#but it's fine. it's always fine. i can handle it. handled it for years on my own didn't i?

[boowritess]

i love love love the headcanon of the 141 not having kids and babies and ewey.

i think that john price is still very relevant to that. kinda. i don't really seeing him having a pet honestly. unless you wanted one... sure... but nah y'know... he's old tired af. maybe a cat. probably definitely a cat.

but it's been you and john for as long as you can remember.

happy to be in each other's presence from morning to night, or simply just exist in a shared life that means you two don't have to always be around each other.

you could be shopping and he could be sleeping. he's outside tending to the stuff he had supposed to finish before he left deployment while you're reading on the couch inside. he's on a long deployment again, and you're at work.

plus the prospect of kids just never seemed to work into the schedule. "nah," john says to one of your friends, "can handle kids fine, but when i'm home, this old mans bones are good for sleep and not much else. i mean the breeding kink can get me goi-" john grunts when you elbow into his side.

"crude." you huff with an eyeroll.

"but true." he says into his beer as he takes a sip, eyes sparking with mischief.

your friend turns to you. "but doesn't it get lonely?" they asks. "wouldn't you want a little one running around?"

and well sometimes the days may be lonely for you when he's gone...

but that's become impossibly hard to focus on when your phone is being constantly blown up - not by price though. by the 141.

it's never really anything outrages or civil conversation. it's gaz asking which tie he should wear at an event because price said the black one but gaz doesn't really like the black one. then it's johnny sending you a video of him besting his previous time on a training course. though it doesn't stop there. ghost is messaging late nights for him but mid-day for you, asking about how to deal with insomnia. ghost is asking you because he knows you're awake and the others are asleep, he doesn't want to bother them.

you answer every single one, with so much care and attentiveness. you save every picture, every video and boost about their achievements to other people as if they were your own. however, people always assume you're talking about little kids not grown ass men.

yet on days when you're at home or you've come home from work. you're hardly surprised to find one of them had invited themselves into yours and johns home as if it was their own.

sometimes it's gaz crashed out on the couch who's in a desperate need of a shower but definitely needs sleep more.

or the sounds of soap in your fridge, raking around to find something to eat. "lass, ye out of cheese-" he ate the cheese. the whole newly bought block of it.

gaz and soap like to hover around you when they're home. whereas ghost helps price around the house.

but when it's just you and ghost, the oldest boy. it's quiet. there's no forced conversations but probably a few shitty jokes. it's you or him making food and the other doing the dishes. yet ghost opens up and the conversations turn into some of the most randomist, boyish, silly conversations.

when everyone's at home, it can actually be pretty hectic. so you go do the grocery shopping, but you take ghost along cause he's a little like you in regard for a need of quiet time.

oh and can't forget the days you go out by yourself only to come home with a few other things. socks for john - socks for all of them. you bought johnny a new pair of jeans and gaz a couple of shirts. and simon some more sweaters.

christmas, easter, new years - every single holiday is always hosted at yours and price. where everyone comes. farah, alex, laswell and her wife. rudy and alejandro making their way- then of course your boys...

and it's there where you've kinda realized.

you and john do have kids.

just in the form of grown men.

which both you and john don't seem to mind.

you end up shrugging your shoulders as you look at your friend, "honestly i have my hands full when they're all home. so... i'm good." you say with a hum, sipping from your own drink with a small smile as john just chuckles softly.

a/n: realized I never posted this. oh well. the no baby saga continues with john price. drink water be well ya'll xx

[fanfic-writer-and-rambler]

Barbara's batfamily assuming she just stopped having "fun" after being in a wheelchair. Barbara: Thanks for meeting me, tonight Kenny. Kenny (her date): I'm glad you took me up on my offer for a date. Barbara: You gave me a many good reasons to say yes. Barbara's phone rings, she glances at it quickly then declines the call. Barbara: Sorry, my boss. Always interrupting my personal time. Kenny (sincerly): No problem. My boss has been putting a lot on my plate. Barbara giggled, putting her phone on silent. Barbara: How about we make a pact to forget about work for the night? Kenny: Sounds like a plan, what would you like to know about me? I'm an open book. Barbara: Hm, let's see- Barbara spots three men watching her from afar then quickly hiding behind menuts. Barbara: I will be back, have to handle my three dumbasses. Kenny: Oh your friends are here? It's cool, take your time.

Barbara rolled over to the table, seeing Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, and Tim Drake.

Barbara: Why are you bothering me on my date? Jason (lowering his menu): We... were out to eat. Barbara: Try again. Dick: Patrol for another case. Barbara: Tim, talk. Tim: We don't trust Kenny and would rather you not get hurt. Barbara: Do you think I stopped dating when I got paralyzed? Oh my God, you did. Jason: Dick did, he said you were becoming a lonely spinster. Dick glares at Jason, but holds his head down when Barbara glares at him. Barbara (annoyed): Wasn't what he said five years ago. Barbara smacks the man on the back of his head. Barbara: Look, the concern is sweet, but annoying. I'm not some damsel or always alone. I will be fine tonight and need this date because staring at a computer screen all day is not helping my libido. Tim (grossed out): We could've done without that last part. Barbara: Don't stalk me on my date then. If anything happens, I carry a taser and my comm. Dick, if you do this again I can will my legs to kick you in your dick. Dick (covering his face with his menu): Got it. Barbara rolled back to her table while humming happily. Jason: Can we order something at least. Dick stands up and drags Tim out, Tim grabs Jason and they all leave. Kenny (to Barbara): Handled it? Barbara: Yeah, my friends were- this might sound weird, but- Kenny: Barb, it's fine. They care about you. I like that you have a good relationship with all of them. Barbara: And you're already winning me over. Kenny: Cool. Barbara laughed making Kenny smile then they continued talking until the waitress took their orders.

[drdemonprince]

hey, so this is super random and I’m not sure if you have thought about this but figured I’d ask: (came to my mind after reading your story in *unmasking* about intervening in street harassment)

I’m audhd and it really affects my sensory processing, social/ situational awareness etc since it’s hard for me to discern which stimuli are important in any given situation. I’m also realizing that I never really feel unsafe as a single woman in a dense city environment, even when my friends feel unsafe. Makes it hard to trust my own intuition about that kinda stuff since everyone I know apart from myself has that experience.

Question is, do you happen to have any info/ best practices about situational awareness and judging the danger of potentially sketchy situations? Walking around the city at night, creepy rural gas station, online hookup, greyhound bus alone etc.

Everything online says “trust your intuition” but my intuition always says “ehh it’ll be fine” lol.

The truth is, it usually WILL be fine. Most people's *~magical crime and danger intuition~* is a combination of true crime slop, inaccurate media coverage of the crime rate inflating their anxieties, and classism and racism. The vast majority of crimes are not committed by random strangers lurking in the dark, but between individuals who know one another and in circumstances that are at least somewhat explicable, and so you do not need magic empath powers to determine if you will be safe somewhere or not.

The way you keep relatively safe is by informing yourself of the facts, not the hype -- look up the actual crime statistics for your area, for example, though be highly skeptical of them. These figures are collected by the police state and we cannot trust them to define what safety or unsafety even IS, as they are the source of the danger for the majority of us. What they classify as crime and where they bother to enforce crime is highly skewed, and itself can create massive misapprehensions. So make sure to also speak with people in the communities you are visiting about what happens to them and the general vibe. Also spend a lot of time out in your community yourself, observing things, talking to people, hanging out, maybe volunteering, and learning the lay of the land. You'll have more people around to help you if you ever need it, and you'll find more occasions where your help is needed, too!

Follow some basic, common sense advice to avoid making oneself especially vulnerable, but don't over-isolate yourself. Things like keeping one earbud out of your ear when walking home alone at night and not keeping a purse open on the train are always sensible maneuvers; carrying pepper spray or a gun that will more likely be used to harm you is not. Learn how to de-escalate people if you don't already know -- acting calm, making your posture non-threatening but confident, moving slowly and predictably, avoiding provocative eye contact, changing the subject of conversation, engaging a victim of harassment and pretending to know them in order to drag them away from a bad situation, etc. These things will be helpful to you if a situation arises, and the more prepared you feel, the less anxious you ever have to be.

Honestly, moving through the world with a "this feels fine / seems fine" energy is ITSELF massively protective. I have ALWAYS walked around alone at night, even when I was a small 18 year old "girl," including in areas where the majority of women of my then-demographic would have not felt "safe" going out on their own. By and large, I was completely fine. People really don't want to mess with you if you seem like you have a handle on your shit and are not afraid of them.

The worst that ever happened to me was a guy grabbing my tit -- in broad daylight on a sunday on a train packed full of people. It really couldn't have been avoided. And a guy flashing me -- again in midday in a family oriented neighborhood many would deem safe. I survived these things, and I defended myself by getting aggressive with the guys who did them, and physically attacking them, which scared them off. I'm glad I did what I did, and I'm glad I wasn't so intimidated by the possibility of scary stranger danger that I kept myself sequestered away.

The few other times anyone made me uncomfortable, it was things like leering comments or walking alongside me for a block, hitting on me (sometimes, yes, late at night), but because I was able to be assertive, unbothered, and stand my ground, the guys always gave up or were scared off (by me). And this reaction from me is one I largely credit to having no instinctual "stranger danger" crime intuition of the sort most white women are conditioned to have.

In short, I think your instincts might be more accurate to reality than your friends' are. It's good to look around and pay attention to things, to learn to recognize patterns, to study one's area, to speak to people in your community and know what's going on, and to prepare oneself for hard situations, which WILL happen to you sometimes no matter what you do. but the world is rarely as scary as it's made out to be.

[vmpivory]

UNSCRiPTED ── yang jungwon

★ ——  ‎𝓲N WHICH `⠀◌  rivals l/n y/n and yang jungwon are cast as romantic leads in their school play. with no chemistry and lots of arguing, their teacher suggests fake dating. as they spend more time together, they start to wonder if their feelings are real or just for the play.

✶ - 𝓰𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲 : rivals to lovers , fake dating , fluff , comfort (?) ✶ - 𝓹𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 : yang jungwon x fem reader ✶ - 𝓯𝗲𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 : minji and hyein ✶ - 𝔀𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝓬𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 : 2.7k

꒰ ⠀ !  ꒱ . .⠀ 𝔀ARNINGS vulgar language (only used 2-3 times), skinship in some scenes, arguments, bad attempt at humor ( lmk if there are more! ) ..

❪ reblogs and feedback are always appreciated! <3 ❫

L/N Y/N STOOD frozen in front of the cast list, eyes narrowing as she scanned it for the third time.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” she muttered under her breath.

Beside her, a voice snickered. "What’s the matter, y/n? Can't handle the pressure?"

She didn’t need to look to know who it was. The familiar annoying tone belonged to none other than Yang Jungwon, her rival in almost everything. Of course, she would get to play romantic leads with him.

Y/N whipped her head around, glaring at him. "You have to be joking. There’s no way we’re playing the romantic leads. That has to be a mistake."

Jungwon shrugged casually, his lips curving into an annoying smile. "I don’t know. Looks pretty official to me."

"PARK Y/N, YANG Jungwon—my star-crossed lovers! How do you feel about your roles and the script?" Ms. Choi’s smile was wide, far too pleased with herself.

Y/N’s mouth opened, but no words came out. Jungwon, ever the smooth talker, crossed his arms over his chest and fake smiled. "Oh we love it!" Y/N rolled her eyes and elbowed him before answering, "Ma'am there must be a mistake because I really can't pretend I love him. Please, can you change the roles? I'm sure someone else would love to be the male lead." "Hey, if you don't like it why don't you give up your role! I'm staying as the male lead and your role is gonna get changed." Ms. Choi raised an eyebrow, glancing between the two of them. "Now, now, there's no mistake. You two are perfect for the roles." "Ms. Choi, with all due respect, we have zero chemistry. And this script... it's all about chemistry." Jungwon snorted. "Yeah, negative chemistry. Like me and math." "Well, if we were a science experiment, we’d definitely be a total failure." She rolled her eyes. Ms. Choi chuckled, clearly unbothered by their protests. "Ah, but that's the beauty of acting, my dears. Chemistry can be built, just like any good relationship."

Y/N shot Jungwon a death glare. "There's no way I can 'build chemistry' with him." "You guys, look. I had this same situation two years ago. The main leads couldn't even stay in the same room with each other but you know what they did? Fake dating. It helped a lot and the play was amazing. I suggest you two give it a try." Y/N’s eyes widened. "Fake dating? Are you serious?"

Ms. Choi nodded enthusiastically. "Absolutely. It’s a proven method. It’ll help you both get into character and build that on-stage chemistry." Jungwon raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued despite himself. "You think that’ll actually work?" Ms. Choi just nodded with a smile.

Y/N groaned, crossing her arms. "This is ridiculous. But fine, if it means we can avoid turning this play into a disaster, I’ll do it." Jungwon’s smirk turned into a genuine smile. "Great. Looks like you're now.. my fake girlfriend." Y/N glared at him, feeling the familiar spark of rivalry flare up. "Don't think this means I’m going easy on you. I’ll be the best fake girlfriend you’ve ever had. And probably you ever will." As Ms. Choi walked away before smiling, Jungwon turned to y/n with a grin. "Guess we better get used to it. You ready for our first 'date,' sweetheart?"

"Don't push your luck, Yang Jungwon."

Y/N FIDGETED WITH the edge of her jacket as she walked into the small café at the corner of their neighborhood. It wasn’t exactly a romantic spot, more of a hangout place for high schoolers trying to avoid homework. But here she was, on her first fake date with Yang Jungwon, of all people.

Jungwon was already seated at a booth near the window, scrolling through his phone as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He looked up when he noticed her standing awkwardly at the entrance, smirking as he waved her over.

"Right on time, girlfriend," he teased as she sat down, emphasizing the last word in a way that annoyed y/n. She plastered on a fake smile. "Let’s just get this over with. What’s the plan?"

Jungwon shrugged, leaning back in his seat with that same annoyingly calm attitude. "We’re supposed to build chemistry, right? Let’s just act natural. Pretend like we actually, you know, like each other."

Y/N scoffed. "Like that’s even possible."

"Hey, it’s called acting for a reason." "My acting skills are not good enough to pretend I like you." She rolled her eyes. Jungwon grinned, leaning forward on the table. "Come on, it can’t be that hard. I’m pretty likable when you try."

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "Really? I must’ve missed that version of you." He chuckled, completely unbothered by her sarcasm. "Alright, if pretending to like me is nearly impossible for you, let's start with something easier. Like having a normal conversation. Without insults." "Impossible." "I'm starting to think you are not that good at acting." "Okay fine," She sighed in frustration. "I'll try to be less insulting." Jungwon leaned back in his seat, folding his arms. "Now that’s progress. See? We’re already improving."

Y/N shot him a pointed glare. "Don't get too comfortable. This is for the play, not for you. Plus, this play is super important for me." He raised an eyebrow. "I wanted auditioned for an acting agency and they will be watching the play to decide if I'm good enough or not. So I'm gonna be blaming you if I don't pass." Jungwon’s smirk faltered slightly as he processed her words. "Wait, you’re serious? You’re auditioning for an agency?"

Y/N nodded, her expression firm. "Yeah. I’ve wanted this for a long time. This play is my chance to prove I can actually do this, and I can’t afford to mess it up. So, if you screw this up for me, I swear—" Jungwon raised his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, relax. I know we clash, but I genuinely want you to succeed too. This isn’t just about me." She blinked, surprised at his sincerity. "You better." Jungwon leaned forward, his expression getting serious. "Look, I know we don't really get along. But this play is important is important for both of us, especially you. I'm not trying to mess up your chances. In fact, I hope you get accepted." Y/N frowned, unsure of how to response to his unexpected support. "Why are you being suddenly so.. nice?" "Hey, I have a heart too."

"SO," JUNGWON STARTED, breaking the silence as they walked side by side to home, "We survived our first fake date. Not too bad, right?"

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. "Speak for yourself."

He chuckled. "Ouch. Harsh but fair."

They continued walking in the silence, not having any eye contact.

As they approached a fork in the path where their ways would divide, Jungwon cleared his throat awkwardly. "So, I guess I’ll see you at rehearsal?"

Y/N nodded, feeling a pang of disappointment that the evening was coming to an end. "Yeah. Rehearsal, right."

With a nod, Jungwon turned around and started walking the other way, down the street. 

Maybe pretending to be Jungwon's girlfriend wasn't so bad.

She shook her head, trying to clear it. "What am I thinking?" she muttered to herself, quickening her pace home.

Y/N TRIED TO focus on her lines, but her mind kept wandering back to Jungwon. He was across the stage, laughing with some of the other cast members, looking so effortlessly charming.

"Earth to y/n!" Minji, her friend and fellow cast member, waved a hand in front of her face. "You good?"

Y/N blinked, snapping back to reality. "Yeah, totally. Just... lost in thought."

"About Jungwon?" Minji teased, nudging her playfully.

Y/N shot her a look. "I mean, we’re just... acting. It’s complicated. It feels like I should hate him, but deep down, it’s not that simple."

"CUT!" MS. CHOI called out. "Jungwon and y/n," She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose before continuing. "I still don't see the chemistry. This is our 7th try!"

Y/N shot Jungwon a look, half-exasperated and half-amused. “Sorry, Ms. Choi. We’re really working on it.”

Jungwon leaned closer, whispering just loud enough for y/n to hear. “Maybe we should try to actually like each other for a moment?” She rolled her eyes but felt a smile creeping in despite herself. “Yeah, because that’s so easy right?” “Okay, everyone, let’s take five,” Ms. Choi announced, her tone softer now. “Grab some water and reset your minds.” As the cast split up, y/n turned to Jungwon, crossing her arms. "Can you at least try a bit more? This is important for me, you know!" "I know, I know. I'm trying my best but you should too." Y/N snorted. "I'm already giving my best!" "You are clearly not!" Jungwon shot back. "Maybe if you tried to hide your face expressions, it would be better!" "Or maybe, you are not good at acting as you think you are!" She paused, the air thick with tension. “What did you just say?” Y/N demanded, her voice low. Jungwon took a step back, realizing he had crossed a line. "I meant—" "No, you don’t get to take it back now," Y/N interrupted, her heart pounding. "You think I’m not trying hard enough? I’ve been working my ass off for this role! You know this is important to me!" "Maybe if you weren’t so wrapped up in your own expectations, you’d see that it’s not all on me!" Jungwon shot back. "This isn’t just about you, y/n!" “Alright, let's start again!” Ms. Choi called, her voice cutting through the thick tension in the air. Their five minute break was wasted in a stupid argument, great. Y/N and Jungwon took their positions. “Why can’t you just trust me?” Jungwon said, following the script. “Trust? You’re the last person I’d trust!” Ms. Choi watched intently, a satisfied smile spreading across her face. “Yes! Keep that energy!” She mumbled to herself. For a moment, it felt like they were really connecting. Y/N could see the flicker of something genuine in Jungwon’s expression, and she felt herself relaxing into the performance. But then, as the scene reached its climax, the lines began to blur between acting and reality. “Maybe if you weren’t so self-absorbed, you’d see what’s really happening!” Jungwon snapped, his tone rising, the frustration from their earlier argument spilling over. Y/N's eyes widened slightly. What the hell was he thinking? That was not in the script. She didn't know why and how but she also got out of her character. "Self-absorbed? Says the one with a big fat ego!" Jungwon’s eyes flashed with annoyance, and he took a step closer, his voice lowering dangerously. "You think I have a big ego? You’re so focused on your own expectations that you’re missing the bigger picture—we both want this to succeed." Y/N's heart pounded as the tension between them mounted. This wasn’t acting anymore. Their real feelings—the frustration, the rivalry—were bleeding into the scene. Y/N’s hands clenched at her sides, and for a moment, she forgot they were on stage, with everyone’s eyes on them. "Oh, I’m the one acting like that? Maybe if you weren’t so busy pretending to be cool all the time, you’d realize you're not the center of the universe either!" Jungwon scoffed, taking another step forward, closing the gap between them. "Pretending? I’m not pretending anyt—" “Enough!” Ms. Choi’s voice rang out, breaking the intensity of the moment. She stood up from her chair, clapping slowly, her expression a mixture of amusement and disbelief.

Y/N STARED AT her reflection in the mirror backstage, adjusting her costume for the big ballroom scene. She smoothed down the soft fabric of her dress, trying to calm her racing heart. Tonight was the first full rehearsal with the whole cast, and everything needed to be perfect. The play was tomorrow and this was her chance to prove herself.

But as usual, her mind drifted back to Jungwon.

After the little argument, they went on a few fake dates again. But their chemistry didn't seem to be there, let alone improve. 

"Why do you look so stressed?" Hyein asked, popping her head around the corner. "It’s just rehearsal."

"I know, I know but.. I don't think I'm gonna do well," Y/N sighed, rubbing her temples as the nerves crept in again. "I just feel like something's off. And if I mess this up, I’ll probably never get the chance to be a real actress again."

Hyein stepped into the dressing room, offering her a reassuring smile. "You’ve been doing great so far. Everyone's seen how much effort you've put into this role. You’ll be fine."

Y/N forced a smile but still felt the unease bubbling under the surface. "Thanks, but it’s not just the play. It’s Jungwon."

Hyein raised an eyebrow. "What about him?"

"Since the little argument... nothing’s been the same. We’ve gone on these fake dates, just like Ms. Choi suggested, but it’s not helping. If anything, it’s made everything more awkward. We can barely look at each other without the tension ruining the scene. And—"

"Hey," a familiar voice called out, making them both look away. "Can we talk?"

It was Jungwon.

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat as Jungwon stood at the doorway, his expression unreadable. Hyein glanced between them, giving y/n a knowing look before excusing herself.

Y/N shifted uncomfortably, trying to hide the whirlwind of emotions that surfaced whenever Jungwon was around. "What is it?" she asked, her voice a little sharper than she intended.

Jungwon stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. "I just... I wanted to talk before we go out there. This is the last rehearsal you know, it's important." Y/N crossed her arms, feeling the tension immediately creep back in. "About what? If you're gonna tell me I'm not good at acting again, no thank you."

He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck—a gesture she’d come to recognize as his way of stalling. "Look, I know we don't really get along and you hate me, I hate you.."

She nodded slightly as he continued.

"..and I know we’re supposed to be faking this whole... 'dating' thing for the play, but I think that’s the problem. We are forcing it a little too much. Just... think of me as the guy you like or something, okay?"

Y/N blinked, her heart racing at Jungwon’s unexpected suggestion. "You mean, just act like we actually really really like each other? You think that's easy?"

"Hey, you're a good actress. You said it yourself." He smiled and chuckled faintly before leaving the dressing room.

Y/N AND JUNGWON stood under a starlit sky, the backdrop of a cozy rooftop terrace adorned with fairy lights and soft cushions. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves, creating a serene atmosphere for their characters.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Y/N’s character, Liv, gazed out over the city, her voice a soft whisper. “Sometimes, I forget how lovely the world can be.”

Jungwon, playing the charming yet mysterious Johnny, stepped closer. “It is,” he replied, his tone warm. “But it’s even more beautiful when shared with someone special.” Y/N turned to him, her heart racing. "Someone special, huh? You mean like a star-crossed lover?"

"Exactly," Jungwon said, a playful glint in his eyes. "Someone who makes the ordinary feel extraordinary."

"Do you really believe in love like that?” Y/N asked, tilting her head as she searched his face for answers. "What if that star is too far away to reach?" Jungwon took her hands, his gaze intense. “Then I’ll climb every mountain, cross every ocean, and travel the whole universe just to be with that star. Which is you.” "Me?" Without breaking character, Jungwon closed the distance between them, pressing his lips against hers. He was still holding her hand, gently squeezing it. Despite her irritation, a flutter of excitement raced through her as their lips met, leaving her speechless. As they broke apart, the audience erupted in applause. The curtains closed, signaling the end of the play.

"WHAT THE HELL Jungwon?! That was not in the script!"

Jungwon chuckled softly, shaking his head. "I know, dumbass. I did it on purpose."

“On purpose? Are you trying to ruin everything?” Y/N crossed her arms, torn between annoyance and the thrill of what had just happened.

“Come on, Y/N! We’re supposed to sell the romance. That kiss? It was the spark the audience needed! Don't tell me you didn't enjoy it!” Jungwon leaned closer, grinning.

Y/N's expression softened, a soft smile lighting up in her face. "Yeah, I guess I did."

.vmpivory    ©    all rights reserved    ━    2024

AUTHOR's NOTE i've been thinking about this for a while now and i am so excited that finally wrote this !! this is my first work on here so i hope ygs enjoyed it ! so like.. this sucks. but i tried my best TT and yes, i named the girl liv ( WHICH IS ME ) bc i'm delulu like that eheh :D

PERM TAGLiST: @wonsprincess

[callalillywrites]

Shooting His Shot Part 2

Here is the conclusion of Shooting His Shot, and I really hope you enjoy this little AU as much as I had in writing it.

Please let me know what you think and if you might want to see more of this universe with the other characters featured here. Seriously, it wouldn't take much to convince to create more. Also, would love some suggestions on a good name for this AU if you've got any.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Other notable characters: Bucky Barnes, Jake Jensen, Sam Wilson, Ari Levinson, Natasha Romanoff, Peter Parker, and honorably mentioned Curtis Everett

Word Count: 3880

Summary: Steve owns a steakhouse that you used to frequent before your ex came into the picture. Now, your ex is gone, and you're ready to head back to the one place you've always felt welcome and wanted. What neither you nor Steve count on is his staff, led by Bucky, launching a full-one assault effort to get you two together. It's time the two of you realize your feelings for one another.

Warnings: abusive ex (Reader's), pining, so much pining, fluff, two ridiculous idiots in love, a whole bunch of matchmakers

A/N: This is a completely self-indulgent story made like one of those cheesy rom-com which is my bread and butter at this point. It's proofread, but any mistakes are my own.

I also do not give permission for my work to be copied or posted on other sites or fed into an AI machine.

*****

Coming into the room, Steve can’t help taking in the changes himself.

How they managed to clear out the old office and transform it into a decent private dining area is amazing. The amount of time should’ve been far greater than the natural lull between lunch and dinner service. Yet, his staff somehow pulled it off.

“Nick work,” he murmurs as he passes Jake and Peter on his way to the small table.

His words are enough to puff up both their chests and bring pleased grins.

They barely wait long enough for you and him to sit before they approach the table once more. In seconds, they have his and your drink orders before hurrying off.

“I hope they aren’t neglecting their other tables,” he can’t help mumbling though he knows them well enough.

Peter’s been so grateful for the promotion and has been working hard to prove himself. As much as Steve and Sam have continued to praise Peter and his skills, it doesn’t seem to have sunk in yet with the younger man. They’re not giving up as they’re sure he’ll eventually get there and realize they aren’t messing with him.

As for Jake, Steve’s never really had reason for concern. Jake can be a bit awkward, especially around the prettier clientele, but he’s always maintained his professionalism. That awkwardness has even worked in Jake’s favor a time or two from what Steve can tell. He’s certainly drawn in a few of their regulars between his professionalism and his natural ability to put others at ease.

Without Jake, Steve’s not so sure he would’ve met you or had you coming back.

Little does he know that it’s his kindness and his own awkward shyness that made you a regular.

“I have no doubt they’re handling them just fine. Sam and Nat would never let them live it down if they weren’t. You have a good team here.”

Hearing your praise, Steve can’t help but exhale a little. While he knows how good his team is, it’s nice to hear you defend them. Your opinion matters. Maybe more than it should, but then, you matter to him. Since that first day you walked in, you’ve mattered.

Not that he’s ever let himself show you for fear you might not be interested.

It’s why he’s let so many years of silence sit between you when he might’ve taken a chance. Sure, he can blame it on his honor of not hitting on customers. Then again, you haven’t really been considered a customer by him or his staff for the longest time now.

When you brought Brock into the steakhouse almost a year ago, Steve believed he lost his chance. The way you looked at Brock was the same look of love and adoration Steve wanted for himself. He couldn’t help disliking the guy though he’d done his best to remain professional while you and Brock dined.

You only came a few more weeks after that first dinner with Brock before you stopped.

At each of those meals, Steve couldn’t help noting how you said less and less. Your bright friendliness and warmth dimmed more and more though you never stopped being nice to the staff. It didn’t take a genius to see the cause of those changes within you.

Brock.

He’d grown more brash and rude after that first meal. No matter how much you tried to intervene and beg him to stop, Brock not only didn’t listen, but he tried to verbally annihilate you.

It was during that last meal that Steve had had enough. Not only had it been clear that Brock had taken away your confidence and your happiness, but he’d also taken away your ability to fight for yourself.

When you’d gone to the bathroom, Steve had stepped up to the table and asked Brock never to return to his steakhouse. He also made it known that such behavior towards his staff and towards you were not only unwanted but punishable.

As much as Steve wanted to deck Brock, it was one of the only times he’d kept calm. Because of you, he didn’t do what he’d done in the past. Brock got to walk away with his nose intact and his skin unblemished. There was a promise that if Brock ever returned, consequences would follow.  

What Steve hadn’t counted on was not seeing you again until all these months later.

Glancing at you across the table, he can see your quiet confidence and bubbliness has come back. The dark cloud looming over you is nowhere to be found. It makes him happy to see you hadn’t let Brock keep you down. That would be the real shame.

“Do I have something on my face or something?” you ask, breaking the brief silence.

Steve shakes himself before shaking his head. “No, you’re perfect, bijou.”

Butterflies erupt when you beam at him.

*****

Jake and Peter return with your drinks and a sampler platter that you didn’t order.

“Ari made you a fresh mocktail since Sam swept you away before you could finish the other one,” Jake says with a small wink, setting your drink in front of you. At least some of your training on flirting hasn’t left him since your absence. “Said not to worry about it, either. It’s on Sam.”

“Bucky also sent us out with this platter. Said he wanted your thoughts on a few new items he’s been considering for the menu.” This came from Peter who set the platter carefully next to the tiny vase of flowers. The platter contains several different foods from cheese sticks and poppers to some tiny ribs and wings.

You’re quite impressed by it all, yet you can’t help saying, “This all looks so wonderful, but I really hope you’re not going through a lot of trouble just for me.”

“No trouble, future Boss Lady.”

You hear Steve choke on the drink Jake just gave him though he recovers quickly enough.

“We’ll be back soon with your order,” Peter says, giving Jake an exasperated look. He shoves Jake from the room, muttering words too low for you to make out.

Neither notice when you call after them, “But we haven’t ordered yet.”

When they don’t come back, you turn to Steve with what has to be a comical expression as you ask, “Future Boss Lady? The free drink, the hugs, and everything I’ve gotten since I walked in. Are they…”

You pause in the hopes of Steve finishing the thought for you.

He sets his hand on the table, palm up and open in invitation.

There is no hesitation when you place your hand in his, relishing the warmth and the soft callouses that line his fingertips. Working man’s hands as your father used to call them. You have never appreciated the feel of another’s hand until that moment.

The soft smile you’ve grown to love over all the years you’ve known him peeks out as he finishes your question, “Trying to woo you for me? Yeah, I think they are. Well, that and they have genuinely missed you these last six months.”

That has your attention.

The answer isn’t something you expect because you’re still so sure that Steve isn’t interested in you. As if to prove your previous belief correct, you ask, “What about you? Did you miss me?”

A part of you wonders if he’ll even answer the question. You’ve never really been so straightforward with him before. This changes the little dance you two have done since that first meeting a few years back. You’re not even sure you’re ready to hear his answer.

Not that you’ve given yourself a choice.

He doesn’t keep you waiting long. His thumb runs over yours while his gaze meets yours. His voice is low, conspiratorial as he admits, “Mon bijou, the last 187 days have been the longest of my life.”

You suck in a breath as his words wash over you. It’s the first time he’s ever added ‘my’ to his nickname for you. Before, you were always ‘jewel’ and you liked it, but this is something else. It gives you the courage to press for more.  

“You’ve counted the days since my last time here?”

Pink tinges his cheeks while his other hand comes up to rub at his neck. Despite the embarrassment of his confession, he doesn’t seem all that upset about having admitted it. In fact, he nods.

An almost hysterical type of giggle escapes as you admit, “I counted them, too.”

New tears, happy ones, burn at your lash line and threaten to spill over.

His hand tightens on yours. “Please, don’t cry.”

“I’m not,” you say though your conviction is shaky to say the least. “So, if I were to ask you to join me for an art show next week, you would…”

“Love to go,” he finishes without hesitation.

“Ugh, Mr. Rogers, you’re supposed to ask her out, not the other way around,” Peter grouses from the doorway before Jake can cover his mouth.

The two grapple for a few seconds, earning them a raised brow from both you and Steve.

“Apologies, Boss Man,” Jake finally manages when he’s got Peter in a loose chokehold, his hand firmly over Peter’s mouth, “but he’s not necessarily wrong. Smooth finish though. Mentally noting that with all the training future Boss Lady’s given me.”

You turn your face away before your laughter escapes you. To help, you even cover your mouth to keep the giggles in. It’s taking all your ability to keep yourself from just losing it in the moment. Your love for this group of people is overflowing with how much they aren’t subtly trying to help you and Steve out.

When you finally regain your composure, you meet Steve’s equally amused expression as he asks, “Did you two need something? Forget something perhaps? What about your other tables?”

“Checked them. All good, Mr. Rogers. We did forget to take your orders earlier, but Mr. Barnes says he’s got it handled.”

“Of course, he does. Thank you, Peter. Why don’t you and Jake head back to your stations?” His gaze softens the longer he looks at you. “I think we’ll be okay here for a bit.”  

Heat suffuses your cheeks, but you nod, happy to have more time with Steve alone.

Peter and Jake hasten back to their stations, content they’ve done their parts for the moment. You can see their happiness in the way they smile at you before disappearing down the hall. Jake even sends you a pair of thumbs up and a wink.

“I apologize for them.”

You shake your head. “Oh, please, don’t. It’s nice they care so much about you. You’re a good boss. Maybe even the best out there from what I’ve learned over the years.”

“What have you learned?” He arches a brow as he leans forward. His hand still holds yours on the table; his thumb has taken to rubbing a steady path across yours.

With a sip of your new favorite mocktail, you offer him a smile before diving in. “Well, I know that you and Bucky have made it so everyone starts at a living wage. From your dishwashers to your managers and even yourselves, you pay each and every employee enough to live without having to necessarily fear paying their bills each month. I also know that you and Bucky aren’t greedy with your earnings, either. You two are never making more than five times what your lowest earners make. You’ve even lived on zero salaries during some of the leaner years, so you could keep all your employees.”

Rather than the challenge he’d given you earlier with one raised brow, both are now touching his hairline as you reveal all you know.

But you’re not done yet.

“You’re also generous with paid time off and sick days compared to almost any employer out there. While you do occasionally ask your employees to help cover each other, you don’t guilt them or make them feel bad if they can’t cover. You’re not above rolling up your sleeves and stepping in when necessary. Hard work doesn’t scare you from bussing tables to managing customer complaints. I don’t think anyone out there has a negative thing to say about you or Bucky. You have their respect and their devotion. It’s why your restaurant has the lowest turnover rate in the city.”

You take another sip of your mocktail, needing a moment to catch your breath.

“So many companies tout the whole idea of their employees being family to them, but they’re empty words. Used as a manipulation technique. That’s not the case here. You and Bucky really have created a family here. You celebrate your employees’ victories and help them through tough times. You care about them and their lives outside the restaurant. It’s not because you want to pull more work out of them, but because you actually care about their well-being. Do you know how rare and precious that is? Is it really any wonder that I have had the biggest crush on you since forever?”

It takes less than a second for you to realize what you’ve admitted.

Now, you just need the floor to open and swallow you whole.

*****

Steve’s heart leaps at your last few words.

You have a crush on him.

That’s something he thought not possible despite his ever-deepening feelings for you over the years.

Yet, that’s nothing compared to how much you’ve learned about him and the steakhouse. He’s not sure how you came by all this information, but he’s certain he doesn’t care. The fact that it’s enough to impress you with all he’s firmly believed in doing for his staff makes it that much easier to fall for you even harder.

“You really noticed all that?”

You nod, your gaze lowering to where he’s still holding your hand. “Yeah, mostly from Jake and Nat, but also reading what are supposed to be puff pieces about the place. I think I might be a little invested in the success of this place.”

He tightens his hold on your hand, needing to know you aren’t some figment of his imagination. No other woman he’s ever met or been interested in has ever been so deeply sincere as you’re being with him now. They certainly hadn’t cared about the vision he and Bucky had for their restaurant so much as what they could get out of it for themselves. You care about his staff almost as much as he and Bucky do, and he can’t help loving you even more for it.

“I know I should’ve done this ages ago,” he swallows, then pushes on, “but do you think you might have dinner with me?”

Your gaze bounces to his before you motion toward the table and the appetizer that’s still sitting between you.

He chuckles. “Not this dinner. I mean a real one. I pick you up, hold the door open for you, and woo you properly. No assistance or machinations from others. Say, Monday night?”

“If I say yes, does that mean this one has to end? I’ve really, really been looking forward to one of Bucky’s creations and seeing everyone here, especially you.”

“Nah, I don’t want this one to end, either. Besides, it looks like the others have gone to a lot of trouble to make this happen. Don’t want to let their hard work go to waste.”

That earns him a beaming smile, and he’s more than ready to make it happen as often as he can.

“We should probably eat this before it gets cold.”

Nodding, you pick up one of the cheese sticks and take a bite while he chooses one of the poppers.

Both of you have to bite back moans, but the food is worth every bit of praise that’s sure to pass through both your lips before the night is over.

Talk soon turns towards the food and how good it is. You even offer Steve a sip of Ari’s latest concoction since he hasn’t been allowed to try it until your return. He finds it delicious though maybe not as much as you do. Every sip you take, he notes the little happy wiggle you do. It’s another thing he’s missed seeing these last six months.

Your enjoyment of the food and drinks the steakhouse offers is nothing short of wondrous to watch. None of it is faked to spare hurt feelings. The rare occasions you don’t like something, you share your thoughts with great care, couching your criticisms with plenty of positive feedback and constructive notes.

When the food is gone, Steve glances to find you biting your lip before you seem to come to a decision. Your gaze meets his as you say, “I, uh, I know this is one of your usual nights off. As are Mondays. Can I ask why you’re here really? Is it really to catch up on paperwork and handle payroll? Seems like those would be handled as necessary during the few hours between lunch and dinner.”

Steve blows out a breath.

He wonders how long you’ve been holding onto that information and which of his staff might’ve revealed this little tidbit to you.

Knowing you’ve revealed something deeply held, it’s only fair he does the same. If he wants to prove he’s all in, then he needs to step up and do it.

Another breath, he admits softly, “This is the day you usually make a reservation. Your early victory for surviving another week. Has been since the day you graduated with honors from university. So, it’s become a tradition for you to come each week. Your chance to spoil yourself. Since meeting you, mon bijou, I’ve found myself not wanting to miss an opportunity to see you again. Even if it’s in snatches on Thursdays, I’ll take it. You’re the greatest highlight of my week.”

Your eyes widen at his confession, but then, he’s certain he did the same with yours.

Though, you seem to recover quick enough as you ask, “Does this mean we’ve been pining for each other this entire time? Are we really those idiots in love you see in those Hallmark movies?”

Steve chuckles and nods. “I think we might be.”

“Oh, you most definitely are, but we love you both anyway,” Nat says from the doorway, her signature smirk in place. “Dinner will be out shortly.”

She takes off then.

When his gaze meets yours, you both burst out laughing.

“Well, my fellow idiot, I have one more question before I finally answer yours.”

Steve grins. “Lay it on me.”

“Why do you call me ‘bijou’? I know it’s French, and it means jewel. I’m just not clear on the why.” You prop your chin on your free hand and lean across the table towards him. 

The desire to lean in, to close the distance between you, is overwhelming. He longs to learn how soft your lips are against his, but he swallows the desire. Maybe one day real soon, he’ll have earned the privilege. All bets will be off then because he has no doubts that he’ll never want to stop kissing you.

“I took French in high school. Second language requirement. I ended up really liking it. Still pretty decent at it though I don’t practice half as much as I should. Back then, I really wanted to see Paris and be in the City of Love, you know? I got that chance with the army. Spent about a week between tours there and got to see some of the sights, but I’ve always wanted to go back. To really see all the sights. Share it with someone I really care about.”

He stops then, needing the moment to gather himself. For what, he can’t really say. It’s not lost on him that his next words have the power to either woo you or send you running in the opposite direction. All he wants is to keep you as close as you’ll allow for as long as he can.

“When I first saw you, I thought you were an angel. You certainly looked like one that night, but you were also so precious, rare. You took your time that evening learning about Jake. The tip you left was more than generous, even by normal tipping standards. Not once did you ever make someone feel inferior to you. I saw the way you stood up for Peter when that customer tripped him. I’ve never been more impressed with someone who wanted to do what’s right and not for what they might get in return.”

Your hand tightens around his, temporarily stopping him. He sees you blink rapidly. Your attempts to stop the tears are unsuccessful.

Reaching across the table, he gently swipes at the corners of your eyes and offers a smile.

“I don’t think you know how much of an impression you made on all of us that night. You were the most precious jewel I’d ever seen, and I’ve seen the English Queen’s jewels on a brief layover in London once. You don’t know how much I fell for you that night and having been falling ever since.”

His fingers continue to try and stem the flow of your tears leaking freely down your cheeks at his confession. The sweet smile on your face is almost as wondrous as you nuzzling your cheek against his hand, seeking his touch.

With a sniffle, you ask, “Do we really have to wait until Monday for that date?”

“It’s my next day off,” he says with a soft laugh, happy you’re agreeing to go out with him, “but I promise to make it worth the wait.”

A loud round of applause and several whoops echoed through the room.

Steve’s head shot towards the doorway where his entire staff are watching. Bucky stands at the head of the group, two plates in his hands and a wide grin on his face.

“Bout time you finally shoot your shot, punk. Doll here is a real saint for waiting on you so long.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t refute Bucky’s assertion.

“Kiss her already, man,” Sam hollered from behind Nat and Jake.

Before they can start chanting because they would, Steve leans in close to you, whispering, “Is it alright if I kiss you? Not because of these fools, but because I want to.”

Your smile contains a hint of mischief even as you nod.

When he’s within a breath of your lips, you let him know exactly what’s on your mind, whispering, “You know I’m an interior decorator, who’s just gotten a promotion. I could do wonders with this room of yours.  Maybe make it a place to turn the tables on these matchmakers you seem to have.”

“Mon bijou, you can do anything you want as long as I can call you mine.”

His lips touch yours, and you both forget about everything but each other.

Well, at least until Bucky sets your plates down on the table and sends everyone back to work. He’s the first to congratulate you both with hugs and well wishes for your long and happy future together.

*****

Main Masterlist

[solxamber]

Antinomy - Leo Kurosagi x reader

You and Leo have been at each other's throats for the past few years. So why does it feel so wrong when he shows up at your door bruised and bloody? aka the prompt: "I didn't know where else to go"

The knock is sharp, almost a thud, one that echoes through the room like the reverberation of some bad omen. It’s well past two in the morning, and nothing good ever comes from visitors at this hour. But still, curiosity gets the better of you, and you open the door with more force than you intend.

You freeze. It’s Leo.

He’s leaning against the doorframe, disheveled, one arm clutching his side. His usual smug demeanor is nowhere to be found; instead, his face is bruised, streaks of dried blood trailing from his nose. There’s a cut above his eyebrow, barely clotted, and his shirt is torn like it’s seen better days—like he’ seen better days. It’s probably the first time you’ve ever seen him so out of sorts.

“What the hell…” You can barely get the words out as he leans more heavily on the frame, gritting his teeth.

“Look,” he rasps, voice rougher than the usual annoyingly smug tone, “I didn’t know where else to go.”

You stare, unblinking, taking in the sight of him—your infamous rival, the bane of your existence, now standing battered and barely on his feet. A barrage of thoughts rush through your mind. The first: how the hell did he end up like this? The second: why is he here?

When you don’t immediately move or speak, Leo’s mouth curls into something resembling a smirk—though it’s weaker, a shadow of his usual arrogance. “Sho’s out of town… and as much as you love hating me… we both know you don’t hate me enough to leave me out here bleeding.”

Your jaw tightens at that. The nerve. But he’s right. Damn him, he’s always right when it comes to this—knowing just how far to push before you break.

“What did you do?” you finally snap, folding your arms, though it feels more like an attempt to shield yourself from whatever storm’s about to follow him inside.

“Picked the wrong fight,” he mutters. “Didn’t turn out quite the way I expected.”

“Clearly.” You look him up and down, incredulous. “And Alan? Why didn’t you just call Alan?”

A wince flashes across his face as he tries to straighten himself. “I'm already on thin ice with him. I'd rather not hear it from him right now.”

“You expect me to help you? You do realize who you’re talking to, right?” You bite out, though a part of you already knows you’ll cave. There’s something different about Leo tonight. Gone is the usual bravado, the mocking quips and cynical remarks. In their place, you see desperation—vulnerability. He wouldn’t have come here unless he really had no other option.

“Come on,” he breathes, his voice fraying at the edges. “As much as you’d love to see me suffer, you wouldn’t let me bleed out on your doorstep.”

You hate that he’s right. And you hate that some twisted part of you does care—more than you’re willing to admit, even now. With a sigh, you step back, allowing him entry.

“Fine,” you huff, “but don’t expect me to play nice.”

“I’d never expect that from you,” he says with a pained grin as he limps inside.

You close the door behind him, trying to ignore the pounding in your chest. You’re rivals—you hate him, really—and yet, here you are, letting him into your space, into your life when he’s at his weakest. It’s irrational. It’s stupid. But it’s Leo, and you’ve never been able to figure out why you care so much about someone who’s made your life extremely inconvenient for so long.

“Sit,” you order, motioning toward the couch.

He gives you a mock salute, then collapses onto the cushions with a groan, clutching his side tighter.

“What the hell happened to you?” You grab a first-aid kit from the kitchen, already mentally preparing yourself for a long night.

“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” Leo mumbles, though the way he winces with every breath tells a different story. “Just got a little out of hand.”

“A little?” You raise an eyebrow, kneeling down in front of him to examine the damage. His knuckles are bloodied, the cut on his eyebrow still oozing slightly. His shirt’s soaked with sweat, and you can see the bruises spreading across his ribs. He looks like he’s been through a war.

Leo watches you with an unreadable expression as you start cleaning his wounds. “What’s with the concern, hmm? Thought you’d be celebrating right about now. Finally got me on my knees, and not in the way you imagined.”

You glare at him, pushing a bit harder on the wound than necessary. He hisses but doesn’t flinch. “Shut up, Leo. You’re lucky I don’t kick you while you’re down.”

He chuckles softly, though it’s strained. “You always had a mean streak.”

“Maybe I just hate you.”

His grin falters for a moment, something almost… hurt flickering in his eyes. “Yeah, maybe.”

There’s a beat of silence, the weight of the moment pressing down on both of you. You’ve patched him up as best you can and cleaned the wounds on his knuckles but they still looked raw and painful. But the tension in the air is thick, and neither of you seems willing to break it.

“You didn’t have to come here,” you murmur, sitting back on your heels, arms crossing over your chest again. “You could’ve gone to anyone. Your fans would’ve eaten this up. Why come to me?”

Leo’s gaze shifts to the floor. For the first time since you opened the door, he looks… unsure.

“I… I didn’t want them to see me like this,” he admits quietly, his usual cocky bravado nowhere to be found. “And Sho wasn’t around. You were the only one I thought of.”

Your heart skips a beat, though you fight to keep your expression neutral. “Why?”

“Because I knew you wouldn't let me bleed out,” he says, so softly you almost don’t hear it.

And there it is. The vulnerability beneath all the layers of arrogance and wit. The part of Leo you’ve only ever caught glimpses of. You’ve always known it was there, buried deep under his ego, but seeing it now, laid bare in front of you, feels… different.

“Dumbass,” you mutter, looking away. “You picked a fight, got yourself hurt, and now you’re here expecting me to fix it.”

“I don’t expect you to fix anything,” he says, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I just didn’t know where else to go.”

You take a deep breath, trying to rein in your frustration. He’s hurt, and despite all the history between you two—the constant bickering, the rivalry that’s lasted years—this is different. He came to you when he was at his lowest, and there’s something in that which makes your chest tighten.

You sit down beside him on the couch, careful to give him space but not too much. It’s a strange feeling, having Leo so close, especially like this—broken, vulnerable, his cocky grin now replaced by something far more human.

“Why do you always do this to yourself?” The words slip out before you can stop them, not exactly what you meant to say, but the only thing that comes to mind. “You pick fights you know you can’t win and rely on Sho to bail you out. What do you think will happen if he can’t make it in time?” You gesture toward his battered state. “And when he couldn’t, you showed up at my door?” Your voice trembles as you take a shuddering breath. “Do you expect me to pick up the pieces?”

Leo glances at you out of the corner of his eye, and for a second, you think he might laugh it off, make some snide remark like he usually does. But he doesn’t. Instead, he just sighs, leaning his head back against the cushions, eyes closing.

“I don’t know,” he admits quietly, and it catches you off guard. “Maybe I’m just a glutton for punishment.”

You shake your head, frustration boiling beneath the surface. “That’s not an answer, Leo. You’re reckless. You put yourself in danger just for the thrill of it, and then what? You expect people to be there to bail you out?”

“I don’t expect anyone to do anything for me,” he says, his voice sharp, but there’s an edge of defeat in it. “Not even you.”

“Then why come here?” you press, anger rising. “Why not just go home and patch yourself up like you usually do?”

He opens his eyes, turning his head to look at you. There’s something raw in his gaze, something you’ve never seen before. It’s unsettling, like he’s letting you in, showing you a part of himself that he’s always kept hidden.

“Because I knew you’d actually care,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

And there it is again, that vulnerability, the crack in his armor. It’s the one thing you never expected from him, and it’s throwing you off balance. You don’t know how to respond, don’t know how to deal with Leo when he’s like this—so exposed, so… real.

You swallow hard, looking away. “You’re an idiot, Leo.”

“Yeah,” he mutters, leaning his head back again, closing his eyes. “I know.”

Silence falls between you, thick and uncomfortable, but also strangely intimate. You can hear his breathing, slow and steady now that he’s stopped trying to act tough. His hand rests on his lap, knuckles still raw from whatever fight he got himself into. Without thinking, you reach out, gently taking his hand in yours, inspecting the damage despite just cleaning it.

He doesn’t pull away.

“You could’ve died,” you say softly, the words almost getting caught in your throat. “And for what? A stupid fight?”

He’s quiet for a long moment, and when he finally speaks, his voice is low, almost pained. “Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if I had.”

Your heart stops. You turn to him, eyes wide, but he doesn’t look back at you. He keeps his gaze fixed on the ceiling, as if he’s afraid to meet your eyes.

“Leo…” you start, but you don’t know how to finish. You’ve never heard him talk like this—so defeated, so broken. It’s like you’re seeing a completely different person, someone who’s been hiding behind that arrogant smirk for years, and it scares you.

“I’m tired,” he says, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Tired of all of it.”

You swallow hard, trying to keep your emotions in check. “Then why do you keep doing it? Why do you keep putting yourself through this?”

“Because I don’t know how to stop,” he admits, his voice trembling. “I don’t know how to be anything else.”

The words hang in the air between you, heavy and suffocating. You can feel the weight of them, pressing down on your chest, making it hard to breathe. You’ve always known that there was more to Leo than the cocky influencer he portrayed online, but you never realized just how deep his insecurities ran.

You squeeze his hand gently, hoping to offer some kind of comfort. “You don’t have to do this alone, you know. You don’t have to keep pretending like everything’s fine when it’s not.”

He laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “And who’s going to help me? You?”

You meet his gaze, holding it this time. “Yes. Me.”

For a moment, neither of you speaks. The tension is thick, but there’s something else there too—something unspoken, something that’s been building between you for years. You’ve always been rivals, always been at each other’s throats, but underneath all of that, there’s been this… connection. This thing that neither of you has ever been willing to acknowledge.

Until now.

Leo’s eyes soften, his usual sharp wit dulled by exhaustion and pain. He watches you for a moment, like he’s trying to figure something out, and then, slowly, he leans in.

You don’t stop him.

His lips brush against yours, tentative at first, like he’s testing the waters, waiting for you to push him away. But you don’t. Instead, you close the distance, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that’s soft, but filled with years of unresolved tension.

It’s messy and imperfect, but it feels right—like this was always supposed to happen, like this was the inevitable conclusion of everything that’s ever passed between you. And for a moment, it’s just the two of you, lost in each other, everything else fading away.

When he finally pulls back, he looks at you with something like disbelief in his eyes, like he can’t quite believe what just happened.

“You…” he starts, but he doesn’t finish. He doesn’t need to.

You just nod, leaning your forehead against his. “Yeah. Me.”

And in that moment, something between you shifts. The walls that you’ve both spent years building up start to crumble, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you’re both just… there. Vulnerable. Real.

It’s terrifying, but it’s also liberating.

“You don’t have to keep doing this, Leo,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “You don’t have to keep fighting.”

He closes his eyes, exhaling softly. “I don’t know how to stop.”

“You don’t have to do it alone,” you say again, squeezing his hand. “I’m here.”

For a long moment, he doesn’t respond. But then, slowly, he nods and buries his face into your neck.

“Okay,” he whispers.

And for the first time in years, Leo lets his guard down.

Masterlist

[farenmaddox]

SPN wild theory time

I will just go ahead and start with my thesis statement: I don't think that Jack killed Mary.

With that out of the way, let's get into my warnings for this post: 1. There will be spoilers for Seasons 11-15 of Supernatural 2. I wasn't in this fandom 5-6 years ago when these episodes were coming out; maybe you guys already talked this all out and your entire response is going to be "we already went through this, dude." 3. This post is actually like 3-4 posts in a trenchcoat. I may have gone slightly overboard.

All that said, buckle up, here we go.

Chuck's "omniscience" is questionable. He has been surprised by Dean's decision-making and been upset about it, and has admitted that Castiel is someone whose actions often contradict Chuck's narrative. So, by his own admission, he doesn't/can't know everything.

However, he always thinks ahead and always has multiple ideas on how to solve a situation, and he always has a contingency plan.

First, let's look at how he handled the Amara situation. I would characterize Chuck's behavior in Season 11 as writing a self-insert fic. Chuck is a writer, after all. He knew that Dean taking the Mark of Cain would either lead to Dean's destruction or to Amara being released, so he would have been ready for Amara to appear well before she actually did. But it's only in episode 11x20 that he chooses to do anything about it, ostensibly because Metatron talks him into it. We already see signs that he's kind of "done" with the prime world and the Winchesters here, but then Metratron convinces him to give it another go, and that's when it becomes self-insert fic.

He displays the ability to absorb Amara into himself in episode 15x17, so I think this was always the contingency plan if all else failed. But he wanted to be in the story. He wanted to be on the team and be a hero, so he joins up to do the big assault on Amara plan that is carried out in 11x22. I truly do not think he foresaw that Amara would win that fight. And with how badly wounded he is, the contingency plan is no longer viable. So he has to go with the Dean-as-a-bomb plan. He was already thinking about letting it all go to shit, so this is fine. But then Dean wants to save the day with his faith in familial love, which Chuck definitely didn't see coming. I think Chuck lets it happen despite the fact that he doesn't actually give two shits about Amara just because Dean is his favorite and has managed to surprise him so maybe the world should go on a little longer.

All of this is just establishing a baseline of Chuck-ness. Now we're going to talk about Jack.

See, I don't think Chuck ever planned on Jack actually being carried to term and surviving. The wild card, as always, is Cas. Who, when he had a chance to kill a nephilim (a thing he has done before! a thing he has assisted in doing in the past! it's a sure bet for Chuck!)...doesn't do that. But that's okay (Chuck thinks)! The Winchesters will probably kill the kid! And if they don't, and Lucifer wins, then Chuck can swoop in and be like "my beautiful son and my beautiful grandson, oh my me, this is delightful, we should be a family" and then kill them both.

Dean hating Jack was absolutely Chuck's first choice of potential plots for how to take care of the Jack problem when it turns out that there is going to be a Jack. He likes that story. It surely fills him with glee that Sam doesn't hate Jack and Dean does. But then... fuck, it's Castiel, again! Chuck had no involvement in Cas being resurrected, for once. No way to predict that one. And Cas being back means that Dean doesn't hate Jack and isn't going to kill him, especially since Jack helps them get Mary back, which sucks for Chuck, who is now very committed to this storyline of Dean killing Jack. Don't forget, Chuck can kill Jack whenever he wants. But he wants Dean to do it. He's bored and done with Dean and is ready for Dean to be dead.

So, how do we get Dean to kill Jack? Well, obviously Cas's death doesn't goad him to do it because the fucker just can't stay dead, so it has to be Sam or Mary. And it can't be Sam, because Sam has to watch Dean kill Jack and himself. That's the story. So it has to be Mary, right?

Chuck just has to wait for the right moment.

Jack has a strong sense of fear about hurting people by the time of Mary's death. 13x06 and 14x16 are some critical episodes where we see how he feels and reacts to hurting innocent people. And he seems to have pretty good control over his powers as well. He had just recently had a conversation with Donatello (in 14x15) about how easy it is to continue doing the right thing without a soul. His decision to kill Felix the snake was very much on purpose and very controlled, and honestly can everyone shut up about the snake. Jack fucking loved that snake. It was sick and nobody else knew how to help Felix either. He euthanized a sick pet.

So it is hard to believe that Jack just randomly lost control of his powers and killed someone whom he had no reason to kill. That's not really consistent with Jack's behavior. Even when he's in a complete rage in 14x20 after what Sam and Dean did to him, he doesn't kill them. At his most angry and while experiencing a huge surge in power, he somehow doesn't kill Sam and Dean. But we're expected to believe that in 14x17, he just "accidentally" flies off the handle and kills Mary.

The thing that is genuinely so crucial is that we do not see Mary's death in 14x17. It does not happen on screen. Deaths in this show always happen on screen, and it's not on screen. All we see is her face near Jack's, and the next episode all we see is the blast site. I think that the reason we don't get to see it is because it didn't actually happen the way we're told it did.

The fact that Mary can't be resurrected? That's weird, and new. That literally never happens. Everyone can be resurrected. People who were turned into paste by archangels can be resurrected. People who have been cremated can be resurrected. But Mary can't be? That's got Chuck's smell all over it.

Jack thinks he killed Mary, but he fucking didn't. Chuck did it. Chuck smote the shit out of that woman and Jack doesn't have any other explanation for what happened. I don't even think he is actually hallucinating Lucifer. Soulless guy who "doesn't feel guilt" and doesn't want Lucifer in his subconscious but somehow can't get rid of him? It's Chuck. It's Chuck dressed up as Lucifer to keep Jack on the edge and convince him it was his fault so he can lead everybody to the grand finale.

And then stupid Dean ruins the story and doesn't kill Jack. Which Chuck should have seen coming, because this is what happened with Amara! But he didn't, because sometimes Chuck actually doesn't know things! It's okay though (Chuck thinks), because Chuck always has a contingency plan. He has always been able to kill Jack whenever he wanted, and if Dean's not going to do it, Chuck might as well. So he does.

I'm telling you. Chuck killed Mary. Jack didn't do it.

[mozzaremi]

[kinokoshoujoart]

the coolest kids in forgotten valley!!☆

(…it seems there may have been a stretch of time where rock and lumina were the only kids in forgotten valley…🥲)

poseref

[antiyourwokehomophobia2]

I wonder what it is about breaking up with someone and starting new that I find so upsetting. I realize that people also find break ups heartbreaking, but I know I take it to an extreme. I've never liked the idea of having different partners throughout my life. The idea of having an ex has always been something I hated. The type of breakup didn't matter to me. That is to say whether we ended on good or bad terms didn't make the idea of ending a relationship better to me. I'm not trying to be pretentious about it, I'm just being fr about a sentiment I've held for as long as I can remember. I've never been the type of person who enjoyed the idea of hook ups or casual dating. For better or worse, I've always held the belief that romantic relationships should be all in and serious from the beginning.

I think this feeling is definitely exacerbated by the fact that I've been passed up for another person before so I know what it's like to have someone "move on" from you, and it genuinely sucks like all fucking hell lmao. So the idea of "moving on" and being with someone else has been incredibly tarnished for me.

[icewindandboringhorror]

examining a seemingly normal image only to slowly realize the clear signs of AI generated art.... i know what you are... you cannot hide your true nature from me... go back where you came from... out of my sight with haste, wretched and vile husk

[bueris]

okay maybe I should seriously reconsider my path in life and sell my soul to marketing or journalism instead

[nomairuins]

anyways sry its not srs eventually ill get it together . and be a person again. one day

[ninjasmudge]

post: we are boycotting [brand]! do not buy from them

me (not american, never heard of them): 👍 yes boss

[dsgustng]

I hate that Disability thing where ur disability is.... debilitating and affects ur every day life in extremely drastic ways... but it always feels like you need to be worse to ever get proper help or be taken seriously..

[nerdie-faerie]

Shift so bad you have to sit on shopfloor until everyone leaves you the fuck alone