuggled up in between my two favourite people.

We spent the whole night watching movies, i even convinced them to watch Age of Ultron with me as it was my favourite Avengers movie. I fell asleep halfway through some rom-com lizzie had chosen, my head on mums chest, my casted arm resting gently on her stomach, Lizzie snuggled up behind me wrapping her body around mine as she fell asleep. I felt a kiss on my head and smiled softly in my sleep.

“I’ll love you for the rest of your life.”

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

What's the occasion?

Masterlist

A/N: What this was supposed to be: A fluffy comfort fic about reader's husband taking care of her after a rough day/week/month. What this isn't: A fluffy comfort fic about read.... you get me.

What this somehow ended up being: A not-so-fluffy not-so-comfort (?) fic about reader's husband taking real good care of her after a rough day/week/month.

You're welcome, I think? (I honestly don't have a clue how this ended up being some of the smuttiest smut I've written to date... But it happened... I'm not even going to question it.)

Pairing: Syverson x reader (you)

Summary: You come home from a terrible day at work, thinking you have about a thousand things still on your to do list, only to find your husband has taken care of all of that, and has also made you the first thing on his to do list.

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, SMUT, MINORS DNI. oral (m and f receiving), p-in-v sex, Sy being all dominant and massive, some light (yes, really) throatfucking, hair pulling, manhandling. Some of this can probably be considered blasphemy.

Also, fair warning: this story contains a man doing household chores without having been (explicitly) asked to do so. Just... Bear with me. I know it's not realistic, but we're here to have fun, right?

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @keanureevesisbae @fvckinghenrycavill @ellethespaceunicorn @peaches1958 @sillyrabbit81 @peyton-warren @summersong69 @mayloma @livisss

Parking your husband’s truck in your driveway is an absolute nightmare. It takes you twenty minutes and a breakdown – during which you fight yourself over whether or not to just go inside and ask him to park his stupid car for you – but you eventually manage. Now, it’s time to go inside, after the longest day at the office in the history of long ass days at the office, and do the six million other things that come for free with having a house, husband, and kids. Dishes. Laundry. Dinner. That stuff.

You toss your bag down on the bench next to the front door and put your coat on the overflowing coat rack six times – it keeps coming down because for some reason, your teen daughter owns 12 jackets, yet she still always asks to borrow yours seconds before telling you that all of your clothes suck – before you finally give up and leave it where it falls.

It takes you a minute to realize that you smell food. With three kids and your mountain of a husband, that can only really mean one thing: someone got hungry, your plans for dinner are now in ruins and your kitchen looks like an episode of Hoarders. And even though those are your expectations, your family still manage to exceed them every time, so God knows what you’re going to find when you round that corner and step into your kitchen...

It’s Sy. And it’s not just Sy, but it’s just Sy. Come to think of it... The whole house is suspiciously void of music, screaming or shoes scattered around for you to break your neck over.

“Where are the kids?” you ask as you walk towards Sy.

“With my mother,” he replies without turning around, “to be returned to us on Sunday night at eight, and not a second before then. Are ya goin' to make a habit of not sayin’ hello to me when you get home? ‘Cause I don’t care for it.”

“Well, excuse me for not taking the time out of my busy schedule for pleasantries, but I have a week’s worth of laundry to get to,” you snap. He doesn’t deserve it, you know that, but it’s the kind of day you’ve had, and... And it’s all on you again.

“Laundry’s done,” Sy says calmly, still not looking up from the lasagna he’s putting together.

“Oh,” you stammer. “Well, then I’ll just grab the vacuum and...”

“I did that, too.”

“Alright, I’ll give the garage a quick call to see if they can...”

“I changed the oil in your car this morning.”

“Groceries?”

“Done.”

“The bathroom?”

“Yep.”

“And you’ve obviously got a handle on dinner...” You have to admit it: you’re a little stumped. “What about...”

“Woman, if you’re lookin’ for somethin’ I didn’t do so you can blow up at me for it, I’ll just hand it to ya: I didn’t get to cleanin’ out the gutters today, so I’ll have to do that tomorrow.”

But you’re not planning on blowing up at him over anything...

“Well, hello Mr. Syverson,” you say, still completely in awe that your entire schedule for the night – and probably the whole weekend – just opened up. “Remind me... We got married in October, right?”

“Yes, Mrs. Syverson, we did.” He’s even less subtle than usual, skipping your hips and putting his hands on our ass right off the bat.

“So, what’s the occasion?” you chuckle. Sy pulls you in for a kiss, just passionate enough to leave you wanting more, but not so bad you beg him to take you right here on the kitchen counter. It’s a fine line, really. A tightrope you’ve tried to walk before, only to fall off on the wrong side and be late for yet another dinner with someone who was never going to be more important than having sex with your husband, anyway.

“The occasion is... You’re beautiful. You deserve it. You do so much for our family and somewhere along the lines I seem to have started takin’ that for granted. Take your pick, I’m sure there’s plenty more reasons to come up with.” He squeezes your ass. Hard. “This sensational ass could be the occasion?”

“You’re saying you got rid of the kids for the weekend and checked off my whole to do list to celebrate the existence of my ass?”

“Sugar, I celebrate the existence of that fine ass every damn day. Now, I’ve fallen a little behind on celebrating the existence of the woman attached to it... I’d like to make up for that.” There is absolutely no way you aren’t blushing right now. Sy doesn’t let go of you, but his hands move to your waist. You’re trying your best to not drown in his eyes, but you’ve been hopelessly lost in there for nearly twenty years. For a brief – but lovely – moment, you stand there, just holding each other and making eyes like you used to when you were young and in love. And young...

“This needs about half an hour in the oven, still, so how about I give you forty-five and you can take a nice, long shower?” Sy winks at you – or rather: tries to. “There’s something on the bed I’d love to take off of you later tonight, but I also understand if you just want to wear something comfortable.”

“Did you pick it?” you tease him.

“You’ll be more than happy to know that I did, but under the very strict supervision of Dana.” It seems like your dear husband has finally learned how to use the fact his best friend’s wife works in a lingerie store to his advantage… Took him long enough.

“Right on time,” Sy says as you step into the kitchen. You take the glass of wine he’s holding out to you and take a sip.

“Mmm...” The sound you make is almost a moan. One look at the bottle on the table tells you this is a really nice wine – one from a price range you can’t afford to shop at...

“Gift from a client. Walker said I could take it. I guess his wine cellar doesn’t fit any more.” Sy pulls you in for a hug. It doesn’t last long, but it’s nice, very nice.

Dinner is amazing. Sy is a great cook – when given means, motive, and opportunity – and he has prepared three courses of absolute heaven. He only has to assure you twice that the price of the ingredients won’t put your family in financial ruin.

You’re halfway through dessert – a deliciously indulgent, rich chocolate mousse you’re fairly sure he made from scratch – when you realize something.

“You can’t have done all the laundry. We don’t have the space to hang all of that...”

“I fixed the dryer,” Sy interrupts, “I’m sorry I only did that after it became a problem to me, personally.”

“That’s alright...”

“No, it ain’t,” Sy grins. He knows you.

“Very well, then. I accept your apology. You’re forgiven.” You remember the moment you knew you were going to marry this man: right after your first fight – he had been wrong, although you can’t remember what he’d been wrong about. It had had something to do with your mother. Either way, right after that fight, he’d apologized, and for some reason the lack of excuses had made you want to jump him right where you were standing. You’d almost broken up with him when you realized you weren’t half as good at apologizing as he was.

“Alright, well,” Sy smirked, still. It was incredibly attractive, and at least as annoying. “I was planning on makin’ up for that, but now that I don’t have to…” His voice trailed off for a moment before you gently nudged his leg with your foot.

“How about we finish this bottle upstairs?” You don’t need to tell him twice: he’s on his feet before you even finish the sentence.

“You go ahead, Sugar,” he says before kissing you as gently as a giant like him can muster, “I’ll make sure this kitchen is spotless before I come up.”

“Oh, Mr. Syverson, you are killing me.”

“Oh,” Sy adds with a grin on his face, “and you were right. The vacuum cleaner sucks, we need a new one.”

“Say that again…”

“The vacuum cleaner sucks?” He knows damn well which part you’re referring to. That wasn’t it.

“Before that.”

“Ah. You were right.”

“You have ten minutes to get to bed, or I’m starting without you,” you tease, knowing very well he wouldn’t mind one bit if you did start before he got there.

Sy is impatient as ever when he finally steps into your bedroom, pulling his shirt over his head before the door even shuts behind… Alright, maybe the door doesn’t close because he just leaves it wide open.

“Sy! Close the door!” you shriek, but he just takes a few more steps until he’s right next to the bed.

“Why? Kids ain’t home. We’re alone, we don’t need to close the door,” he says as he pushes you back onto the mattress. “We don’t gotta be quiet, either.” With a devilish grin on his face, he kisses you. First your lips, then your neck. His beard doesn’t tickle – not after all these years. He shaved it off once, only to immediately get on growing it back, because you wouldn’t give him any. You move your hands through the hair on his chest while Sy roughly pulls your shirt over your head. He groans appreciatively when the bra he picked out for you appears.

“Do you like it?” he asks. He doesn’t have the greatest track record when it comes to picking stuff that’s actually to your tastes, but you’d be lying if those items didn’t have their own special little drawer – that you definitely haven’t opened in far too long…

“I do,” you purr into his ear, biting your lip when he grinds his hips into you. He’s hard, seeking friction, release. You love when he gets this worked up over you. “You did a good job.”

“Hm,” he growls, “I didn’t like it at first. Thought it was kinda boring.” That’s not what you want to hear… It’s a good thing he opens his mouth again to continue: “But now that it’s your tits in there… Can’t decide if I wanna keep it on ya or rip it off…” To your surprise, he opts for the former, making sure to kiss every inch of skin that’s newly available to him as he makes his way down your stomach, dragging you to the edge of the bed as he goes along.

He can do it within minutes. Making you come on his tongue, that is. He never does, because the smug fucking bastard likes teasing you too much to ever give you what you want – nay, need – that quickly. That patience, however, is nowhere to be found when it comes to taking your clothes off. He admires you and your new underwear for maybe five seconds, and then your panties are somewhere in the room. No, you don’t care where, exactly.

“Fuck, Sugar, you’re beautiful,” Sy growls from between your legs. “I’ve missed this sweet little cunt.” His words used to startle you so bad you asked him to stop talking multiple times when you’d first started going out. Now, they just make you blush, and they make you wet, and that’s all that you need from him right now. Sometimes, you’re still grateful for the moments he can’t speak – when his mouth is otherwise occupied, so to speak. It’s the moaning, and growling, and the grunts and obscene slurping – hideous word, but sadly the only applicable description – sounds that get you. It’s the pleasure, and the way he knows exactly how and when and where to move his tongue to make you squirm, moan, and scream in his strong arms. Unfortunately, he still isn’t exactly at that point. He’s still teasing, and you’re still whining, and no one is coming.

In no time, you’re going nuts. It’s not bad enough to speak up. And by that you mean: beg him to finally eat you in that way you both know makes you see stars and seek God and scream His name – or Sy’s, but what difference does that make, anyway? Instead, he keeps you right there, at the point where you’re just invested enough in the fantastic feeling that you want to be consumed by it, but it just isn’t enough to keep you from getting distracted. By the feeling of his beard against the inside of your thighs. By the fact that your panties somehow ended up on the lamp on his bedside table. By the gentle pulsing of the vein in his forearm your finger currently rests on. And he keeps you there, and keeps you there until you’ve almost convinced yourself you’ve gotten so used to this – to him – that he can’t do it anymore, forgetting that he really isn’t even trying. That twenty years of ‘this’, whatever the fuck that may mean, just means that he’s found so many different ways to take care of you that he couldn’t go through all of them in one night even if you could physically take it, simply because he’d run out of time before he made it halfway through the list.

And when you get there, to that point where you start thinking he might just not be as good as he used to, you’ve lost. Because from then on, it’s a minute. Thirty seconds. Maybe even twenty, or ten, or less – not that you’d know, because you couldn’t count to three anymore if you tried.

“Darlin’, you taste like fuckin’ heaven,” he mutters, never taking his lips off your skin completely. His fingers tease your entrance, pads coarse and calloused. It appears that, even after all these years, you still haven’t learned that if your mouth won’t beg, your body will. Unconsciously, you angle your hips, lean into his touch, use your legs to pull him closer – and he answers. As always. Sy knows what you want, and he doesn’t think twice to give it to you, even if – possibly especially when – what you really want isn’t what you think you want. He’ll know, just like he’ll know exactly when his name is on the tip of your tongue, waiting to be released along with everything he’s building up inside of you.

A loud moan escapes you when his fingers curl inside you, diligently working the perfect spot while his tongue laps at your clit, looking for the perfect move, speed, pressure, everything, until you shriek the words ‘oh God, Sy, don’t stop’, or you gasp, or moan – or one of the million other ways in which you tell him what needs done without saying a single word. And he doesn’t stop. Not until he unravels you completely. Not until you remember why you normally close and lock that door and keep quiet. Not until you know with every fiber of your being that he holds back, and he reminds you of everything he’s capable of.

When he comes back up, caging your body in between his strong arms and broad chest, pinning you down on the mattress, you hope he’s had enough time to catch his breath, because you immediately pull him into a long, deep kiss that says more than just ‘I missed you’. If it was at all possible to stress every syllable of a sentence, now would be the time. But who’s got time for talking when that impatient bulge grinds between your legs, the heavy, coarse fabric of Sy’s jeans harsh against your sensitive skin.

You push against his shoulders – it’s usually pointless, but he seems to have grown at least as impatient as you have, so he gets up. Four hands reach for his belt. You always make a great team, but this is madness, and neither of you are surprised you don’t get anything done this way.

“Move those hands if you wanna keep ‘em, Syverson,” you say with a sly smile on your face. He grits his teeth when you look up at him – it’s one of the things you know he loves to hate, because it drives him insane, and he doesn’t like that. Sy wants to be in control. Tough luck. Getting him naked is child’s play now that his hands aren’t in the way anymore, and you can’t stifle an appreciative moan when his cock appears in front of you.  

“I’m not saying I married you for this big dick, but it didn’t hurt your chances.” You bite your lip and look up at him. The amusement at your words fades off his face within seconds, making room for something darker and more sinister than you usually get to see.

“If you can use that mouth to talk, you can use it to suck my cock,” he says. You’ve played this game a thousand times, yet you’re still stupid enough to open your mouth in protest, and he seizes the opportunity. “That’s a good girl.” There’s a hint more… savagery to his naturally dark and gravelly voice than you’re used to hearing under normal circumstances. It’s a possessive, almost animalistic sound. It’s something that used to scare you when you were first going out. Something he didn’t let you get too closely acquainted with until he knew for sure he could trust you with that side of him – the side of him that sometimes just loves to shove his cock down your throat in one smooth thrust until you’re gagging and fighting back tears. Tonight is exactly the night you want every inch of him in the exact way you haven’t had him in for the longest time.

Your eyes beg, and once again he listens. How one man can be made up of so many contradictions, is something you’ve accepted you might never find out. ‘He gently fucks your throat.’ It sounds completely insane, but it’s possible. And you know it’s possible, because it’s happening. To you. Right now. If that weren’t the case, you probably wouldn’t have believed it yourself. He’s kind and ruthless at the same time, moving in and out of your mouth with controlled movements while moans and profanities escape him with reckless abandon. His hand is tangled in your hair, gathering a good portion of it in his fist, gripping just tight enough to remind you he’s there, but not so tight you’re in pain.

“God, baby, I love fucking this pretty li’l mouth of yours,” he says, teeth gritted, eyes closed, and the expression on his face warped in such a way that tells you it’s taking everything he’s got to keep whatever composure he has left at this stage. “But I gotta tell ya,” he continues as his breathing grows more and more ragged, a low growl barely audible on the exhale, “this ain’t what I need right now.”

He effortlessly tosses you back onto the mattress, finding his way between your legs in no time.

“Baby, I want you,” he growls before he kisses you again. “I need you. Need your tight, wet, fucking pussy around my cock right now.” He doesn’t move away from you much as he lifts your legs onto his shoulders. He’ll be deep, too deep, maybe, and you know you’ll regret this in the morning – but what good has regret ever done anyone, anyway? As he pushes into you, you realize he’s on his last bit of restraint. You take one last good look at him, because after this, it’s going to hurt so good you won’t be able to keep your eyes open for so much as a split second.

“Careful,” you chuckle, already far more out of breath than you like to admit, “you’re too much for me.”

“What’re’ya talkin’bout, woman?” Sy grumbles. “I know you can take me.” He’s not wrong. Exhibit A would be the fact that he buried his cock in your tight pussy with that one, agonizingly slow thrust. The next one is neither slow, nor even remotely as gentle, making you moan as you pull his face down to yours and kiss him. Your legs are trembling on his shoulders within minutes, and you find yourself chanting his name religiously – making it just about the only thing in your life you’ve done in that particular manner.

“Good God, you’re amazing,” Sy growls in your ear as he bottoms out with every erratic thrust. You watch as his jaw clenches when you dig your nails into the flesh of his back, careful to avoid the scars – an unwelcome souvenir from his time in the army. Most of the memories of the times you accidentally caught one in the heat of the moment have faded away by now. It hasn’t happened in years. You could draw a map of his back: every muscle, every scar, every mark on his skin is etched into your brain, and will stay there until the day you die. He’s yours every bit as much as you’re his, although he likes to put a little more emphasis on the latter.

“Want me to fuck another baby into you?” Hearing him say that makes you realize how incredibly happy you are that he can’t make good on that threat anymore. Sy hadn’t been happy when you’d informed him that you were bestowing upon him the incredible responsibility of contraception after having baby number three, but appointments were made, surgeries were had and all was right with the world. He’d only pouted and moaned about shooting blanks for about six months until things went back to normal.

“Do your worst, big guy,” you tease. You heard his breathing when he asked his question, felt the sheen of sweat covering his whole, massive body as he continued pounding you into the mattress with the same relentless pace as before, only slightly wavering in rhythm… You pull him close, gritting your teeth to get through the cramp in your leg as the weight of Sy’s body forces your legs closer to yours. “Fill me up.”

“That was mean,” Sy mutters, out of breath.

“As if you would have lasted any longer!” you say as you slap him in the face with a pillow. “I was about to tap out, anyway.” Not one word of that is a lie. You wouldn’t have walked for a week if you’d let him keep going. It really was a good thing he was a little on edge already…  

“Fine, woman, have your victory,” he growls as he pulls you into his arms and lifts you off the bed. “Ready for another shower?”

[lunathebee]

THE MOON BOYS REACTING TO Y/N GETTING INTO A CAR ACCIDENT

Warning: mention of hospital and injuries

A/n: Please don't read if this triggers any bad memories of yours; I wrote this to comfort myself. Thank you and have a good day ^^

🍓 Steven Grant 🍓

Marc probably hid this news from Steven because he thought you would get better quickly, and therefore he could save Steven from a mental breakdown.

But Steven can sense something is wrong: how you rarely show up, how Marc looks away when your name is mentioned, how you never answer your phone.

At first, he thought you didn't want to be friends anymore and he was so sad.

Any talk with Marc about "Y/n" got shut down quickly and just left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Until one day he took over Marc's body and realized he was standing in a hospital, the  distinct odor made him feel nauseous.

"Excuse me? Mr.Spector? Usual visiting time today, right? You can go in now; they're waiting" A nurse came up and spoke to Steven; it seemed like she knew Marc.

Steven was so confused, he was about to leave and go back home. "I'm sorry, who is waiting for me?".

The nurse shot him a questioning look and blinks a few times. "The...doctor and Y/n Y/l/n? In room number 1? I'm sorry. Have I mistook you with someone?".

Steven can't believe his ears, his legs turn into jelly, and he falls back down on the hard floor. His mind gets swarmed with so many emotions.

He had to hold himself back, chocking from a sob that was coming.

You were in an accident, a car accident, all this time, and Marc had the audacity to hide it from HIM.

"I'm sorry...I'm so sorry...Oh no...Oh..." Steven can barely contain himself when he sees you in the hospital bed; he is scared to even touch you.

Overall, when it comes to Steven, a lot of tears will be involved, even when he tries his best not to cry.

🍓 Marc Spector 🍓

A call from your phone number is all it takes.

He picked it up as usual, but instead of your voice, it was a person saying "Sir, are you Marc? You are listed as an emergency contact An accident happened; I need you to go to—".

Marc ends the call so quickly and fumbles with his jacket, his hands shaking from what he just heard.

Oh dear, he is frantic and wants to be near you all the time.

Will have at least one fight with the nurse or the doctor because he just refused to leave you alone.

"SIR, THE PATIENT NEEDS REST" - "I WILL BE QUIET".

And as I said before, he will hide everything from Steven; it's not on purpose; Marc just wants to help you get better as soon as possible, before Steven can notice.

(That backfired quickly)

Marc never told anyone, but he has slept in the hospital hallway, on the bench, on a chair, anywhere he can.

He couldn't miss the doctor's update about your situation.

🍓 Jake Lockley 🍓

One step away from committing a crime.

Arguing with the nurse and doctor in Spanish.

But never with you.

Never.

Jake doesn't treat you any differently than before.

It is still the same lovesick look.

He would hold and kiss your hands whenever he got the chance.

Jake will talk a lot too, engaging in conversation—anything to keep your little head forgetting about the pain.

While Steven is too scared to say anything and Marc is worried about your health, Jake is there to comfort you.

Cry all you want, but cry in his arms, please.

How cruel do you have to be to keep a man from touching you?

[sunkissedandseraphic]

My Guardian Angel is Crying: Chapter 1

Story Summary: When Rick and Michonne watched Judith walk onto the school bus, calling out a small "I love you!" before the doors closed behind her, they smiled, knowing their family had welcomed another good day. But merely hours later, they receive a call that shatters their world: while going back to the classroom after their time on the playground, someone had managed to kidnap Judith, and there was no trace of who took her and where she was now. Desperate to find their little girl, Rick and Michonne were determined to get to the bottom of this, even if that meant supporting each other and their son in the midst of their own breakdowns. They had to find her, because if they didn't, they'd crumble into pieces too small to put back together

Chapter Summary: Everything had started so normal for the Grimes family: they shared their tender morning moments before the kids left for school and Rick left for work, but eventually, all the joy the morning brought would soon be shattered within seconds

Warnings: Kidnapping/child abduction

A/N: I am working on requests! Due to school I have not written much new, so I'm posting some work already on my ao3, but trust I will get to requests!

The day had kicked off just like it always did, the routine becoming something the family could find structure in: Rick woke up to his alarm at the crack of dawn– or what King County liked to call six in the morning, and as he tried to head for the shower, Michonne’s arm wrapped around his waist and pulled him back under the covers. Maybe he could use another five minutes in bed.

After finally being released from his wife’s grasp, Rick headed for the bathroom to get ready for work while Michonne went down the hall to wake Carl up for school and start on breakfast; god knows Rick Grimes was no chef. While Michonne was busy downstairs, Rick would shower, put on his uniform, and quietly make his way into Judith’s room to get her up and ready for school; it was their system, and it worked just right for their family.

But, if you had told Rick and Michonne that morning when they hugged their little girl goodbye as she walked onto the school bus, it could have been the last time they would ever hear her voice or hold her in their arms again, they would have called you insane. 

Although, bad things happen to good people every day. 

After kissing Michonne and Carl goodbye, Rick was quick to hop into his patrol car and head down to the station. He knew he’d have a long day ahead of him; after recently busting a drug ring case he had been assigned to, Rick had piles of paperwork awaiting him at his desk, ready to just swallow him whole. He had warned Michonne and his kids that he would likely be home late tonight again, and that those late nights would hopefully start to dwindle now that the case had been closed.

When he finally got to work, the hours blurred together. The paperwork was long and extensive, and to make sure it was done right, Rick needed a lot of patience he was rapidly running out of. Between looking back at records and reports, his desk had turned into a sea of paper, making Rick feel like he was drowning underneath a tidal wave. It wasn’t until his phone started ringing in his back pocket that he snapped out of his focus and realized just how long he had been at this, and how much he really needed to clean his office. 

He fished his phone out, groaning, and answered when he saw Michonne’s contact pop up on the screen. “Michonne, can I call you back? I’m buried under–”

“Rick, she’s gone.”

Michonne’s panicked, wavering voice caught Rick off guard. What was she talking about? Fear surged through his body like lightning, and his heart started to race so fast he could hear it in his eardrums. “What? What are you talking about? Who? Who’s gone?” 

“The school just called, they… they can’t find her! She– She was on the playground and now they just… they can’t–”

The horror in her tone sent a shiver down his spine. In the years he’d known her, Rick had never once heard Michonne sound so upset, so genuinely terrified. Her words came out so fast and so frantic that he could barely process anything she was trying to say. 

“Michonne, honey, slow down, I-I can’t understand you. What are you saying?” He asked, attempting to ignore the anxiety rising in his throat, making his stomach churn. This wasn’t normal; something was not right. 

There was a pause on the other line, the only sound being Michonne’s shaky breathing, followed closely by a sob. Rick’s heart dropped into his stomach, but before he could ask any more questions, he heard his wife’s broken voice say the worst three words the man could have ever heard.

“Judith is missing.”

Rick’s whole world seemed to stop spinning at that moment. His little girl, his daughter, his life, was missing? 

Nausea washed over him instantly, and it was a miracle that Rick could sift through the brain fog and sudden ringing in his ears fast enough to form a coherent response to what he had just heard. “Where are you?” God, he felt like he was suffocating; how did he deserve to breathe when his baby was gone?

“I-I’m heading down to the school now. Carol… Carol is picking up Carl when she picks up Henry and Sophia, but the school needs us down there. Now.” Rick went to nod, barely able to recognize that Michonne couldn’t see him, taking a minute before he was able to speak again– his mouth felt like a desert, when did that happen? When did he seemingly forget how to talk?

“I… I’m on my way…”

Rick felt like his mind was on autopilot as he hung up the call. His hands were trembling as he shoved his phone back into his pocket, staring out into space before slamming his fists down on the mess of papers, sending a few stragglers flying off the desk. Cursing under his breath, he reached for his jacket and threw it on, practically running out of his office and down the hall to his captain’s. 

Knocking on the door, a voice called for him to enter, and soon, Rick zoned back in to find himself standing in front of his captain, Deanna Monroe, who seemed to be awaiting what he had come into her office to discuss.

He struggled to swallow against the lump in his throat, causing tears to start blurring his vision. Rick quickly reached up to wipe his eyes before clearing his throat, knowing he needed to get out of this building and be with his family. “Captain, my wife just called me: our daughter, Judith, is, uh… she’s missing. The school needs us down there, I need to– I need to be there,”

The more Rick talked, the more strained his voice became until it eventually cracked at the end. He watched as his captain’s face transformed into a horrified expression as she quickly sat up in her chair, eyes wide with sympathy.

“Shit, Rick, go, alright? I’ll get someone to cover the rest of the paperwork for that case, just go,” Deanna was immediate to assure Rick, dismissing the man as she stood and walked towards him, placing a hand on his shoulder. 

Rick couldn’t help it as his head dropped, letting a tear finally roll down his cheek at the small touch. “Thank you,” he nodded, sniffling as he rushed out of the room and out to the parking lot.

The entire drive over to the school, Rick was numb. He couldn’t feel anything. He couldn’t hear the radio blasting at full volume over the sudden return of the tinnitus that now plagued him. He couldn’t see anything except for what was directly in front of him, the world elsewhere seeming to go fuzzy. He couldn’t think, feeling as if somebody else was in control of his actions. 

The next thing Rick knew, he was bursting into the principal's office at Judith’s school. He scanned the room: he saw Michonne sitting in one of the chairs, eyes stained red and puffy, Judith’s kindergarten teacher and her classroom aid, a detective that he recognized from his own station— Dwight was his name, Rick remembered being on a case or two with him— and he saw Paul Rovia, the principal, sitting behind his desk in front of him.

He couldn’t contain himself anymore. His breathing was ragged as he struggled to stay focused on the scene in front of him, his chest constricting more and more every second.

“Where is she?!”

Rick snapped, adrenaline running rampant through him. He could feel his shoulders shaking– from fear or fury he could not tell– as he tried to keep himself grounded, but as the principal stood up from his chair to greet him, Rick barely allowed him to get a word in. “Mr. Grimes, thank you for coming–”

“Where is she? Where is my daughter?” His eyes narrowed at the man standing in front of him as demands left his lips, volume rising with every word. The officer was in no mood for pity condolences and reassurances; he wanted answers, and he wanted them now. 

Paul shut his eyes and took a breath, trying to ease his agitation before attempting to calm Rick enough to get him to sit down for just five minutes. “Mr. Grimes, if you’ll please–” he started to say, gesturing to the empty seat beside Michonne, but Rick wouldn’t let him say another thing. He let out a huff as his head dropped, the deadly mix of dread and outrage finally boiling over. “No! I need you to tell me where she is!”

“Rick.”  

Then just like that, in an instant, Rick’s anger seemingly dissipated. The sound of Michonne’s voice, the feeling of her hand resting gently on his arm: it was like a siren song to him. Pulled out of his trance of rage, Rick looked down to meet her tearful gaze, and it left him heartbroken to see his love look so destroyed.

Obeying her pleading stare, Rick lowered himself into the chair beside her, weaving his hand tightly into hers as tears welled up in his eyes. He paused to collect himself; run his thumb over the tops of Michonne’s knuckles, take some deep breaths, and find his way back to a sane mindset, where he could be fully present in a conversation that made him want to be sick.

“What… What happened? Where’s our Judy?”

The room fell silent as the couple waited for an answer, and with every moment they didn’t receive one, an ill feeling slowly crept higher into their chests. Judith’s teacher was the last one to see Judith and the first one to finally speak up with her story. “Judith was out at recess this afternoon with the rest of us and as I was bringing them back inside to our classroom, I did a headcount as I’m supposed to and she was there; everyone was accounted for. I lead the class back inside and we get ready for our math lesson. A few minutes later I realize that Judith isn’t in the room,”

The two lovers hung onto every word they heard, trying to find any shred of hope in this nightmare. Feeling her fingers shaking, Rick squeezed Michonne’s hand, praying that small touch would give her some comfort– not that he could blame her if it didn’t. The only thing that could make any of this better was seeing their sweet girl, being chased around the house by Carl, giggling like a madman as she ran off with the cowboy hat she had once again stolen from her older brother’s room.

What Rick and Michonne wouldn’t do to see her smile again.

“I asked my students if anyone had seen her and when nobody could give me an answer, I asked the teacher in the next room to take my class so myself and a few other staff members could try and locate her. We looked in every room in the building and did a sweep of the grounds outside but nobody could find her anywhere. Even after dismissal, we searched again to see if we had missed her, but with the building empty we still couldn’t find Judith anywhere, and it would be pretty easy to see a missing student after everyone had gone home. All of her belongings are still in her classroom cubby,”

“We fully believe this to be a kidnapping,” Dwight said, straightening his stance as he spoke, leaning against the corner wall in the office. “We’ve retained the security camera footage from the last time Judith was seen on school grounds and we have video of a woman loading your daughter into her car and driving off. I had Tara run the license plate number down at the station; Mr. and Mrs. Grimes, do either of you have any connection to a Mrs. Lori Walsh?”

If it wasn’t sickening enough already, then this was just the cherry on top.

Hearing that name was like a punch in the gut to Rick. As Michonne gasped, Rick pulled away from his wife’s grasp and buried his head in his hands, a string of swears coming out before he could even process what he was saying. Of all the people in the world, of all the sick, cruel people to do something like this, Lori Walsh would have never been on the top of his list; hell, he doesn’t even know if she’d be on the list at all. 

“No, no, that’s…” Michonne started to argue, but trailed off, too in shock to finish her thought.

“Goddamnit! Fuck!” Rick’s fists slammed on his knee, a tear finally falling down his cheek. He felt like throwing up. He couldn’t take this anymore. Sighing, he nodded, mentally preparing himself for where this conversation was going to go. “That… That woman is my ex-wife.”

“Is there any reason you could think of that would cause your ex-wife to do this?” Paul asked, leaning forward, starting to fiddle with the sleeves of his jacket, immediately followed up by a question from Dwight. “Does Mrs. Walsh have custody or parental rights over Judith? Any kind of legal claim over her?”

“No. That woman has no kind of claim on our daughter.” Michonne answered instantly, a sharpness in her words that could cut glass. All gazes moved to Rick, who hadn’t looked up from a speck of dust on the rug since Lori’s name had been mentioned. It took some time for him to find the words, but once he did, every detail just poured out of him. 

“Lori and I were married right after we graduated college, and not long after we had a son together. I’m a deputy for the King County Sheriff’s Department, and my partner was her current husband: Shane Walsh. When Lori told me she was pregnant, I-I didn’t know she had been having an affair with him for a few months. She wasn’t sure who the father was, and I didn’t find out until I caught them when Judith was about two years old. I filed for divorce, Shane moved stations, and Lori and I shared custody of our son and Judith. It wasn’t until a little less than a year after our divorce was finalized did I realize that I… I didn’t want my kids, our kids,” Rick reached over and grabbed onto Michonne, almost as if her hold was grounding him, giving him the strength to go on, “living with those two. Ever. I… I couldn’t trust her around either of them. So, we contacted my attorney and fought to revoke custody and terminate her parental rights to both of our children,”

“And what was your ex-wife’s reaction, Mr. Grimes?”

“She put up one hell of a fight, I will say that much– both of them did.” He scoffed, cocking his head. He hated having to be reminded of this time in his life; a time where he was tossed around in a whirl of guilt, heartache, and anger, born from a need to keep his kids safe. “Shane may be Judith’s biological father, but that is my little girl.”

The next few minutes were filled with legal questions that Rick had been anticipating since he’d arrived. He knew how this whole thing worked, he knew he could trust his station to find Judith, but that knowledge didn’t provide him with as much security as he would have liked. He and Michonne answered Dwight's questions about Judith’s appearance and description, recent information on Lori and Shane, all the stereotypical things needed for arrest warrants and news stories.

“Do either of you have the last known residence of Mr. and Mrs. Walsh?”

“Yeah, but if they took Judith they wouldn’t be there. Shane’s a cop, he’s smart; knows all the ways to get around the law, and how to stay out of trouble. But Lori? Lori doesn’t know shit. She’ll do whatever Shane tells her to. Without him, she’d be clueless,”

Even though they knew Rick was likely correct in his assumption, the couple gave Dwight the information regardless, knowing anything at this point could help find Judith. 

Not long later, Principal Rovia was spewing apologies and promises to the two parents, and as Dwight walked them out, he could see the evident despair on their faces. He couldn’t blame them, of course, how else were they supposed to react? 

Before they could leave, Dwight clamped his hand comfortingly onto Rick’s back, offering a sympathetic smile. “We will find her, I promise,” Dwight whispered, earning an appreciative nod from Rick, and a tearful grin from Michonne. 

As Dwight grabbed his walkie from his belt, holding down the button and muttering something neither one of them could hear into the radio, Rick turned to Michonne. He couldn’t recall a time when she looked so hopeless, defeated; it caused his soul to shatter. With no hesitation, Rick took her into his arms, stroking her hair as he felt her bury her head into his jacket.

“They’re… They’re gonna find her, alright?”

He assured her, but in reality, he could barely force himself to believe it. In response, Michonne said nothing at first, only gripping onto her husband with all the strength she could muster as a sob ripped from her throat. She had already lost her Andre, years before her beautiful life with Rick and Carl and Judith, and she couldn’t handle losing another one of her babies. She wouldn’t accept that.

“I want our Judith back…”

The words were barely above a whisper, but Rick’s ears picked up every one, her quivering breath only making him hold her closer. He had nothing he could tell her anymore; Judith was gone, and their world was crashing down around them.

[scheodingers-muppet]

reputation (stranger things version) let’s go

…Ready For It? - jancy. the whole “i’ve known i wanted you since we first met” kinda vibe really fits them i think. “some boys are trying too hard, he don’t try at all though. younger than my ex’s but he acts like such a man” sorry steve. “knew i was a robber first time that he saw me. stealing hearts and running off” nancy is really the only character we see *multiple* people crushing on. steve and jonathan, of course, but also dustin, fred, arguably robin.

End Game - steddie. “you and me, we got big reputations” king steve and the freak, two sides of some big reputations. “i got some big enemies” being hated by the school and town and the literal upside down. “in rumors, i’m knee deep” “i’ve made mistakes…but something was born on the forth of july” steve’s huge character arch we see in season 3, over the summer.

I Did Something Bad - nancy. shes realms the only one i can see for this one. the confidence and bad-ass of it really only fits her

Don’t Blame Me - steve. why? because i said so. i fully believe he loves VERY deeply. why? because. i said so.

Delicate - steddie, from eddie’s pov. “my reputations never been worse so, you must like me for me” literal manhunt for him and steve’s making googoo eyes at him. “dark jeans and your nikes” is so steve coded. “i know that it’s delicate” not only is eddie wanted for murder, but also, steve’s reputation would be very delicate; even been friends with eddie could make him a target

Look What You Made Me Do: el. “the role you made me play of the fool” and being used in vecna’s plan. “i got smarter, i got harder in the nick of time” “i don’t trust nobody and nobody trusts me” her trust has ben broken so many times and shes had to fight tooth and nail for the trust in her now “the old taylor can’t come to the phone right now. why? oh, because she’s dead” paralleled to el coming back at the end of season 2 completely changed

So It Goes… - jancy, from nancy’s pov. “we breakdown a little, but when you get me alone, it’s so simple” “you know i’m not a bad girl but, i’ll do bad things with you”

Gorgeous: ronance, from nancy’s pov. “i got a boyfriend, he’s older than us.” “you’re so cool, it makes me hate you so much.” and “i’m furious at you for making me feel this way” with how nancy didn’t like her at first. “ocean blue eyes, looking in mine” tldr; nancy’s gay awakening is robin

Getaway Car: jancy. “i wanted to leave him. i needed a reason” and “he poisoned the well, i was lying to myself” about steve. “we were flying but we never got far” and “think about the place where you first met me” with the relationship starting to crumble. “we were jet set bonnie and clyde until i switched to the other side” i like to imagine this as her going to robin but that’s just me.

King Of My Heart: steddieeeeee. okay listen. i love when fics make references to king steve and steve likes the name. i adore royal imagery with them. “we rule the kingdom inside my room” “king of my heart, body and soul” i LOVEEE eddie calling him king steve again, but as like, “you’re the king of my heart” “you’re love is a secret im hoping, dreaming to keep”

Dancing With Our Hands Tied: byler. “i loved you in secret…how were you to know?” “deep blue but you painted me golden” when blue meets yellow in the west. “i loved you in spite of deep fears that the world would divide us” i think mike might be starting to realize his feelings for will while he’s gone, loving him even though he’s scared the distance will hurt them. “dancing like it was the first time”

Dress: ronance. why? idk it just fits. nancy and robin get close, become friends and nancy realizes her feelings for her. i can also see elmax if you remove the sexual elements of the song.

This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things: steve to tommy and carol. “it was so nice throwing big parties” “it was so nice being friends again…but you stabbed me in the back while shaking my hand” tommy leaving him for billy. i just need to see steve lose his shit, honestly.

Call It What You Want: steddie. idk what you want from me, its so steve talking about eddie before they’re official. “my castle crumbled over night…they took the crown but it’s alright” losing “king” title. “nobody’s heard from me in months” falling down the social rankings and living a more “quiet” life (ie no parties and such) “my baby’s fly like a jet stream high above the whole scene” both eddie looking down on social hierarchy and also eddie perched on his chair during campaigns, being literally above the whole scene. “all the jokers dressing up as kings” billy taking his role. “you don’t need to save me, but would you run away with me?” steve maybe talking to eddie about how he can “pay him back” for saving his life or something cute like that.

New Year’s Day: stobin. this song has always kinda been platonic to me. but it’s so them. the devotion of always being there, no matter what or why. “please don’t ever become a stranger whose laugh i would recognize anywhere” I MEANNNNN

[lunar-years]

ok happy wip wednesday everyone xxx I had a burst of inspiration today and now my unnamed rjk friends with benefits fic is at 22k words which means I'm giving you an extra-long sneak peak :)

Please enjoy this little snippety snippet:

The breakdown that had been building all day finally came once he sat down in his driver’s seat and realized, promptly, that he didn’t feel capable of putting the car into gear. Beyond that, driving home felt like a herculean effort, and once he got there he wouldn’t be able to turn on the telly, because it was still set to Sky Sports from the night before, and all the pundits were going to be talking about were him. He couldn’t log on to his socials, either, because the fans were all going to be talking about him, and not in the good way, and besides that he didn’t want to look at his mobile because his dad might’ve called, or might not’ve called, and Jamie didn’t even know which one was worse one way or the other anymore. He was out now for the next three matches. That were bad enough as it was. Add in that Roy might not even talk to him now, might go back to that terrible time when he'd refused to coach Jamie directly and make Nate or Beard do it instead, and things were a rightful misery. Jamie didn’t have any idea how to make it up to him. Roy being so adamant about not mixing work with whatever else they got up to, even his best apology blowjob wasn’t likely to suffice. He wondered, too tired to feel all that desperate about it, if this was the end of all of that, too. Roy probably wouldn’t want to fuck him again after such a display, and Jamie could hardly blame him. He shouldn’t feel such grief over it, honestly. Jamie had known from the beginning the sex was temporary. Just a bit of fun. And now he’d gone and botched even that, which was probably always something that was bound to happen, given that it was him. But just as well, there it was. It had happened now, and Jamie didn’t feel resigned to it like he was supposed to, he felt…hollow. Hurt.  That was his own fucking fault, too.  It was too much to think about. More than anything, he wanted to shut off his brain for even an hour. As that weren’t an option, he settled for the next best thing—hitting the steering wheel so hard it made his hand throb and then bursting promptly into tears about it, right there in the Richmond car park.  //

He didn’t know how long he sat there pathetically crying, but eventually there was a gentle knock on the window. Keeley. Jamie blinked twice just to confirm it was really her and not a hallucination, like them people who got stuck in the desert and then imagined springs of water just because they were so desperate for it. She smiled at him kindly through the window, looking solid enough, and then tapped it again with her finger and gestured for him to roll it down.  “What are you still doing here?” he asked as soon as he’d done so, swiping at his face and trying not to be deeply embarrassed at her finding him in such a state. Usually Keeley disappeared with Rebecca immediately after their matches, off for cocktails and gossip or whatever it was the two of them got up to. He'd never expected her to show up. Now, Keeley stared at him with big, soft eyes that made Jamie want immediately to start crying again. She didn’t answer him immediately. “Oh babe,” she whispered instead, bringing a handkerchief up to his face and swiping lightly at this cheeks. “Care if I join you?” Jamie nodded, flipping the lock. Keeley walked around the boot and rematerialized in the passenger side, immediately pulling him towards her over the centre console and stroking through his hair before he could even process it was happening, like she was his guardian fairy, or whatever.  Ridiculously, Jamie’s brain chose then to remember the time she’d called his car pavlovian. Couldn’t be in here without wanting to jump his bones. Well Keels, he thought, letting out a clipped laugh that sounded more like a choke and made Keeley's grip in his hair tighten, look how far we’ve come. There was decidedly nothing sexy about him getting snot all over her Richmond windbreaker as he sobbed into her shoulder, sometimes letting out that hysterical, barked laugh. He couldn't stop. Keeley's hair was frizzy-soft today, the ends tickling his neck where her ponytail draped over him, and the edge of the console was pressing into his side unpleasantly, but he didn’t want to move, either. He didn’t want her to go away.  “I was worried about you when you didn’t answer my six messages, love,” Keeley said softly, pressing her lips against his hairline. 

[ivestas]

Can I request some gus fluff or atleast hurt/comfort?? if you could, maybe do a part 2 to this?

the broken hornet nest

Part one: LINK 

Summary: You’re told to drive Fring back to his house. 

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: spoilers for BCS s6 (entirety), very mild canon divergence, yet another mental breakdown(?) 

Note: anon, I propose to you something even better; a hurt/comfort part 2 of that fic??? jhehehehhehe i think thats a good idea 

It was evening time.

“You think they killed him..?” Victor muttered to Tyrus, whose face remained contemplative—then again, he always looked contemplative and calm. “There’s no way they’d believe Hector? Right?” 

Tyrus exhaled, almost bored. “Who knows?” He shook his head. “Probably not, though. Hector doesn’t have anything. Lalo’s buried, and so are the cameras and shit.”

“Mm.” Victor seemed unsatisfied with the answer. He opened his mouth but clamped it the moment a car appeared from a distance. 

Its lights blinked, and it only took you a second longer to realize that wasn’t just any car, but Gustavo’s. 

Suddenly, the silent buzzing of your brain erupted in noise. 

But, you were conscious of how your body presented itself; masking a face of calm, you waited as the car drew forth into the lot of the chicken house.  The same one that his lackeys and he had forced you and Nacho into submission, to join. 

“You took what I wanted, and now, your lives are mine and mine alone.” The venom in Gustavo’s voice was unfamiliar but commanding, and it stuck fear into you—not for death, no. 

But him. 

He had stared at you for a moment too long, and when you looked into his eyes, an abyss of dark and fire reflected back. There was no kindred brush of humanity—this was not a man, but a being bundled together by blood-laden promises. 

Someone called your name.

Your head snapped up, and it was Mike who stood there. 

Mike was looking at you strangely, but his voice betrayed nothing; “Mr. Fring needs you to drive him home. He drank.” 

You saw that the car was neatly parked, and in the passenger seat, you could make out the vague silhouette of Gustavo. 

“Victor’s gonna drive your car back home,” he said. 

Ah. That’s why he and Tyrus were in your car..?

Why’d you not notice that sooner? 

“Just go, kid. He’s waiting.” 

You nod. 

Briskly, you walk past him and pause for only a second to see Victor drive your car off before slipping into the driver’s seat of Gustavo’s car. 

There was a hesitance that dictated your movements, making them a little jerkier than what you wanted, a little obvious. 

When you sat, you acknowledged Gustavo with a nod, quick to secure the seatbelt. “Hello, sir.”

He looked at you. “Hello.” 

And, like a nervous schoolgirl, you averted your gaze and set your hands on the steering wheel. 

You were hyperaware of every move, and you hated it, fuck—your breathing felt too loud, your face too fucking warm, and your heart?—God, he could hear it, couldn’t he?—

A deep chuckle paused your swirl of thoughts. 

“I don’t bite, you know,” Gustavo said. “No need to be so nervous.” 

You breathe, your knuckles whitening as you clutched the steering wheel and carefully turned it. “I’m sorry.” Guilt pressed against the back of your neck like the blade of a guillotine.

“Don’t be. I understand.” Warmth lined his words. 

“I’m forced to work with the man that killed him, just the way you are.”

Your foot pressed a little harder on the gas than you intended, shooting the car into the road. 

God, having him this close was madness—memories of Nacho, and then of Gustavo, they all slam against each other, hurling you farther and farther down an unclimbable pit. 

Self-hatred was what it has evolved to; you did well at pretending everything was normal and well back at home. Back where his presence didn’t burn you. Back where you could shove away memories of that night—

“I’m glad, because I feel the same.”

You nearly choked on the air. 

A part of you begged to turn away and hole out those sinful thoughts, each slathered in feelings of betrayal—Gustavo, Gustavo, Gustavo—

Nacho, forgive me.

Please, forgive me? Please? 

But that was merciful. Forgiveness, for you? You’re too far gone. Atonement came in blood, but you didn’t have the fucking heart.

“Something’s tearing you apart, isn’t it?” 

Again, your brain froze at the sound of his voice, pushing everything to a halt. 

But guilt lingered. 

“I…” Should you be honest? Or lie? Was there a ‘right’ to this? What do you even do?

“Just talk.” His words were gentle. “Say anything.” 

Your breath shakily. “Could we, maybe, park the car somewhere? I can’t—I might—”

“Yes. Just pull over here.” 

‘Here’ being the open desert field with nothing in sight. 

You didn’t care though. You were more than eager to pull over to buy time—time for what, you weren’t sure at all. 

But when you stumbled out of the car, you shut the door and lean against it for a second. Your body was actively working against you, sucking out all energy you possessed and leaving you heaving with unbreakable thoughts—and those thoughts compounding to hit your skull. It almost made you feverish, and the answer to why was there—

—just as that answer is the same antidote to your slow, proverbial destruction. 

The crunch of gravel makes your head turn, and you saw that Gustavo was approaching your side of the car. 

He, however, didn’t say anything, nor seemed irritated at your state; he quietly slid by your side, standing still and staring at the shadowed landscape. 

He only said one word: “Talk.” 

You hated how easy it was to follow that command—and you loathed the underlying flutter of comfort that shot through you, a warmth that washed the guilt away like water over a wound. 

“I… you said that you still worked with the same people that killed your brother.” 

He turned his head to you and nodded. 

It was hard to hold his gaze, but you did so. 

“Then, do you feel guilty? Because you’re working with them?” 

“No,” he smiled. “Because I plan to toss them away like stones.” 

“Oh.” 

You stare at the ground. When you spoke, your voice was small—almost pathetic. “I don’t think I’ll be able to function much longer. I—fuck, it’s hard to put into words, but…”

The words were scary, but you said them anyway. “But I feel as though he’ll never forgive me. As if, the longer I, uh, humor what’s between us, he’ll hate me more and more.”

The words became harder, and for a moment, you couldn’t help but freeze. Speaking so openly—it felt wrong. Especially to Gustavo Fring, of all people. 

But, strangely, it felt right at the same time. As if he were the only person in the world who could properly understand—or, perhaps, the only person you could…

Trust? 

“Sir?” 

“Just call me Gustavo—” 

“Could you tell me something? Please?” 

Now you looked at him, and what you saw was a dilemma. 

Betrayal, or atonement.

“If I trusted you, what would you do?” You fully turned to him. You decide. “If I gave you my complete and undying faith, what would happen?” Would I come to regret it? Or regret not doing so sooner? 

Gustavo regarded you with a strange expression, one you couldn’t decipher at all. 

But you just stood there, watching his face, watching emotion flash like a film reel—each emotion as unreadable as the next. 

And then, he extended an open hand, palm upward. 

“I would cherish that trust,” he said quietly. “As though it were my own soul.” 

In his eyes, at that moment, you knew what he said was no lie. It was truth, illuminated in the moon’s gentle light that cradled Gustavo’s face. 

You set your hand on his. Then, with your other hand, you hesitantly set it on the back of his. You glance at him. 

He smiled warmly, eyes crinkling at the corners. 

“You’re mine,” you whispered. 

His smile grew. “I always was.” 

[princess-of-the-corner]

I wanna start by saying I'm not trying to start a fight, but you saying that Chloe had some kind of mental break or dissociative episode in Queen Wasp as a way to excuse the train incident has always felt like a bit of a reach

Idk if you've ever had a dissociative episode or mental breakdown or anything like that, and I'm not demanding you share if you have, but I have, and the way we see Chloe act in Queen Wasp is not how someone who is dissociating would act in my experience

She's too cognizant

After snapping, transforming, and running, Chloe has the presence of mind to stop on the closest vantage point she could find, look around for an idea of how to prove herself, focus on the subway, come up with the idea to stage a crash, dial Nadja Chamak's number to tell her about the train so there are cameras present, and stop and paralyze the driver before trying to stop the train

There was a time when I was dissociating after a massive fight with my parents and walking through my neighborhood, and I came to a cross light.

I remember seeing that I couldn't go straight across bc of the red light, and seeing that a car was coming down the street, but I kept walking straight.

The car was too far away to be dangerous to me, but they did slam their brakes and honk.

I didn't register any of that, I just kept walking. I didn't even realize what had happened until hours after I had gotten back home and calmed down.

That's not what happened to Chloé in Queen Wasp. She wasn't thinking clearly bc she was rightfully upset and hurt and acting impulsively, but it wasn't a mental break

BUDDY

Okay okay okay we're just gonna.

Firstly: Different experiences and different words for different things!

Yes, some people's breakdowns are the type of disassociation where they're not aware they're just in full zombie mode.

Other people's breakdowns are organized and focused and seemingly aware! They're still not quite in the right state of mind! But they do things that are a little off and they wouldn't usually because they think it'll make them feel better!

This isn't a disassociation state, this is more like a manic episode. Like, I'm not saying that this is genuinely a manic episode for Chloé because I am not an expert and I don't know if she hits more checks for that sort of disorder and it's a very short episode as far as we can tell while a proper episode would be a longer period of time. It's just the best word I can find to describe this type of breakdown But I have 100% seen and experienced both the 'zombie mode' and the 'oh let's do something about this!!' breakdown.

And yes, in the real world, an episode like this wouldn't result directly to 'fake a train accident', it does result in extremely poor decisionmaking as they ride it out. Things like impulsively chopping off hair, spending money they can't afford to, taking risks in sexual situations, etc. But in a kids show with superheroes, that is 100% on the table.

Again: I am not an expert, but Chloé was going through some hell and I've seen people snap in that sort of way where, were they a cartoon character, could end up in that situation.

Secondly:

You make it sound like I'm just excusing it like 'haha whatever it's chill'. Which, to be fair, Canon did that! The train thing is just never brought up again and she never faces any consequences for it so Canon thinks it's fine!

But even if she is in the most manic or dissassociative or whatever state? She is still responsible for what happens when she comes down from it. And yeah in a fictional world like this you can handwave that action when everyone ends up fine instead of having her go to jail or some shit.

Thirdly:

We aren't talking about how this incident should be ignored. We're talking about how this is considered the worst thing that Chloé has done, and proof that she's 'evil', but it was something done while not only not in the right state of mind, but something that never intended to harm anyone, didn't end up harming anyone, and also did in fact get brushed off by the rest of the cast.

[turtlesocksv2]

Liveblogging Dead Friend Forever Ep 8

Shit has hit the fan and is going to continue hitting the fan this episode. Let's go!

Tee didn't steal the cash Non gave him to pay off his mafia debts? I am, honestly, shocked. I am not, however, shocked that mafia uncle thinks that Non is a police spy. This is not going to end well for Non but at least mafia uncle ends up in jail.

creepy teacher keng is going to get his ass a pair of cement shoes and I am here for it. dude, you are a math tutor why are you trying to investigate the mafia. They really are not trying hard to hide the fact that this is a mafia front. "the bathrooms are off limits, order food and get the fuck out" indeed. The closeup on the water jug makes me suspect poison but instead we get the frankly hilarious getting hit by a car scene, i hope that's how he dies.

OOoof, this favoritism from Non's mom is painful. Like, we knew she probably loved New best but hearing it...yikes. Non's not a good kid, like New is! Non can't do anything right, like New can! Poor Non.

Non's breakdown is so sad. this kid is Going Through It on all fronts.

oh my god, those voices reading the tweets...the salacious tones. so gross. Be On Cloud is Making A Point. very well done.

Non writing out the kills exactly how they happen 3 years from now. Either Non is (one of) the Killers or the killers found the script. So like, YES this is a revenge story! That shouldn't be shocking or disappointing to you, it was telegraphed! The fun is in how we get there not in complicated twists for twists sake! ok, moving on.

Tee being ordered to kill Non...i see i see. Tee doesn't like Non at all but is still horrified at the thought of killing him or his uncle killing Non. because Tee IS still a highschool kid himself, no matter how long his uncle has been making him do mafia shit is probably wasn't that. Tee's still got some goodness/innocence in him, which is probably the side he shows White.

LMAO at the netizens causing problems. yeah that sounds about right!

i am dying to see the awkward conversation between Jin and Non about Non coming back to finish the movie.

Tee being suspiciously nice. he's either plotting to kill Non to prove himself to his uncle or feeling incredible guilt that he's going to take Non to his uncle to get silenced. Or a mix of both! if I was Non i would not trust that water lol.

Jin stares at Non but can't even meet his eyes when Non looks back at him. GOOD. I don't care if he was upset about his crush 'sleeping with someone else', you don't just record people like that! He is, in fact, old enough to know that, even if he has poor impulse control because he's a dumb teenager.

is the prop an ACTUAL AXE. lol. lmao even. how did none of you realize this was going to end badly?!

Anyway, the knife being Non's, actually, is so fun. Just another little detail that the killers wanted the boys to recognize the calling card that's why Por got cut up a bit after he got stabbed by the branch.

You tell them, Non!

Oh, Top getting stabbed and Fluke having to take care of him...part of what Fluke was talking about how it's always him taking care of those things. I'm glad Non got to stab Top a little.

Jin trying to apologize for everyone but let's play some One Republic ft Timbaland 🎵🎶Because It's Too Late! To Apologiiiiize! It's Too Late! 🎵🎶

LMAO I was right to be suspicious of the water!!!! man did that kick in at just the right moment.

LOL Jin lying to the cops is just painful. You can tell that he's lying from a mile away, especially when he says that Non and Mr Keng truly loved each other. I do think it's interesting that they plotted to have the story be that Non ran away with Mr Keng.

Jin winds up the Final Girl of the version Por wound up shooting, even though Non had changed the script to everyone dying...them going back to the valley mansion because of Jin leaving the country...it's all about Jin, just like i've been saying! everything is connecting!

lol they all know Non is probably fucking dead and not with Mr Keng.

Tee, don't ask questions you don't want the answers to.

i knew it! I knew those were going to be Phi's last words to Non and it was going to eat him up! It's going to drive him insane and he's gonna murder people about it!

using the actual footage of Non's murdery breakdown in the movie...evil. Phi going to the movie premier... Iconic.

[golden-fairylights]

It's working now!! And I desperately want to know about 'The one where Charles is falling in love with Pierre' please! 💚

Perfect, and sorry again!

It was actually only the second fic I wrote so its probably not that well written and thought out.

It's a 5+1 one fic and I finished writing it a while back. But I would have to go over it before posting it. (If I'll post it)

Charles and Pierre are driving from Milan back to Monaco for Lorenzos wedding. They have been friends forever (obviously) but Charles just realizes now, that he might be harbouring deeper feelings towards Pierre than just friendship. Pierre has a lot of dates though and loves to flirt, so Charles has a mental breakdown and tries to force his feelings back down.

Even though I didn't edit anything, and just read over the beginning of the fic to remind myself what it was about (because I had actually forgoten) I thought you might like to read a little bit of it. So, here is the beginning :)

Charles has been sleeping in the car for a while now and slowly blinked open his eyes. “Where are we?” he asked Pierre. “We just passed Genoa. You fell asleep directly after we left Milan.” Pierre seemed concerned. “Why are you so tired?” They have been best friends since they were kids, so Pierre knows that Charles can’t sleep in cars. In any car really. Except when he is incredibly tired. And right now, Charles really was. He was lying awake the whole night worrying about something he couldn’t place. His mind was going full speed, but he couldn’t find out why. Every time he thought he might have found the reason why his thoughts were running, they vanished from his brain. “I was lying awake the whole night. But its fine. Do you need a break? I could drive a little.” “I’m sorry you couldn’t sleep, but I’m fine, really. Just relax and enjoy the scenery. I know you love this part of the journey best.” Pierre was right so Charles didn’t say anything else. He was still quite tired and maybe it was better that Pierre will drive all the way to Monaco. He looked out of the window on Pierres side and took in the trees driving by in front of the sea. He does love this part of the trip. Already feeling closer to home just because he could see the sea. The same sea he grew up with. Charles thought he could already smell the salty air. Charles just sat there for a while happy with simply looking out of the window. He didn’t even realize that Pierre turned up the radio and started to sing along to the songs. While Charles was asleep, he must have turned it down, so nothing would wake him. Pierre really did know Charles best. Without him knowing Charles eyes lay on Pierre. His best friend looked comfortable. His brows were relaxed, and the blue eyes stayed fixed on the street. He took in every little stubble on Pierres chin and watched it move to form the words Pierre was singing. “What is it Calamar?” Pierres chuckle shook him out of his trance. Chares had been completely lost in his thoughts for some time now and didn’t even for how long he had been staring at Pierre. He tried to calm his speeding thoughts before answering. It was harder than he thought. “Nothing,” he squeaked. “Just enjoying the view. You said yourself that I love this part of the journey.”

[purplecatghostposts]

Pls pls pls more of the lil one off u just wrote. I'm just really curious to see Tim's (and Jay's) full reaction once Brian actually wakes up, all the questions- the feels that could be had.....oh man

Hell fucking yes, let’s continue this bad boy! (Previous Part Here!)

This ended up being a lot more of Tim and Jay talking but Brian is still very important I swear

Tags: Hospitals, Mentions of Blood and Violence, Arguments, Hurt/Comfort, Smoking, Self Deprecation, Very Minor Self Harm Via Pulling On Hair

Word Count: 2k Words.

— —

Tim made his peace with the fact that Brian was probably dead years ago.

No, that wasn’t right…

Tim accepted the fact that Brian, along with Seth and Sarah, were probably dead years ago. There was no peace to knowing this however. It haunted him— looming over him like the very same childhood monster come to life that now was tearing his life as he knew it apart. His first and best friend was probably dead and it might’ve be his fault and there was nothing he could do about it.

Now that Brian very much wasn’t dead (yet, he was losing a lot of blood still) and instead, lying in the backseat of his car unconscious, Tim was… Processing some things. A lot of things. Then when he realized how hard it was to take all of this in and drive at the same time, Tim focused on getting them to a hospital first and figuring out the rest later.

It’s a blur, really. Tim and Jay administer Brian under the claim that he was injured during a hunting accident and they accept it. More common here than most places— it’s a good lie. Tim watches them wheel Brian away with the promise that they’ll be updated as soon as they have new information. Tim and Jay find a place to sit down in the waiting room, in the corner and away from everyone else.

Then Tim can think. He can think about Jay shifting restlessly next to him and about how they fought the last time he saw him. He can think about Brian, being alive and how he’s the Hooded Guy and how that maybe means he hates him. He can think about how Brian isn’t dead but might die anyways and there’s nothing he can do but wait. He can think about trying to say something to Jay but being unable to voice any of it.

There’s a lot to consider. Tim thinks he would have a breakdown if he didn’t feel so numb.

He tries to look around and focus on something else but this time, he feels anxiety creep under his skin. Because the walls are sickeningly white and they’re closing in on him and fucking hell he hates hospitals so much.

Jay startles when he stands up, tensing immediately. Tim hates that Jay doesn’t trust him like he used to and maybe some of that is deserved. Not all of it though. Nonetheless, Tim meets his gaze steadily and says, “I need a smoke, you want to come?”

“Shouldn’t we wait?”

“We don't have to go far.” Tim points out. “And I can’t stand being in here another minute so I’m going with or without you.”

Jay hesitates, then stands with him and follows him out when Tim heads for the nearest exit. They settle by the side of the hospital, away from prying eyes. Tim fumbles for the last remaining cigarette in his pocket and feels a little tension bleed out when he takes a drag from it. It’s not much, but it’s what he has, so Tim clings to the thing that makes sense in front of him and breathes out slowly, pressing his back against the wall.

Jay’s eyes dart around but they keep coming back to him. His lip is tight, shoulders hunched, and after a couple minutes of nothing, Tim sighs. Now or never apparently.

“So,” Tim says, and Jay snaps to attention, “Where do you want to start?”

Jay doesn’t say anything for a while, but Tim can see the gears spinning in his head. He doesn’t need to clarify, Jay has been wound up like a spring the entire time. Full of questions but angry and processing, the same as Tim.

“You lied.” Jay spits out at last, and somehow, Tim knew that this would be where they would always end up. “You said no more secrets but you— you knew. You knew I was still looking for Jessica and you still didn’t say a thing! Is she even still alive?”

“She’s alive. And I didn’t tell you because I was trying to protect her.” Tim tells him, calmer than he feels. Inside it feels like a storm. Crackling full of emotions that make his throat burn but he shuts it down. Not now. If he lets this fight blow out of proportion, it’ll get physical, and that’s the last thing either of them need. He can be angry too but one of them needs to be in control and looking at him now, Tim knows it’s not gonna be Jay.

“Protect her?” Jay repeats, fury flashing in his eyes. “I’m not Alex! I’m not going to try and shoot her!”

“But Alex will and that’s why.” Tim pushes back. “All you did was ask some questions and it almost got her killed.”

“What, so it’s my fault?”

“That’s not what I said.” Tim doesn’t rise to the bait. “But this whole thing we’re doing? It gets people killed. Alex thinks she’s dead and it’s safer for her if it stays that way. Like it or not, if you set foot near her, Alex has a chance of tracking her down.”

“You could’ve told me all this! If you explained then— then I wouldn’t go near her! But you didn’t— you didn’t fucking trust me!”

Jay bares his teeth, hackles raised and waiting to strike. Ironically enough, some of the fight drains out of Tim upon seeing it. When did it become like this? When did all those months of having no one but each other wash away and bleed into bitterness?

They were close. So very close. And now Jay is ready for a fight that he expects to start and Tim still feels angry. For Jay attacking him over a tape— twice— and for the fact that Tim almost wants to punch him. Almost.

But he breathes in deeply, shoving the urge back where it won’t bother him, and he puts out the cigarette. It can’t help him like he needs now. It’s barely ever been able to help him really, but that’s another matter entirely.

Tim stands up straight and Jay shifts, a spring locked and loaded.

Tim says, “I’m sorry.” and watches as Jay visibly falters.

“I’m sorry,” Tim repeats again, just to drill it into his head, “But you’ve made some rash decisions in the past and I made the choice before I began to trust you. By the time I did, I had forgotten about it until I saw it again. I panicked— I knew what it would do to us if you found out so I tried to hide it and… You know the rest.”

Jay’s eyes search his own, squinting hard like he’s trying to find a lie or a trick. When he finds none, his shoulders go slack and Jay lets out a long breath. “Oh.” He says, no longer looking at him. His eyebrows scrunch together, deep in thought.

Tim doesn’t say anything, letting Jay figure out how he feels about that. After a long while, Jay says, “Thanks. For— apologizing.”

Tim nods. Another beat passes before Jay says, “I’m sorry I proved you right.”

Tim lets out a long huff. “I didn’t exactly put you in a good situation.”

“I pulled a knife on you.” Jay points out.

“You did.” Tim agrees. “That part was fucked up.”

“I don’t know why I did it.” Jay confesses, approaching at last and sitting up against the wall. Tim sits down beside him, watching as he rubs his eyes. “I mean— I know why. I was pissed and— I didn’t want to stab you but I wanted you to listen to me and answer all my questions and that just… Seemed like the only way to do it?

“I was just so fucking mad. It felt like you betrayed me and I couldn’t believe I fell for it again. Couldn’t believe that I always fucking fall for it.” Jay’s hands travel up to his hair, gripping onto it in a way that has to hurt. “Something is wrong with me.” He says, muffled, and his eyes squeeze shut.

Tim frowns. He knows that tone all too well. He knows exactly what’s running through Jay’s head.

Gently, he loosens Jay’s grip until it falls away from his hair and no longer hurting him. “You’re a person who needs help,” Tim murmurs to him, “Not a monster.”

Neither of them say anything for a long while. It’s fine for the most part. Peaceful. Nobody pays them any mind.

But eventually, Jay clears his throat and starts with, “So. Brian.”

Tim swallows thickly. “Brian.” He echoes.

“He’s alive.” Jay says. “And the Hooded Guy. And he saved my life and when I asked him why he said— he said that he did it because he didn’t know what else to do.”

Tim doesn’t know what to say. He rubs his eyes, trying to think. “You almost died.” Is all he can manage in the end. Then, bleakly adds, “Brian might still die.”

“He… Might.” Jay agrees weakly. “But he might not.”

Tim almost laughs. “I’ve never been that lucky.” He finds himself saying. “I just got him back and now I’m going to lose him.”

“You won’t.”

“And how do you know?”

“Because— because he’s the Hooded Guy. And he’s never gone down before so something tells me he’s not going down now.”

Jay says it with such an air of finality that Tim finds it hard to dispute it. This time, he does laugh, a breathy sort of laugh but it’s a little easier to breathe once he does. “Good point.” Tim smiles, and Jay smiles back.

The tension is gone, or at least, enough of it is that it feels like they can relax with each other. Tim rests his head on the wall behind him, shuts his eyes, and lets himself believe that everything will work itself out, one way or another.

—

Brian is stabilized. The nurses tell them that he’ll probably be out for a while since he lost a lot of blood and needs time to rest and heal.

Jay and Tim spend as much time as they can stand by his bed and the rest just around the back of the hospital, close enough to be warned but not trapped within. Though, that’s more an issue for Tim than it is for Jay, but Jay tells him that he’s not that big of a fan either.

Two days after administering Brian to the hospital, Jay and Tim are softly talking to themselves when the back door to the hospital opening causes them to look over. Immediately, both of them scramble to their feet.

Brian stands in front of them, a few feet away from the back door, and stares at them. His hospital robe has been discarded, blood-stained hoodie and jeans back on, with the only things missing being his gloves and his mask. His gaze is intense but Jay hasn’t the slightest idea what he’s thinking, as his face betrays none of it.

Then, after a long and silent standoff, Brian turns and begins to walk away from the hospital. Fortunately, with how weak he is, it’s easy enough to catch up, but Jay struggles with what to say.

“Brian?” He asks, and Brian’s face twitches in a way that feels uncomfortable. “Brian, you can’t just— you were hospitalized for a reason! You have to go back!”

Brian finally stops, spinning around to face Jay. Jay almost steps back from the weight of his gaze but stands his ground the best that he can.

“A hospital,” Brian says, voice rough, “Is the first place Alex will look. You’re lucky he didn’t find any of us here.”

“He can’t— he won’t shoot any of us in public!” Jay protests.

“No.” Brian agrees. “But he can wait until we leave, tail us wherever we go, and kill us there.”

Jay’s mouth snaps shut. Brian turns away again but Tim catches his wrist before he can move and causes his whole body to still. Brian looks back and Tim doesn’t so much as blink twice. He’s focused, unrelenting, and doesn’t leave any room for an argument.

“We,” Tim says, “are going to book a hotel room, sit down, and talk.” His gaze hardens. “You owe us answers.”

Brian says nothing, not even to defend himself. Slowly, he nods, but Tim doesn’t let go as he leads the rest of them towards his car.

“Won’t the hospital staff look for us?” Jay asks the other two as they walk, feeling eyes on him but unable to pinpoint from where.

“They won’t remember us.” Brian tells him without looking back, a certainty tone in his voice that tells Jay that he has experience in this matter. Jay can’t find it in him to dispute it.

— —

Anddd I’m gonna stop it there because it’ll take me a lot longer to write them actually having a Serious Talk with Brian bc I gotta think about what he’d tell them and what they’d ask a lot more BUT I hope this was still good!! Damn this might as well be it’s own mini series at this point.

Requests are still open so feel free to send another for a continuation or otherwise! Thank you for the ask, glad you enjoyed the first part :)

[sepublic]

2022 Halloween Timeline Error?

            All right VERY silly nitpick/trivia incoming, but.

         We know the show takes place in 2022. This is because of the calendar in Reaching Out, whose dates match the specific weekdays in the same way our year does; And in the Post-Hoot for Reaching Out (on Cissy Jones’ Instagram), it was confirmed that Dana was intentional about this date and chose it. So TOH canonically happens in 2022 (AKA a whole year after Anne leaves Amphibia for the last time, for those who are wondering).

         This ALSO means that Thanks to Them happens on October 31st, of 2022! Except…

         See, I was going to do something similar to what I did for Reaching Out, which takes place on August 22; When that date rolled around in OUR world, I timed posts pointing out across that day that this is when certain events in Reaching Out happened, and it was hypothetically occurring right now. Stuff like that. And I was planning to do the same, except!

         In my research of the episode, we see that Thanks to Them, sans the prologue and six-minute montage across two months, takes place across three days. The first day, Luz goes to school, the second she doesn’t have school and is at the clinic, the third day is when Halloween takes place; Which, we cut directly to the night of Halloween, so we don’t see if Luz had school or not. And we know the episode’s climax is on Halloween and not a lead-up event to Halloween, because of a banner that designates it as the Halloween festival, and Luz mentioning Trick-or-Treaters. 

         The problem is… October 31st in 2022 is a Monday; And while this doesn’t conflict with what we’ve seen on the third day, it DOES mess with what we see in the first day of Thanks to Them; Because it implies that Luz went to school on a Saturday, as did everyone else. That, or Halloween took place on the 30th, on a Sunday; THAT, or the writers, y’know, messed up the timeline a little.

         If we’re being totally honest, I do think the writers messed up the timeline and forgot to consider checking what day this year’s Halloween takes place on and planning around that, because… Let’s be honest, it’s such a minor and nitpicking detail. It would’ve been VERY impressive if they actually accounted for that, but all things considered, I’m not holding it against them for not doing it.

         (I bring this up because the writers DID pay attention to the corresponding weekdays to dates for Reaching Out in order to confirm its placement on August 22nd, so there is precedent for them to consider this. And before you ask, yes I checked when Halloween 2023 takes place, and that’s on a Tuesday, so it still doesn’t work out. And it was said they were trapped for months, not a whole year.)

         Of course, there is another possibility; That there’s an unmentioned day that we pass through during the events of the episode. Given how Gus mentions they plan to search Gravesfield TOMORROW on the night of the first day, then this means that if there was a ‘hidden day’ that passed by and wasn’t shown because it wasn’t relevant, it would have to be after Luz records her final diary video, and then Halloween. And yes, one would assume that Amity would want to tell Luz about the rebus ASAP, but remember; She said she had the perfect occasion in mind planned to reveal this information, so it stands to reason they waited an extra day to do so!

         In other words; If we want the timeline to still match our own year, then that means we skipped over October 30th, Sunday. So to order the timeline…

         Yesterday on Friday, October 28th, Luz went to school and had a VERY concerning breakdown in class; Her friends discovered the rebus Caleb and/or Evelyn left in the house; Belos gets run over by a car; Gus introduces Hunter to Cosmic Frontier, who reads it over night; and Luz has a heart-to-heart with her mom, who has a dream realizing what her daughter went through.

         Then today, Saturday, on October 29th; Luz’s friends search Gravesfield for clues, encounter a giraffe for the first time; Vee reunites with Masha, sort of; Luz contemplates what her palisman will be; Hunter realizes Belos is still alive (and unknowingly gets possessed by him); Him and Luz look for Belos but come up empty-handed; Amity announces her plans to dress up with Luz for Halloween; And tonight, at 11:09 pm EST, Luz records her decision to stay in the human realm.

         Then TOMORROW, Sunday, October 30th… A whole day passes in which nothing of note happens.

         And then the day after that, October 31st, Halloween on a Monday; We skip past Luz’s school day, and go directly to the night! Meaning between Luz’s video recording and the next scene, we’e skipped past nearly two whole days!

        …This is all speculative of course, and the more likely reason is that the writers didn’t consider/forgot this year’s (AKA TOH’s) Halloween takes place on a Monday. But it’s fun to make this stuff up, so nobody’s gonna stop me!

[yellowloid]

Hello! I wanted to share my experience since I saw your post about recent gig, if it's ok :) I was in Paris at the Accor Arena too, but on May 10th. It was their 3rd show in a row and for some reason I was worried that they would be tired by this point, but no!! Alex was in some kind of an upper mood, quite excited even. Yeah, somewhere between songs he said "we are (or I am) exhausted at this point, but we are so happy" or smth like that. In fact, English is not my first language, and it was difficult to understand him sometimes, and I understood some phrases only after the concert from the fan videos on Instagram lol

Btw, he spoke French quite often that day, almost more than English ahahha. He greeted us in French, constantly thanked us in French with merci, "big ideas" was also said in French, and during dsdcihmyc he shouted "chair" in French. And during Body Paint, he awkwardly touched a standing guitar with a cord and dropped it that I couldn’t stop laughing afterwards. But outro BP was something incredibly exciting, he was great, completely immersed in what he was doing. During I wanna be yours, I almost cried, he sang it so soulfully, as if mentally returning to past happy moments in his memory. Oh, and yes, we had Cornerstone. Sorry...

As for the crowd, I completely agree with you. But, even though I had sitting places, already on the second song everyone stood up and did not sit down until the very end, dancing and screaming (me in particularly). To the right and left sides of me there were cute grandfathers in earplugs (funny that there alone, like they literally came to listen to the group, not to spend time with their grandchildren), who danced more actively than me and filmed every song on the phone ahhaha, it was very nice to see them! And before the encore, the stadium was shaking with clatter and I had goosebumps all over my body, the applause did not stop for a minute until they came out again. But yes, there was clearly a revival on the hype songs from AM, and on the songs from The Car everyone calmed down a bit. Of course, this is not Glasto, but still the audience was on fire.

And there were many more moments when he sang "I am a fool for you" directly to the camera, shouted something in the middle of the songs or between them, bowled on Pretty Visitors, said some little phrases between each song, it's unforgettable. I even had a mental breakdown after the concert, like only after the gig I realized that I saw them live and that they all were REAL indeed. Alex is so tiny sweety pie, and when he was blowing kisses at the very end and smiling sincerely, it made him look like a child. I just love them all so so much. I want to go to one more concert, because it really went disastrously fast.

Best experience in my life, happy that you also had it! ❤️

how dare you do this to me while i'm still drowning in concert nostalgia sjhdggdgsg

the usual french banter was actually so wholesome at my show too <3 definitely expected him to say something more but you won't catch me complaining shfgsg. and the "LA CHAISE" moment at yours was so random and silly how did y'all not collectively eat him. also not him dropping a guitar LMAOOOO

and i absolutely agree, body paint is already such a powerful song (it's been in my top three from the car from the very first moment eheheh) but hearing it live is just so........uGH it's soso powerful and the instrumental part when he always goes to jamie and they do their thing is absolutely beautiful and intense and aaaaa <///3

ugh i'll never forgive them for not giving me cornerstone and i was very upset about that BUT i have to say i probably would've been even MORE upset if they played perfect sense because i feel like it's rarer yknow? it's much more likely for them to play cornerstone (for obvious reasons) rather than perfect sense or even star treatment (which thankfully i got sjghdgf)

also iwby.......yeah. he always looks so pensive when he sings that and i'm like who HURT you babygirl <////3

yeah about the audience it was exactly the same at my show, we were all standing up and jumping around for most of the concert (mostly am and fwn tracks) but then the majority would go dead for specific songs, mostly from the car. but you can BET i was still singing my heart out. and also YEAH can we talk about the applause at the end of the main set and after the encore???? it just didn't stop it lasted SO LONG and it was SO WELL DESERVED because they were AMAZING

i awww'ed out loud at the grandfathers that is literally so sweet. i hope they had a great time :')

i don't remember if he bowled at my show but he did raise the mic stand in the air during pretty visitors sjfhsgfgs i also think he did something similar to what you said during sias, or maybe another song i don't remember - but yeah he pointed directly at the camera and i saw it on the big screen and almost collapsed right there and then lmao. and when he kept waving goodbye and blowing kisses and smiling he was so pretty and he really looked happy to be there and i just never wanted him to get off stage :') i truly wanted that moment to last forever.

the feeling you get once you realize that you're actually seeing them/you saw them is CRAZY. like they exist! they're real and tangible and you were in the same place as them! breathing the same air! and right after it's done (it literally goes by so fast) you start missing them so much. it's almost been two weeks and i'm still so emotional and nostalgic <///3 i love them so much and i miss them terribly.

thank you for sharing your experience anon, it was a pleasure reading about it and i'm happy we both had a great time!!