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specialagentsergio · 3 years

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all we can do is keep breathing || chapter two

summary: Spencer’s doing better, but recovery isn’t linear, and some scars run deeper than either of you knew.

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

category: angst (eventual happy ending)

content warnings: swearing, drug abuse & addiction, substance use disorder, ptsd, descriptions of panic attacks/ptsd episodes, recollection of past bullying, unhealthy coping mechanisms, yelling/fighting, negative feelings towards other team members, body image issues

a/n: i was so taken aback by the response to chapter one--i didn’t think anyone would even read it tbh. thank you all and thanks for being patient with my lack of an upload schedule. i'm so sorry the word count is massive again. you get tummy appreciation, though, because 1) we all love spencer’s tummy, and 2) i personally gained weight when i was in residential treatment and it can be a bit of a mindfuck lol.

a/n 2: repeated disclaimer that i'm not a doctor, psychologist, psychiatrist, etc., just a direct care staff, past rtc patient and trauma recovery enthusiast. the horse therapy is pretty much entirely based on my own personal experience from nearly a decade ago, so don’t expect it to be an accurate portrayal of equine-assisted psychotherapy.

word count: 7.3k

song: you will be found from dear evan hansen

fic masterlist || masterlist

He’s been looking forward to the start of equine therapy since he got a spot in the program. But instead of being excited the morning of, Spencer ends up crying for an hour straight.

The day started off fine. It wasn’t hard to get up with the horses to look forward to, and he was able to get an extra plate at breakfast, so he could keep the pancake syrup from touching the eggs and sausage. Art therapy was a few hours later. He’d started to actually enjoy the pottery project—the recreational therapist had brought him a box of disposable gloves to use so the feeling of drying clay on his hands was no longer a problem.

Everyone’s projects were coming out of the kiln today and the next step was painting them. He’d been planning out the design and colors he wanted to use since the project started and was excited to finally start applying it.

Then he dropped his item, it broke into pieces, and he burst into tears.

He’d fled the room on instinct alone and curled up in a corner of the hallway, pressing his knees to his forehead. He was upset about the pottery, and upset that he was so affected by it breaking. He felt stupid and silly for crying over it, which only made him cry harder.

He heard distant laughter and he clapped his hands over his ears. He was being laughed at again for being a crybaby. He didn’t want to be a crybaby. He wanted to stop crying, he just couldn’t. The goalpost was cold against the bare skin of his back, and his wrists were starting to burn from the ties.

I want to go home. Just let me go home, please, I’ll do anything. Let me go, let me go--

“Spencer, it’s okay. You’re safe here. Can you repeat after me? I’m safe here.”

Safe here. Safe here.

Art therapy was over by the time he came out of it.

He has lunch at his therapist’s office instead of with the group. Lara asks what his flashback had been to.

He picks at his food. “It happened a long time ago. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Alright. Can you tell me how it felt instead?”

Spencer isn’t really hungry, but bites into his sandwich to stall for time. She doesn’t rush him. Eventually, he asks, “Do you know what alexithymia means?”

“No words for feelings,” she replies.

He nods. “That’s all.”

Lara opens one of her desk drawers and pulls out a composition notebook, which she then hands to him.

“What’s this for?”

“I want you to start trying to notice your feelings and sensations throughout the day. Make some kind of note, even if you don’t exactly have the words to describe it.”

He sighs. “Why?”

“Just noticing what you feel can help you develop emotional regulation,” she explains. She’s always been honest with him about the why of what she wants him to try and do. “It’s going to help you stop ignoring what’s going on inside you.”

I don’t want to do that.

“I know you don’t.”

“I didn’t mean to say that out loud,” he blurts. “That either. I—god.” He quickly takes another bite of food before he can say more.

“It’s fine. I didn’t expect you to like it,” Lara says with a small smile. “I’m sure the thought of confronting what you’ve been suppressing and avoiding is scary. But getting better requires you to do a lot of scary things.”

Spencer wants to protest. Being strapped to a chair in a shed and dosed against your will is scary. Your mother being diagnosed with Alzheimer's is scary. Being sent to prison for a crime you didn’t commit is scary. Feeling things? That’s not scary.

Isn’t it?

He tries not to think on it too much.

Despite the unpleasant thoughts running through his mind, Spencer finds himself nodding off on the van ride to the horse ranch. His eyes unfocus, his blink rate slows… and then he jerks back awake at the sensation of his head falling forward.

A frustrated noise escapes the back of his throat. He’s sick of feeling tired all the time. He’s getting enough sleep in theory, but still finds himself drowsy at least once a day. It’s to the point that he’s regularly wearing his glasses instead of his contacts to keep his eyes from feeling quite so dry. He pushes them back up now as he tries to tune back in to his surroundings.

“… don’t get how seeing some horse is supposed to make me feel better.” That’s Aiden’s voice. He’s Spencer’s new roommate. He wasn’t happy when he found out he was getting a new one, having much preferred having the room to himself, but it’s been okay so far, mostly because they keep out of each other’s way. Aiden seems uninterested in making friends, and that suits Spencer just fine. Lara’s been encouraging him to talk to fellow patients instead of just the direct care staff, but he’s resisted it. The last time he befriended someone, they ended up--

Spencer’s fine with the two of them keeping to themselves.

Melanie, one of the staff accompanying them, is leaned over the back of the middle seat as she talks to Aiden. “Well, I couldn’t tell you why exactly, but I’ve seen this program help a lot of people in my time here,” she says. “Spencer?”

“What?”

“You’ve been reading a lot about horses, right?” At his nod, she continues, “What have you found out?”

“Equine-assisted psychotherapy lacks the rigorous scientific evidence to demonstrate if it provides benefits in mental health treatment. Horses have been used to aid in psychiatric treatment since the 1990’s, though,” he says. He intends to stop there, but can’t stop himself from continuing. “It doesn’t necessarily involve riding, but may include grooming, feeding, and ground exercises. The goal is to help the client in social, emotional, cognitive, and or behavioral ways.”

He can feel Aiden’s eyes on him and takes a breath before meeting them. He knows all too well that his infodumps aren’t always well received. He doesn’t want to be friends, but would prefer for his roommate to not view him with disdain or annoyance. But Aiden looks interested, and says as much--”that’s interesting.” He looks like he wants to say more, but doesn’t, and there’s silence between them for the remainder of the drive. It’s not uncomfortable, though.

When the van pulls into a parking spot and everyone starts to get out, Spencer begins to feel nervous. He’s read everything he could get his hands on, but as a relatively new therapy, there’s no standard program; it varies by facility, so he doesn’t know exactly what to expect. He’s been looking forward to this, but what if it turns out to be a bad fit for him? What if the people here don’t like him? What if the horses don’t like him?

He hangs at the back of their group of ten—six patients and two staff—as they’re led to a shaded area. They’re introduced to the program director and assistants, and are given an overview of what they’ll be doing over the next six weeks. They won’t be riding the horses, just doing groundwork (he’s not sure if he feels relieved or disappointed). Then he learns that intention of this specific program isn’t just for the horses to help the clients—the clients are to help the horses as well. The animals all have the gentle temperaments suited for therapy, but also have their own struggles. A lot of them were adopted out of poor situations.

They’re led to a circular corral next and spaced equidistantly around the edge. Spencer’s heart rate picks up as the horses are brought in—the animals will be picking their therapy partner, the director says. As they’re let off their leads a jolt of anxiety runs through his body, making him twitch slightly. This feels uncomfortably familiar to school P.E. when teams were picked. No one wanted him then. What’s gong to happen if none of the horses want him, either? He looks down at his shoes.

But just a few moments later, he hears his name, and looks up to see one of the horses approaching him. “Looks like you and Chance are our first pair,” the director is saying.

First?

Chance is almost entirely black, save for a spot of white between his eyes and above his nose. His size is a little intimidating, but his demeanor is gentle. One of the assistants comes up to Spencer and instructs him to hold out his hand so the horse can sniff it.

His hand trembles slightly as he lifts it. Warm breath hits his fingers as Chance sniffs at it. Then the horse presses his nose completely against his hand. The moistness would usually bother Spencer, but for some reason it doesn’t. Instead, a smile slowly spreads across his face. The assistant tells him he can pet Chance now. He runs his hand up and down the horse’s snout, and despite the slight coarseness of the hair, finds it soothing.

The horse shuffles closer when Spencer is given his lead to hold. A startled laugh escapes him when Chance presses his nose into his neck. He pats his head a few times, then takes a tiny step back. He’s thrilled that at least one of the horses likes him, but feels a little crowded by the large animal. To his surprise, Chance seems to understand, and takes a step back of his own.

He absently pats his horse as he watches the rest of the group pair up. He still can’t believe he was picked first.

The rest of their time with the horses is very simple. They’re taught how to lead them, and after practicing in the corral, they take the horses back to their paddocks. Spencer’s disappointed to say goodbye already, but understands the need to not overwhelm the horses or even themselves. “I’ll see you next week,” he finds himself whispering to Chance.

There’s ten minutes left in the session, and it’s spent with the director telling them more about each horses’ specific background. Chance was poorly treated by his previous owner, mostly kept locked up in a small barn and not properly cared for. He has many talents and abilities, the director says. He needs to learn that he didn’t deserve to be treated the way he was, and be told that he is brave.

Spencer rests his chin in his hand and stares out the window on the drive back to the treatment center. He knows from his reading that horses are emotionally intelligent creatures, but he’s still… well, amazed by how the horses all picked who was most similar to them out of the group instinctively.

He feels more understood by an animal he’s interacted with for twenty minutes than he has by a person for months.

Before bed that night, he chews on the stem of his pen cap, thinking over the events of his day. Slowly, in a manner that could almost be described as cautious, he picks up the empty composition book Lara gave him and opens it. His hand hovers over the blank page for a few moments, then he puts pen on paper and begins to write.

---

You made dinner reservations for his visit this Saturday. You’re getting ready for it when there’s a knock on the front door.

“I’ll get it,” Spencer calls from the living room.

You return to fixing your hair up. You’re not expecting anyone, so it’s probably just a package or a neighbor. But just a few moments later, you hear Spencer raise his voice.

“No! No, I don’t—don’t touch me, please.”

You’re only half dressed, but hurry out to the living room anyways. When you round the corner, you immediately see what the problem is: JJ has dropped by unexpectedly.

It’s not that Spencer doesn’t want to see his team. They just bring memories with them, and he had decided shortly after his birthday that he wasn’t ready to confront that yet.

He’s standing a little ways back from the door, staring at JJ while she looks back with hurt on her face. “Spence--” she starts before she sees you.

At Spencer’s side, you place a hand on his arm and he takes a step behind you. “JJ, what are you doing here?”

She struggles to keep her eyes off of him as she answers. “(Y/N), I’m sorry, I just—Will and I made cookies with the boys today and we had a lot of extra, so I just wanted to drop some off for you. I—I didn’t know Spence was here. I didn’t mean to--”

You hold up a hand to stop her. “It’s okay, JJ. You couldn’t have known. You were just trying to do something nice.”

She nods, relieved at your understanding. “Yeah. Yeah, I….” She blows out a breath, then holds out a plastic wrapped plate of cookies to you. You take it from her with a quiet thank you. Then she looks back to the man that’s essentially hiding behind you as best as he can, despite how tall he is. “Spence, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you wouldn’t want me to touch you.”

There’s a tug on your clothing as he curls his fingers into the fabric on the small of your back. You tilt your head to look at him, but his gaze is on the floor. “You…” he glances up once, then looks back down. “You should ask next time,” he says quietly.

“Okay,” she replies, just as softly. “I will.”

You bite down on the inside of your cheeks to hold back a smile. Spencer often struggles to advocate for his needs, especially with his friends and colleagues, in fear of being a burden or more of a nuisance than he thinks others already perceive him as. He did it a lot with you when you first started dating. It took a lot of time and reassurance that yes, you really did want to know his wants and needs, for him to open up. Telling JJ to ask before touching him may seem small from the outside, but it’s a big deal for him.

After a rather awkward silence, JJ speaks again. “Well, um, I should get going. Just… let us know if you need anything, okay, Spence? We—the team, we’re all here for you.”

“That’s rich,” Spencer mutters behind you and you freeze. You recognize that edge to his voice. It’s usually accompanied by sharp words and remarks that he’ll regret later.

Please please please tell me JJ didn’t hear that.

“I’m sorry?”

Fuck.

“I hate to rush you out, JJ, but we have dinner reservations, so--” you try to interject but Spencer speaks over you.

“I’m just saying, why should I believe you’re here for me when you weren’t last time?”

JJ’s eyebrows come together. “I… don’t understand, I’ve always--”

“No, you haven’t!” It’s like Spencer can’t get the words out fast enough, the way he keeps interrupting before either of you can finish a sentence. This is clearly something that’s been weighing on him. You just wish he was unloading it onto his therapist rather than poor JJ, his best friend outside of you, who’s just trying to be nice. “Ten years ago I was shooting up in police station bathrooms and Emily is the only one who said a damn thing.”

His grip on your clothes tightens, forcing you to take a step back. You move the plate of cookies to one hand and reach back with the other, circling it around his wrist. “Spencer.”

Realization dawns on JJ’s face and she crosses her arms. “Spence, I couldn’t--”

“You couldn’t.” The little laugh he lets out derisive. “Yeah, I’ve heard that before.”

You don’t know where all this is coming from or what he’s referring to, but JJ does, her expression hardening.

“You know what would have happened if the higher ups found out,” she says. “I was protecting your job. We all were.”

“You shouldn’t have!” he cries, emotions other than anger seeping into the words. “This damn job is one of the worst things that’s ever happened to me! I got anthrax poisoning, I still have issues with my knee from being shot. I nearly died from a shot in the neck, and let’s not forget, I was framed for murder by a psychopath I arrested, who then kidnapped my mother while I was in prison! Oh, and what else? Oh right, this job is the reason I’m a fucking addict in the first place!”

JJ’s clearly trying to hold back tears now, but one slips out and your heart aches for her. You close your eyes briefly and take a deep breath, then speak quietly but firmly. “Spencer, you need to leave the room.”

You can hear him breathing shakily behind you. “(Y/N)--”

“Now.” You squeeze his wrist and he finally lets go of your clothing. He takes a few steps away, stops, turns back and opens his mouth to say something, but at the look you give him, shuts it and continues on his way out.

A sniffle draws your attention back to JJ, who’s looking up at the ceiling and swiping at the tears sliding down. “Sorry,” she mutters. “I shouldn’t have come by without giving you a heads-up. I’ve just made things worse.”

“No, JJ, don’t be sorry. It--” There’s thumping noises from further back in the apartment so you step forward and shut the front door behind you. She has her arms wrapped around herself when you turn back.

“It’s not your fault,” you continue. “You were just trying to be nice. You’re a good friend to him. He’s just… everything is really raw for him right now, if that makes sense?”

She nods, wiping at her eyes again.

“It’s, uh, not an excuse, though,” you clarify. “That’s not what I’m trying to say. You didn’t do anything wrong. That was all him, so please don’t blame yourself.”

JJ is quiet for a bit, staring at the floor. Then she says, “I should get going.”

“Yeah, that’s probably for the best,” you agree quietly. Realizing you’re still holding the plate of cookies in one hand, you lift it slightly and add, “Thanks for these. And, um… I’m so sorry about that.”

She shakes her head and glances at the door. “Don’t be. Like you said, it was all him,” she murmurs.

You know she’s right, but you’re still barely able to stop yourself from apologizing again as she descends the stairs. You can’t help but feel like you should have done more, stopped him somehow, even though you don’t know how you could have. The way his behavior changed… it was like he wanted to get it all out, and when Spencer Reid wants to say something, it’s nearly impossible to get him to stop.

The apartment isn’t quiet when you walk back in. There’s the scraping and clatter of a desk drawer, followed by frantic footsteps and the thud of books falling off the shelves. You know what he’s doing, and you know he won’t find anything, so you just lock the front door and continue on to the kitchen to put the cookies away.

You lean on the counter and cover your face with your hands. It doesn’t matter if you mess up your hair or face, or anything, really, because you’re not making it to dinner anymore.

You stay like that for a while, eyes closed, trying to think of a place to even start with Spencer after all of that. When the sounds of him tearing through the apartment stop, you lift you head back up and promptly jump—he’s staring at you from the nearest doorway.

“Jesus, Spencer--”

“Where’s my stuff?” he asks, and the seriousness in his tone of voice makes your anxiety spike. You know exactly what he means by stuff.

“It’s gone. What did you think was gonna happen?”

“Yeah, but it’s…” he trails off and his expression puzzles you. It almost looks like he’s confused. “It’s all gone.”

Ah. “Yeah, well, I know you think you’re sneaky, but you’re very much the opposite when you’re not sober,” you reply. “Finding your hiding spots wasn’t hard.”

He drops his gaze to the floor, frowning. “I don’t like it when you move my things,” he says quietly.

“I don’t like it when you use,” you counter.

He visibly flinches, then his hand tightens on the door frame. “I’m not going to—to take it, I just want to hold it. Where’s my stuff?” he repeats.

“Holding it, right,” you sigh.

“It’s comforting,” he argues.

“Even if I believed that, it wouldn’t matter, Spencer. I threw it all out. There’s none here.”

The humming noise he makes is angry, and he rocks back and forth on his feet in an agitated manner. “You shouldn’t… I don’t….”

I don’t have the energy for this. It’s a thought you feel terrible about as soon as you have it, but it’s the truth. Lara had cautioned you before his first visit that he was going to be hypersensitive to disappointment and frustration until he learned how to cope with the feelings he’d been using the Dilaudid to block out. Unfortunately, the information, while useful, didn’t always make his emotional extremes easier to deal with.

You run a hand down your face. “Spencer…” you start. You’re not sure what to continue with, but you don’t have to—for whatever reason, that sets him off.

He tears his eyes away from the floor to glare at you. “Don’t—don’t touch my things ever again!” Then he turns and all but runs to the bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

You suck in a breath and drop your head to the counter. The marble is cool and you thump your forehead against it gently a few times, focusing on breathing in and out slowly to calm down. When you’re ready, you walk as quietly as you can to the bedroom door and press your ear against it to hear the unmistakable sound of Spencer sobbing into his pillow.

Part of you wants to go in and comfort him, but you suspect that you’d just make it worse right now since some of his frustration is directed at you. And truth be told, you’re frustrated with him, too. So you retreat to the living room, flopping down on the couch and pulling out your phone to call the restaurant to cancel your reservations. Doing so is more upsetting than you expected; a few tears of your own slide down your face after you hang up. Before you know it, you’re calling Tara.

“Hey, what’s up?” she asks you.

“I…” You swallow down the lump in your throat. “Spencer’s… we’re having a bad day. If you’re not busy, can I talk to you about it?”

“Of course,” is her gentle reply, and you pull yourself to your feet, moving to the farthest point away from the bedroom in the apartment so Spencer won’t overhear.

“He got angry when you told him you got rid of everything?” she guesses when you reach that part.

“Yeah. He told me that he doesn’t like it when I move his things. I already knew that; that’s why everything else is where he left it. I think he was mostly just caught off guard that I knew all his hiding places.”

“If he’s having a trauma response to seeing JJ, he’s not going to be thinking clearly, either,” Tara points out. “I wasn’t there, so I could be wrong, but from what you’ve said, it sounds like she was some sort of trigger for him.”

“That’s more than a fair assessment. It’s just… confusing,” you say. “He wasn’t like this with her when he first got home from prison. He actually spent a lot of time at JJ’s house before his relapse. He’d go over and hold Michael when he couldn’t sleep. Why is seeing his best friend suddenly such a bad thing?”

“I don’t know, but it doesn’t have to make sense to us. It only has to make sense to the traumatized part of the brain,” she explains. “He may not even know why himself.”

“Hmm.” You ponder it for a moment. “I think I’d find that interesting if I wasn’t living it.”

Tara laughs out loud at that. “Yeah, I’ve found that to be rather commonplace sentiment in the field of psychology.”

You take a deep breath and let it out slowly, feeling calmer. “Thanks for listening,” you say. “I feel better now.”

“Anytime, (Y/N).”

You exchange goodbyes, making plans to catch up properly over lunch next week. You hang up, then tiptoe back to the bedroom door. It’s quiet now; Spencer seems to have stopped crying. You knock softly. “Honey? Can I come in?”

When he doesn’t respond, you try the door handle. It’s unlocked, which is a good sign—he’s upset, but not upset enough to completely shut you out. You open the door just enough to look in.

Spencer’s on the bed as expected, huddled under his weighted blanket. His back is to the door and you see his shoulders shuddering in the little breaths that follow him crying. In your experience, he usually seeks out comfort before this stage, often having the breakdown itself in your arms or stumbling into them halfway through. This is a bit of uncharted territory. You know that after outbursts of negative emotions, he tends to need reassurance and touch from someone to help him decompress and feel better. You just don’t know if that’s going to hold true for this kind of reaction. A trauma response, Tara called it. You hope it will, because you don’t know what else to do.

“I’m going to come in now,” you tell him before taking a step inside. You leave the door open behind you so he won’t feel trapped, then slowly approach him, looking out for signs that he doesn’t want you near—tensing muscles, slight rocking, shaking his head—but he stays still.

Once you sit down on the edge of the bed you can see his face. His eyes are puffy and his cheeks are red and raw from wiping away tears. A few are still slipping out, sliding sideways down his face and dropping onto the wet patch on his pillowcase as he stares blankly at the wall across the room.

Hesitantly, you reach out and touch his arm as lightly as you can. He takes in a deep breath, but does nothing to suggest that he wants you to remove it. After a few moments to ensure that he’s okay with touch, you start running your hand up and down his back. He whimpers a little in response, closing his eyes and titling back into your touch.

“Are you okay?” you ask softly.

You don’t get a straightforward answer. He chews on his bottom lip for a bit before speaking in a scratchy voice. “Can you…?” he mumbles, lifting his head up slightly from the pillow, then dropping it back down. You don’t know what he’s asking for until you see some of his fingers poking out from under the blanket and the stroking motion they’re making.

You maneuver across the mattress to sit against the headboard, jostling him as little as you can, and he shifts to place his head in your lap. When you start carding your fingers through his hair, his eyes flutter closed and he lets out a little sigh.

“What’s going on?” you ask once the tension has faded and his body has settled fully into the mattress. He just shrugs and you press your lips together to hold back a sigh. You’re familiar with him going nonverbal and you know that he can’t help it, but it’s discouraging. One of the main things he’s been working on is being more open about his emotions. It’s been a welcome change to not have to pry things out of him. But he seems to have gone right back to old habits tonight and it’s… well, it’s disappointing.

The silence carries on for a long time as you continue to run your hands through his hair. He’s so still and relaxed that you think he may have fallen asleep until he takes in a deep, shuddering breath and clears his throat. “I… I want to go back,” he whispers.

“Back whe--” you start, then your heart drops as you realize what he means. “Oh.”

Your hands fall to your lap as he sits up and clambers out of bed, muttering, “gonna get changed.” He shuts the bathroom door behind him—for whatever reason, he’s not always comfortable with you seeing him changing or in the shower anymore—and you sit still for a few moments, processing what he just said. After over a month of listening to him express his desire to come home—begging you, even, in the beginning—you were unprepared to hear the opposite.

You shake your head slightly to try and clear it, then follow his lead, leaving the bed and changing out of your fancy clothes, trying not to think about how much you had been looking forward to wearing them to the restaurant.

Spencer remains quiet for the drive back to his treatment center, staring out the passenger side window, legs pulled into his chest. He mumbles a quick “bye” to you when you check him back in—no hug or kiss on the cheek like you’ve grown accustomed to. Instead he turns right back to the nurse and staff member running the process and asks, “Is Matt working tonight? I need to talk to him.”

At least he wants to talk to someone, you tell yourself as you leave, trying to soothe the sting caused by the fact that the someone isn’t you.

---

The next time you see him is six days later, on Friday evening. You’ve only talked once since Saturday, over the phone on Wednesday night, and it wasn’t a long call. He was upset about the horse therapy appointment being canceled that afternoon because of the weather—it had rained hard all day—and didn’t say much else. He ended the call before the ten minute mark, saying that he was tired and wanted to go lie down.

He also didn’t request a visit for the weekend—he either didn’t think his treatment team would approve it or he just didn’t want one. So you’re visiting him at the center today. You’ve brought dinner with you—you cooked one of his favorites yourself—but before you eat, you’re having an appointment with him and his therapist.

Spencer glances up only briefly when you enter the office, quickly looking back down. One of his knees is bouncing.

You sit down on the other side of the couch, looking between him and Lara in the chair across from you. “So, um, what’s going on?” you ask.

Spencer looks to Lara and she gives him an encouraging nod. He takes in a deep breath before speaking. “I… I wanted to talk to you about what ha—happened last week,” he says quietly, keeping his gaze on his lap.

You don’t know why exactly he wants to do it here, with his therapist, but wanting to talk about it at all is a good sign.. “Okay. I’m listening.”

“Right, um. Seeing… seeing JJ, it--” he stops abruptly, and his hands tremble slightly as he runs them down his thighs. “Sorry, doing… doing this is making me really anxious.”

“Take your time,” Lara says and you nod in agreement.

“Okay.” He runs his hands through his hair a few times before continuing. “Se—seeing her brought up emotions and, and memories I wasn’t ready to, um, confront. It… it really tri—triggered me.”

“Yeah, I could tell,” you say quietly.

Spencer grimaces at the words. He lifts his hand, puts it back down, then lifts it again and rubs at one of his eyes. “I…” he starts, then fixes his gaze on the floor and goes silent.

“(Y/N).” You tear your eyes from him and look at Lara. “Is there anything you’d like to say to Spencer about Saturday? Maybe what it was like for you?”

“Oh. Um.” You chew on your bottom lip for a moment. You’ve worried about how what you say could effect him since his relapse—one of your biggest fears is saying something that would drive him to use. But it’s stressful to keep up with, and with his therapist is probably the best place to start ridding yourself of your new habit of… well, of walking on eggshells around him.

“I think it would be good for him to know,” Lara says.

“Alright.” You lace your fingers together in your lap. “I guess it was just… startling to me. JJ’s your best friend and you’ve never acted that way to her. Or anyone, really, other than your father.”

Spencer stays silent, but flinches at the mention of his dad.

“Do you have anything to say to that?” Lara prompts. He shakes his head, so she looks back to you. “How did seeing Spencer like that make you feel?”

You take in a deep breath and let it out slowly; you’re a little scared to say, not wanting to make him feel worse. “It was… distressing. Especially when he got mad at me for getting rid of his Dilaudid. I know he doesn’t like having his things touched without permission but I don’t think it was reasonable to expect that I wouldn’t have done that.”

Lara nods. “That makes sense. But our feelings aren’t always logical.”

“Yeah, I understand. I guess I just wish he would have told me what was wrong instead of being silent--”

Spencer finally speaks up then, in protest. “I couldn’t help it!”

“I—I know that,” you argue back. “I just—I’m just telling you how I felt.”

He looks away, folding his arms and sinking further into the couch.

“Spencer,” Lara says gently. “You wanted to know how (Y/N) felt, remember? And we talked about how you were probably going to hear things you wouldn’t like.”

You blink, taken aback that this was his idea. And with that comes the realization of just how long it’s been since he’s asked how you’re feeling. Thinking back, you realize that the last time you had a conversation that wasn’t only focused on his feelings and well-being was the day you found him asleep and tied to his mother. This… it’s Spencer before prison.

You’re drawn out of your thoughts by him sighing and muttering, “Yeah, I remember.”

“Alright. Anything else?” Lara asks you.

There’s a lot else, you’re discovering, but you’re not sure you can unpack it all right now. “Maybe…” you say. “Maybe he could just tell me what I can do to help when he’s… triggered?”

“I don’t know,” he says dully, and when he catches the small frown on your face, insists, “I don’t.”

“Yet,” Lara adds.

He sighs again. “Yet,” he repeats.

“I know it’s frustrating,” she says. “Your solution to these kinds of feelings before was denial or using. A solution, not just a problem,” she emphasizes. “I want you both to try and think of it like that, and get comfortable with the fact that it’s going to take awhile to overcome those habits.”

A solution, not a problem. It’s… weird to think of his addiction that way, but you can try, so you give her a nod.

“Yeah, yeah,” Spencer mumbles. But behind the defensive body language, he just seems tired.

He seems to relax a little when the meeting wraps up and it’s only the two of you in one of the rooms used for visits. He remains quiet, but when you place the plate of food you dish him across the table from yours, he slides it back and sits in the chair beside you. “Sorry,” he whispers as soon as you take a bite of food.

“For what?” you ask once you’ve swallowed.

“For yelling at you on Saturday,” he says quietly. “I was upset but I shouldn’t have yelled.”

His leg is bouncing under the table; you put your hand on his knee to still it. “Apology accepted,” you say softly.

He shakes his head slightly. “You don’t have to. I was awful to you on Saturday.”

You frown at his skewed interpretation of events. “Spencer, you really weren’t. You yelled at me, yes, but other than that, you were fine.” And you’ve said much worse when you’ve been high.

“I ruined dinner. And don’t say it’s not a big deal,” he adds before you can speak. “You mentioned it every time we spoke in the week leading up to it. You were really excited about it, and I ruined it.”

Spencer’s read you like a book—that was exactly what you were going to say. “Yeah, I was really looking forward to it,” you admit. “And it sucked to have to cancel the reservations. But there will be other dinners, and it’s not like you did it on purpose.”

“But what if I did?” His voice is so quiet that you wouldn’t have heard him if he wasn’t right next to you.

“What do you mean?”

“I just mean…” he rocks slightly in his seat, which you immediately recognize as one of his self-soothing behaviors. You move your hand from his knee to his hair, lightly running your fingers through the curls covering the nape of his neck to try and help. His head tilts forward a little at your touch and after a brief silence, he continues. “I just mean that self-sabotage wouldn’t exactly be something new for me.”

“Oh.” You take your time considering it; he won’t believe you if you give in to your knee-jerk reaction to protest the negative feelings he harbors towards himself. But he grows agitated at your silence, rocking a bit harder and rubbing at his eye. You tug his hair lightly without really thinking about it in response.

“I’m just thinking,” you assure. “You deserve an honest, thought-out answer.”

After taking a deep breath, he nods. “Okay. I understand. Maybe you could just, uh… to help c--comfort…” He swallows and his voice drops back to a whisper. “Could you do that again?”

“Do what?”

“Um, pull… pull my hair. You did that a few moments ago. Please?”

You almost want to tease him—a year ago, you would have. But he’s been so timid and unsure when asking for any intimate touch other than cuddling since he got back from prison. You don’t want to discourage him from asking any more than he seems to be discouraging himself.

“Of course, baby,” you answer softly, and do just that. He closes his eyes and drops his head onto your shoulder. “As far as the self-sabotaging goes, you’re… not good at lying to me,” you muse. “And after six years with you, I feel like I’m pretty familiar with all the ways Spencer Reid self-sabotages. This never even crossed my mind until you brought it up, so I don’t see that as being what happened.”

You can’t tell if he believes you. A neutral “okay” is all you get from him, but at least he’s not outright disagreeing.

You gently pull his hair a few more times. “You should eat before it gets cold and we have to heat it up again.”

He takes the suggestion, picking his fork up, but you’ve never seen him less enthused about eating one of his favorite foods. He’s only cleared half of his plate when you’re done with all of yours.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

You can’t help but sigh at the habitual response, and consider your next words carefully. “Spencer, I don’t mean to be pushy, but you told me you were working on not dismissing people’s concern for you when they express it.”

“I am,” he mutters, but doesn’t say anything else, just continues to push his food around his plate aimlessly.

“Well, is something wrong with the food?” you ask. “Did I get the texture wrong, or--”

“No, no,” he interrupts, shaking his head. “It’s not the food. The food’s great. It’s… it’s me that’s the problem.”

Your eyebrows come together. “I don’t understand.”

“I…” He starts to blush. “I’m not eating it all because I think I need to lose some weight.”

“Don’t you dare,” you say immediately without thinking. He makes a startled noise at the same time you clap your hand over your mouth. You definitely don’t want him to lose weight, you just hadn’t meant for it to come out like that.

On the day he came home and agreed to treatment, you’d seen just how underweight he’d become as you helped him unbutton his shirt. The stark outline of his ribs against his skin had been scary, and you had no desire to see that again. It was a relief when he started to gain back what he’d lost in prison and afterwards. And you were happy to see him continue to put on even more than that.

You clear your throat. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to say it like that. You were just so skinny when you got here. You look good like this.”

“I’ve never weighed this much before,” he says, and the distress in his tone makes you think that this is a fact that has been bothering him for a while. “Some of my clothes are getting too tight.”

“We can buy you new clothes.”

“But we don’t know how much longer the insurance will cover my stay here. Residential treatment is expensive. We don’t need to be spending extra money on clothes when I could just lose the weight instead and not need them.”

“Hey.” You put your hand on his cheek. “I don’t want you to worry about money. The insurance is covering it for now. If they stop, that’s a problem to deal with when we get there. Just focus on getting better.”

He looks away from you, down to his lap. “I should still lose some weight,” he says eventually.

“Have you medical staff told you that?” you inquire, raising an eyebrow.

“No,” he admits with a sigh.

“Then you’re not allowed to worry about it,” you say firmly. “Finish your dinner.”

Spencer hesitates, but picks his fork back up. The corners of his mouth turn up just slightly when he starts eating again, telling you that despite his fretting, he’s happy not to stop himself from eating as much as he wants.

He seems to be in a much better mood at the end of the evening than he was when you arrived, though a bit more subdued and quieter than normal. He also appears to be very tired. It’s only 7:30 but he keeps yawning. He denies dozing off with his head on your shoulder while you were talking after dinner, but you’re sure he did.

During your parting hug, he nestles his face into your neck just like he always does when you’re sleeping in bed together. “Try and get some good sleep tonight,” you encourage, smoothing your hands down his back. “And Spencer?”

He pulls back to look at you and you settle your hands lightly on his waist. “I meant it, you know.” You squeeze slightly. “When I said you look good like this.”

It takes him a few moments to catch onto what you’re implying; when he does, his eyebrows shoot up and his breath catches. “Oh. O—okay. I’ll, um…” he glances down shyly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“You better.” You look over your shoulder as you leave, and the small smile he’s wearing prompts one of your own.

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

tell me what you thought here!

i'd like to put it out there that i don’t hate jj and i really hope it didn’t come across like that. i hadn’t even planned that scene; it just wrote itself. i promise it’ll be resolved before the end of this fic.

another shoutout to the book The Body Keeps the Score for helping immensely with the planning and writing of this. i literally have pages of notes from it.

you can also find irl pictures of spencer’s therapy horse here.

all we can do taglist: @thatsonezesty13 , @jhillio , @elitereid

general taglist: @calm-and-doctor

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds self insert #spencer reid #angst #my fic #tw substances #one day i'll write something that's short

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smarchit · 4 years

Text

Look Around, Look Around pt 6

Summary: You escaped an abusive marriage, pregnant with your husband’s child. He sends a bounty hunter after you to bring you back. Everything changes. Din Djarin/pregnant!reader, no use of y/n

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: Pregnancy/related topics, implied/referenced rape, mentions of abuse, blood, labor

Notes: Blown away by Tumblr’s response to this tbh. I’m absolutely overwhelmed by all the kind comments <3

He was supposed to take you back to Sorgan after that job. Supposed to take you back and let you spend the last few weeks of your pregnancy in comfort, let you give birth there in safety.

You managed to convince him to take you to a few more planets under the guise of wanting to see if there were any cities with salt baths that would help your swollen feet and legs. He knew you were lying through your teeth, but he never said anything one way or the other.

Now at a little over eight months pregnant and with your own gravitational pull, you walked through a vibrant market place of a large, exotic city during the height of their local fertility festival. You had been given baskets laden with blankets, food, and natural home remedies for easing the pain of birth.

People threw colorful powders and fragrant flowers in the streets at one another and it was extremely difficult not to get caught in their crossfire. You were certain that you were covered in vibrant color - you may have even been the target on more than one occasion because of your pregnancy. Not that you minded. You were having too much fun.

The little one was captivated by brightly colored dancers that spit fire in brilliant arcs across the path. The bells on their ankles caught his attention more and whenever one would cartwheel in front of his pod, he would make a grab for them, despite the gentle scolds from Mando.

You currently were sitting at a round patio table at an outdoor café. Lively music from a nearby band was muffled slightly by the crowd enough that you could speak without losing your voice.

"This is amazing!" you said to Mando, who looked incredibly out of place amidst bright colors and bare skin of the locals. He shifted in his seat and you knew he was scanning the crowd for potential threats. It wasn't personal, and it wasn't anything against the planet or its inhabitants, but more just who Mando was as a person.

Good gods, did the man ever relax?

Mando had ordered a cup of soup for the child, and expressed his displeasure for you turning down food.

"You need to eat something," he said firmly, straightening his back.

"I'm not hungry," you sighed. "The moon is currently displacing my vital organs."

"Your moon is exactly why you have to try to eat something," he said with a sigh. He shook his head and looked back over at the child, who was glancing between the two of you. When Mando looked at him, he smiled and babbled.

"She's moving around a lot in there today," you groaned, rubbing one side of your belly. "Take it easy, little moon. We're not going anywhere."

"Must be getting cramped in there," Mando hummed without looking back at you. He did another once over of the crowd and then sighed.

"What's wrong?" you asked.

He shrugged. "Just too crowded."

"Not a people-person, Mando?" you hummed.

"You wouldn't be either if you were me."

You supposed that was true. Even a few months ago you wouldn't have come to a place like this where bodies touched and jostled on either side of you. You got comfortable, but you imagined if you were in his boots, you would hate places like this. Too much chaos. Too many things that could go wrong.

"We should go," he said after a moment. He grabbed a basket and helped you to your feet before guiding you through a dip in the crowd.

It took a while to reach the hangar where the Crest was located due to the throng of bodies in your way.

Once you arrived back, Mando handed you a towel to wipe powder from your hair and clothes.

"The puck got activated," he said grimly as he locked the hatch.

You were shaking flower petals from your hair and the smile instantly dropped from your face.

"What?"

Mando turned to you. "I knew it was too easy. He let you go too easily for that to be the end of it."

You walked backwards until you found a seat and lowered yourself into it. Your heart pounded in your ears and you barely registered his words.

Your husband knows exactly where you are.

He knew what you were doing, where you were going, he might even know where you planned on giving birth. Would he attack then? When you were raw and vulnerable, bed soaked in your blood and eyes wild with instinct?

Like a caged animal. Though injured animals will do anything to protect themselves.

"Hey, hey, don't give out on me," Mando said loud enough to draw you from your fear. He grabbed your shoulders and shook you gently so you would look at him. "You're safe with me, okay? I'm not going to let him take you."

"Why is he-- Why is he doing this?" you whispered as you felt tears start to fall. You could barely speak. The thought of him finding you touching you, putting his hands on you... On your baby. It made you sick. It made you scared. It made you angry.

"Because he's a coward," Mando said softly, guiding your face back to look at him when you glanced away. "He's small; he has to hurt others to feel better. You are safe. You and your moon." He placed a warm hand on your belly. The baby flip flopped in response.

"Please don't let him get me," you begged. "Promise me. Not me. Not my baby."

Mando looked at you and nodded. "I promise." He leaned up on his knees and pressed his forehead to yours. He held the position for a moment before he got to his feet.

"We're leaving this planet right now," he said. He picked up the baby and set him back in his pod and turned to set coordinates.

"Where will we go?" you asked, suddenly feeling like the smallest person in the galaxy. "Where will we go that he can't find us?"

"I have a few places in mind," he said as the ship dragged itself out of the planet's atmosphere. "Safe places."

"Sorgan?" you asked hopefully.

He paused for a minute. "Sorgan isn't safe. If he knows you were there he'll have people there waiting."

You held on tight as he punched in the coordinates for some unknown planet in on the pad.

What would you do if it came down to capture and return?

You couldn't help but cry. You looked down at your stomach and cupped both hands around it.

"I'm so sorry, little one," you whispered.

***

A few hours later, Mando dropped the ship out of hyperspace. A planet lay before you, dark and unfriendly looking in the blackness of space. There were a few lights from cities spread out in the far reaches of the large sprawling continent, but beyond that, you could see nothing.

"What is this place?" you asked.

"Arvala-7," he replied. "I had a... Friend who lived here. Worked on a moisture farm. Helped me with the kid."

"He doesn't live here anymore?" you asked, forcing yourself out of your seat with difficulty. You ignored the pain in your belly and back - normal for this late in your pregnancy. False labor couldn't detract from your fears right now.

"He died," Mando said softly.

"I'm sorry."

He didn't reply and started the deceleration to land in a remote section of desert.

"You should be safe here," he said as he lowered the hatch for the two of you to step out.

"Should be?"

He nodded. "Should be."

"How could he find me?" you asked softly as Mando set about shouldering open the long-locked front door.

"Tracking pucks," he grunted, throwing his whole body against the door. He let out a rather undignified cry as he fell inside when the lock finally gave way and the door banged open. When he stood he fished one out of his pocket and held it out in his palm to you. It flashed a rapid red as it neared you. "That's how."

"Why now?" you asked. Rage welled up in your heart at the thought of this vile man getting a hold of you again.

"Probably just wants to scare you," he said as he set about tidying the little house up. "Knows that baby is coming soon. Just wants to stress you out more."

As if on cue, a particularly rough false contraction hit and you vaulted forward to grip the edge of the table. You arched your back, hoping to alleviate some of the pressure.

"Oh, kriff," you gasped, gritting your teeth. You squeezed your eyes shut and took a few deep breaths in and out. "Maker, I don't want to know how bad the real thing is gonna be."

"You won't be alone," Mando said softly as he placed a hand on your back.

"Yeah, well," you gasped, "No offense, but have you ever delivered a baby?"

Mando was quiet.

"Yeah, didn't think so."

"You'll be fine," he assured. "Sit. I'm gonna go look around, see what we can salvage and use."

You sighed and nodded. "If you need help, let me know. Sometimes walking helps with the pain."

He looked around at the state of the main living room. "Okay. Here, I'm gonna fix the bed. You go and get the blankets from the ship. Take a few trips if they're heavy."

You took the key from him and started back towards the ship, a hand grasping your belly. It's okay, my moon.

As you boarded the ship and headed towards the bedroom, you heard what sounded like voices from the cockpit. Taunting voices drifted down the ladder and through the corridor to you, though you couldn't make out what was being said. As your heart hammered away in your chest, you tiptoed to the ladder to ascend to the cockpit.

It became obvious to you as soon as you breached the top of the ladder that the voices were on a recording, an old transmission that must've automatically started playing when the ship picked up a bio feedback on board.

"...don't worry, Mando. We just want the little whore you been travelling with. Not that ugly kid," a low voice growled up at you from the holopad. A thin blue image of a burly, bald man was staring up at you and illuminating the otherwise dark cockpit. "Ain't got nothin' to worry about with us. In and out, like always. She got a good price out on her, and with that baby intact, there's a double offer on 'em. So we call it even, got it? Besides, Xi'an misses you."

Your heart was pounding in your throat as you sank into the pilot's chair. Mando was right. People were looking for you.

A chilling thought entered your mind and no matter how much you tried, you couldn't shake it.

Did Mando turn you in?

You broke out in a cold sweat as you glanced around the cockpit for something that could be used as a weapon. If he knew that you saw this message...

Maybe he didn't have to know you saw it. After all, he just sent you in here to get the bedding. He wouldn't know... You hit delete, hoping maybe he wouldn't find out about it.

You quickly descended the ladder and retrieved some of the bedding and carried it down the ramp of the ship.

Mando was tending to the moisture tanks a little way away from the house and you eyed him warily. It was the first time in six months you had not trusted him.

Why would he wait until now? Were he and his friends waiting to literally snatch the baby from between your legs and drag you by your hair, kicking and screaming to your ex-husband, a bloody trail dragging behind you?

Mando wouldn't do that. You knew he wouldn't. So why now were you so afraid? Was it just the mounting anxiety of new motherhood catching up to you?

You busied yourself as best you could while you waited for him to come back to the house, both by trying to clean up all the dust that gathered and by watching the baby.

He had been uneasy the last few days, especially around you. He would babble softly and reach for you to pick him up, which you had been having trouble doing due to the fact that you could barely bend over.

One time he cried so hard and so loud that Mando ended up taking him for a walk off the ship until he fell asleep so your breasts would stop leaking and soaking through your shirt.

The lights came on automatically a few hours later and were droning steadily for half an hour by the time Mando came back inside

"So bad news," he said with a tired sigh as he dropped into a chair at the rickety kitchen table. "Moisture tanks are busted to hell. Looks like Jawas scavved the machinery. I tried to salvage what I could but no luck."

"What are we going to do?" you asked softly.

Mando shrugged. "Gonna have to go find somewhere. We're gonna need a lot of it, especially when that baby decides to make an appearance."

"Should I come with y--"

"No. You're gonna stay here," he said firmly. "I'll leave my gun and a knife for you."

"You're going to leave?" you asked, heart racing.

"I'll only be gone a couple of hours," he said, getting to his feet. He unholstered his blaster and took a knife from his sheath. "Safety is off on that. Use it like I taught you if something happens, okay?"

He handed them both to you and picked up the baby. "I'll leave the ship. If anyone comes, you go inside and you lock that door. Nothing on this planet will get inside. I'll be back by morning."

Mando came over to you and cupped his hand around the back of your head and pulled you close to press his forehead against yours. Second time he's done that...

He seemed hesitant to pull away from you. He placed the baby in his pod and looked back at you, his shoulders tense and squared.

"You'll be safe here. I promise," he said as he opened the door. "I'm gonna take the kid with me. You need to take it easy and he'll just be upset the whole time."

You looked at him, eyes wide with fear as you watched him leave.

For a moment, you debated telling him about the message on his ship. But you knew then he wouldn't leave - and you needed water. Washing, cleaning, sanitation, drinking. A lot of water was necessary, especially if you were going to be here for a while.

He shut the door behind him and you waited a few minutes before you got up and shoved a broom through the door handle, effectively locking it from the inside. If you needed to escape out the back door, it would buy you a moment of time.

He knows where I am. He knows I'm with the Mandalorian... He knows that I am alone.

You had to do something to keep your mind busy and off of the thought of being taken back to evil himself. It wasn't easy, and you desperately wished that he left the baby. He was right though. You needed to rest and sleep as much as you possibly could.

You also wished that you brought something to do to distract you from the excruciating pain that was now tearing itself through your lower body. As quickly as you could, you ran to the section of the abandoned homestead that had once been used to repair the moisture tanks, both now stripped bare of essentials. A passing knowledge of some of how some of this stuff works comes in handy every now and then. You had a timer fastened together in no time, set to beep once a minute. It would keep you alert, at least.

As you made your way back to the main part of the house, the pain subsided. You allowed yourself to eat part of the food that Mando had brought in, hoping that would quell the gnawing feeling in your stomach.

The baby turned and shifted as the night went on, even as you bedded down to for the evening.

Sleep didn't come easy that night for you and as you lay awake in the darkness of Arvala-7. All you could do was hope that you wouldn't be alone when the baby came.

***

Mando wasn't back the next morning. He wasn't there to help you out of bed, or to call you me'suum. The Crest was still there though, which brought a little comfort to you that he hadn't simply abandoned you on this desert planet to die of thirst.

He didn't come back by lunchtime.

Or dinner.

Or long after the lights came on.

You found a small leather skin under the bed that had about a day's worth of water in it. It was warm and had a bit of a sandy grit to it, but you drank deeply from it all the same.

That night, in the early hours of the morning, your waters broke.

And you were utterly alone.

***

TAGLIST (let me know if you want to be added!):

@miscellaneous-mando @lestrange2703 @someplace-darker @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @poeticparker @blackbird337 @the-last-twin-of-krypton @divineangelix @c1996 @mell-bell @qhbr2013 @bookszazzy @marvelbros-oneshots @cuteboyking @boomtownboy @connor-challoner @fandom-lover-4 @itsmysticalmystery @love-struck-aries

#my writing #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian fic #the mandalorian #no use of y/n #look around fic

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hawkeyedflame · 3 years

Note

Okay! This is all from memory so forgive me if I've forgotten something.

Starting with Roy: while I still maintain that he's a himbo, I think he's more complicated than I initially gave him credit for. When I sent the previous essay I was fully expecting him to go from this morally gray Dirty Harry style government figure to the white knight hero who saves the day and becomes a saint, but he maintained his moral ambiguity, which i REALLY appreciate in a character. A common theme throughout the show is being haunted by your past, and Roy is no exception, while he might have justified his actions at the time with the guise of doing his duty and patriotism he always knew what he did was wrong, and this ate away at him more and more as time went on. And to find out the atrocities you committed were not justified, but in fact utterly evil? Devastating. That's why I think the confrontation with Envy is so powerful, not only did Envy start the war, but they also killed Roy's best friend, and this truly set Roy off the rails. Perhaps he thought that by destroying Envy he could somehow vindicate himself. But that's not true, if Roy lost himself down in the tunnels he would only have spiraled downwards out of control, and it took a guiding hand to bring him back from the edge.

Speaking of, Riza! When I first spoke of her I Thought she was just a cool lady with guns, now I see that she's more than just a cool lady with guns, she's another example of a broken individual just trying to do the right thing. I think she's had a hard life, I can't imagine growing up with an alchemist father was easy, especially when his subject of choice was so dangerous, but then to have said dangerous work permanently marked on her own skin and told to keep it secret is tragic. It must have taken so long to precisely tattoo on her, and longer yet for Roy to study it. She must've trusted him enough to allow him to study it, so I imagine her thinking "did I make a big mistake?" upon seeing Roy use flame alchemy during the war. Speaking of the war, Riza appeared to be very young when she was involved, which is also tragic. It's like she had her youth and Innocence ripped away by forces she couldn't control. And while Roy might have had a higher body count, Riza was a sniper which meant she had a more...intimate relationship with the atrocities she committed. This is reflected in the scene where she buried a person she killed and asked Roy to disfigure her back to rid the world of her father's burden. She felt it was her mistake. Another very powerful, defining scene. Her father's work, the war, that moment, all stuck with her for the years after. Changed her. She clearly became very close with Roy during the war and they decided that they had to stick by one another.

To touch on their relationship very briefly, I honestly don't have the words to describe how just PERFECT their relationship is tbh. Like, their relationship inspired me to alter how I portray the relationship between two of my own characters, so that should tell you how much I like them. The dynamic is just great!

anon i love you, but you understand that himbos are like.. dumb and nice, right? roy is pretty much a genius and like.. he's not very nice, despite being a good person. i concede that, at times, he absolutely radiates himbo energy, but he is NOT a himbo. i will throw hands with you on this hill.

also, yes i completely agree that i prefer he was not relegated to a boring white knight. he is much more interesting as a man seeking redemption than a man absolved of his past. the confrontation with envy is easily the most impactful moment of any piece of media i've ever engaged with, personally. the life-and-death stakes of that moment were so unconventional compared to life-and-death in other stories. in most stories, the danger of death is coming from the opponent the hero is fighting. you're on the edge of your seat because you don't know if your protag is going to dodge the attacks, find the opening to strike, and be able to finish the job. but roy has already won. he has overpowered envy with very little effort and reduced him to his weakest and most helpless state. the danger is not from his opponent here. in this moment, the greatest threat to roy's life is his own hatred. we don't want him to finish the job; it would mean his own undoing if he did. we ache for the pain that he is in, but we also know deep down that riza is right, that what he is about to do will bring him to a place where nobody, not even she, can reach him. and it hurts so badly, because what brought roy to such unbelievable hatred is the unmitigated intensity of his love. because we all love. and to see such love turn into such hate is to see a crossroads in our own souls, the choice between hatred and grief. i am certain that choosing grief is the more difficult path, and i cannot imagine the state of his heart and soul in that moment.

as for riza.. god.. she fucking kills me, man. it's not in the anime, but in the manga when she tells edward about ishval, she tells him that she was brought to the front lines when she was in her final year of the academy. so she was about 20, maybe 21, when she was taking part in a genocide. as a cadet. the unfortunate thing about it is that she didn't actually have her innocence quite ripped away without her control, not as she sees it at least. she maintains that she made the decision on her own to join the military, and she knew she would have to kill people. she says she has no right to see it as a burden. i think this is partially because of her own body count, but also because she feels responsible for every single ishvalan who died at roy's hand. i cannot imagine her feelings when she first sees roy there. in the manga, she actually saves him and hughes from an ishvalan assailant, and then hughes brings roy to meet his savior, and that's how they reunite. it is not clear whether riza was aware of roy's presence on the front lines via rumors, or if that moment where she rescued him was the first time she knew of his being there. either way, it's fucking tragic to realize that the boy you trusted because he told you of his naïve dreams for the future turned out to be using the powers you've given him to kill thousands of innocent people. even after she speaks with him, finds out he feels the same way she does about the war.. i simply cannot fathom the war inside of her over how she feels about him throughout the war. i have to wonder if him agreeing to burn her tattoo off was what convinced her that she could still trust him. and then she goes on to stay in the military, at his side, in spite of everything she went through and knowing there will be more to come. she bears this guilt by his side; even though she could have walked away, she would not have found rest in a civilian life, not after everything she did, the things she facilitated. she tells roy, in the manga when she reports to his office after graduating from the academy, that she likes guns because she doesn't have to feel her victims die. roy tells her this is nothing more than self deception, and she tells him she knows, and that she will continue to deceive herself for his sake, so that he can reach his goals.

and their relationship....god. i could cry. i have never loved a fictional relationship with anywhere even approaching the intensity of my love for royai. it's just so... fucking good ksjdfhgjksdhfksud like... god. the tenderness, the trust.. the fact that they literally have already been through hell and would go there again for one another willingly. the absolute dedication. the fact that they know each other so well, when riza hesitates for only a fraction of a moment, roy knows immediately that something is terribly wrong. all the little looks they give each other. god. just. GOD. damn it. i love their love so much.

#Anonymous #long post #fmab #fma talk #royai #roy mustang #riza hawkeye #otp: even into hell #sorry for longposting back at you but you Activated me... so...

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lizacstuff · 3 years

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Selin is the worst, but that episode was good (ep 37 asks)

The last ask down below has spoilers for 38

(asks under the cut)

Anonymous said: Selin should honestly teach a class on gaslighting because I swear I've never seen another character willing to manipulate someone THIS much just so they weren't happy.

Every time you think it’s not possible for her to go lower, she rents a backhoe and starts digging.

They obviously never had sex in Slovenia, but she’s willing to lie and gaslight and manipulate him into thinking it happened when he was so out of it while recovering from injuries sustained in a PLANE CRASH and had amnesia.

So lets break that down. IF she had had sex with him while he was so sick, pain-riddled and groggy from a brain injury (and other physical injuries) that it’s now foggy enough for him that he doesn’t remember, that is rape. There is no way he could consent under those circumstances. Not only that but he had amnesia and had forgotten both that he had a fiancé and had kicked Selin out of his life. Good grief, this woman is so willing to lie and manipulate him into thinking he’s the father, that’s she confessing to a rape that didn’t happen, rather than just living the truth with Deniz???

That is so SICK.

This was a great episode, but if she doesn’t get what’s coming to her, I will scream. At least after this Serkan’s blinders will be off when it comes to her. (I mean it is pretty humiliating that she was engaged to a man who wouldn’t touch her, and Serkan is going around shouting that he didn’t touch her, but still, there needs to be more than that.)

Anonymous said: they really threw me for a loop when they had eda tell serkan about the pregnancy like 2/3rds of the way through the episode. i was really expecting her to say it in her letter (btw, how heartbreaking was her letter jesus) serkan immediately denying it and saying it was impossible was exactly what everyone needed! i never had a doubt in my mind tbh.. but selin is REALLY psychotic by STILL manipulating him and the fact he was sick and out of it while in slovenia.

That shocked me as well. I didn’t expect it, though am glad they did it this way. I was thinking it wouldn’t be possible because I KNEW Serkan would be able to say “It’s impossible, I was never with her” and thought that would be the end of it, but this was well done. I know it was frustrating for some in the audience that Eda wasn’t communicating with him, BUT she eventually did. She ended up telling him the same day she was sure of the information. I think that is an acceptable amount of time. So there is growth there and she didn’t up and leave without him knowing her real reasons. Also we got the satisfaction of him saying no it’s impossible AND the angst of there being enough doubt because of Selin’s sick manipulations (and willingness to confess to raping him) that we got THAT letter and the magnificent end sequence.

THIS is the good kind of angst. This is the good kind of drama. They’ve put us through weeks and weeks of bad angst and bad drama, so while this episode had heavy emotions hanging over it, it was far easier to watch than most we’ve had.

I’m laughing that the writers finally pulled a top to bottom quality episode out of their bag of tricks (after weeks of failure) right as we’re on the verge of another writer shakeup.

Serkan is back! That’s the character i love. We haven’t seen him since he said goodbye in 28. I hope he sticks around.

YES! Hoşgeldiniz, Serkan Bolat!

This did feel like the old Serkan. He did a lot of things right this episode. I absolutely loved that through the whole thing he was focused on Eda and doing everything in his power to make her feel comfortable, safe and loved. She had just rejected, in front of everyone, his marriage proposal and yet he was only focused on making sure she was okay. He was so loving and the writers finally found the romantic robot within him, you know, the guy who spouts heart-stoppingly romantic lines without even thinking. I was afraid we’d lost that guy for good.

Kerem was wonderful in this episode, he did such a great job. As did Hande, but while 29 was her episode, I felt like this one was his. Serkan was on the edge of a breakdown the whole episode, he was frantic, he was in-love, he was heartbroken and thanks to Kerem’s performance we could feel all of it.

Oh, and on a side note, how I want that vacation in the Maldives for Eda and Serkan. They deserve it.

Anonymous said: THAT ENDING WAS ABSOLUTE PERFECTION HANDS DOWN BEST OF THE SERIES I FUCKING KNEW THEYD DO THE SOULMATE HEART THING!!!! IN FACT BEST EPISODE OF THE SERIES BC THE ANGST WAS SO GOOD WTF (okay maybe not the best episode ever but I’m not calm rn)

That ending was sooooo good, probably up there with 1, 5, 11 and 26 for me.

The whole time, I was on the edge of my seat, holding my breath. The running, Eda looking at the Little Prince book, her heart pains, Serkan in pain, but so focused on getting to Eda. I love, love, love the soulmate heart thing. The fact that she was experiencing pain, but she didn’t know why, that’s the goods right there.

I also really love that while she was helped along by her heart pain, she made the decision herself to turn around. She’s ultimately following her own heart, which didn’t want to leave and knew it wasn’t the right course of action. We all know Serkan could have convinced her to stay if he reached her, but this way it’s fully her own decision and that will ultimately make them stronger.

Anonymous said: They were really going for the ep 11 parallels this ep more than I thought they would. By Eda "feeling sick" and them bringing back The Little Prince.. The last scene was honestly soooo good. The emotion, the music, the angst of it all! Totally lived up to my expectations.. I just KNEW they would bring back the "connected hearts/soulmate" thing they had going on and have Eda turn around.. I'm so excited for what's next.. have you by chance seen the tattoo spoilers?

Definitely episode 11 feels, which was another episode with the right kind of angst. So many good Edser scenes in this episode.

All the scenes in the loft were gold, in different ways. From the fun scenes of them in the kitchen making pizza (once again both Serkan and Kerem being willing to eat “after” someone else, lmao) to the heart-stopping romance of him taking care of her when she was sick and telling her he will love her forever to the angst and longing of their “last” night together. I need to go rewatch all of them!

Yes, I saw those tattoo spoilers. An infinity symbol made from their initials E x S I ‘bout fainted when I saw them on their ring fingers! And then in the episode when Serkan said “I love you to infinity.” Oh man, my heart.

So what does this mean? Because we saw them with those tattoos while they were dressed in the same outfits from the airport. Does he recover from his PTSD/panic attack and they go directly to a tattoo parlor/wedding venue? I mean... what is happening? Did they elope, or just get the rings as a promise?

In any case, I think it’s amazing. What a wonderful way to solve the conundrum of their rings and which ones to use and worrying about them being cursed. Can’t wait to see how it comes about.

#sen cal kapimi #sck spoilers #edser #Sen Çal Kapımı #sck 1x37 #edser discussion #sckask #sck episode discussion #asklizac #anti selin #anonymous

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mycupoffanfiction · 5 years

Text

His Second Chance Part 1

Bucky x Reader

His Second Chance Masterlist

Bucky comes back from Wakanda with Steve, ready to begin his recovery from his days as the Winter Soldier, but there’s one thing he doesn’t take into account - you.

Warnings: Language, anxiety, angst (maybe closer to just sadness rather than angst tbh), sliiightly smutty thoughts, fluff.

I suggest checking the HSC Masterlist for a full list of warnings for the series.

Word count: Approx 1900

Masterlist

Hi! Here’s the new series! The next part of A Real Sweet Guy is coming up within the next few days, maaaybe tonight if I can get on with the finishing touches this evening! I reeeaaaally hope you all like this one, I had the idea a while ago and I’ve had the concept floating about for ages!

Please let me know what you think since this is a new series! Please don’t hesitate to leave suggestions or thoughts! TAG LIST IS OPEN!

_____________________________

Small footsteps padding down the hallway, a soft hum to a rock song that blasted in your ears, occasionally mouthing the words as you walked along. Your mug from earlier was clutched in your hands, now empty and ready to get an evening hot chocolate. You’d had to borrow Sam’s mug because someone had stolen yours. Definitely not Sam…

Soft black leggings, your butt shaped beautifully with the garment, a little crop top on your top half. A large oversized Captain America hoodie over your shoulders, the sleeves shoved up to your elbows. It had been a secret Santa present, but you’d be lying if you said you hated it. You fucking loved it. So cosy and warm and it had the shield of your favourite and only super soldier printed on the front.

You walked out into the living space of the floor you shared with Steve and Sam, your two best friends. You looked down, threading some of your hair behind your ear as you walked across the wooden flooring to the kitchen. You looked up, two hulking figures in the shadows of the unlit room and you paused, mug tumbling to the ground, smashing at your sock clad feet. The light flicks on and not one, but two super soldiers stand in the living room.

Bucky.

Steve and Bucky were finally home. “Steve?” You asked, voice small and quiet as you pulled an earbud out of your ear. “Sorry we scared you sweetie.” He chuckled walking towards you. You glanced down to see the mug in pieces at your feet and back up at the two soldiers. Shit, Sam’s gonna hate you. “Sergeant Barnes.” You greeted him, small smile on your lips. “Bucky.” He corrected, voice gruff and low, almost too quiet to hear. “Right, Bucky.” You nodded, awkwardly looking away from his intense stare. His bright blue eyes bore into you, it made you feel like you were exposed to him, naked, like he could see everything about you just by staring at you like that. You swallowed thickly as you studied his messy long brown hair tucked behind his ears, the way his shirt hugged his muscles, the glint of that beautiful metal arm in the artificial light.

“Bucky is staying on our floor.” Steve announced, smiling softly. “Oh, okay.” You nodded before kneeling down to pick up the remains of Sam’s mug. Serves him right for stealing yours. “Next to your room.” Steve added, pointing in the general direction of the spare room that was situated right next to yours. “I hope you like your room, Bucky.” You smiled up at him as you collected the mug pieces into your hands, careful not to hurt yourself before you turned away to bin the pieces. You had no response from the soldier and you stood in the kitchen doorway as you watched the two men leave the room, that icy cold stare lingering on you for a moment until Bucky had to catch up with Steve.

Damn she was cute. Bucky trailed after Steve. You stared too much, you idiot, she probably thinks you’re weird. He huffed, causing Steve to look over his shoulder at him. “You alright, bud?” He asked as they passed your bedroom door and approached his. “Yeah.” He mumbled a reply. No, you just made a fool out of yourself in front of a cute girl. What was she wearing? Right, a Captain America Hoodie. God how he wished it was the only thing you wer- Stop! Stop it Barnes! Jesus, get your head out of the gutter. “Here we are!” Steve announced, pushing the door to his room open. The room was simple and clean but decorated nicely. Bucky took a tentative step in, eyes instantly flicking to window, the bathroom door to the right, his intense stare scanning the room for possible entries and exit ways. “Remember to ask FRIDAY if you need anything.” Steve patted his shoulder, taking a few steps back. “I’ll let you settle in, I’m opposite you, (Y/n) is next door. I really suggest you get to know her, she’s quiet, sweet, very fun shy girl.” Steve grinned as he talked about you, looking down the hall at you. Bucky peaked around the doorframe to see what Steve was looking at.

You. He didn’t recognise the song you were half humming, half singing along to, but you were really getting into it, your butt swaying a little as you moved to lean against the back of the sofa, the grind and whir of the hot drinks machine in the background could be heard as you waited for your drink to pour. Pretty little butt. No, stop it Barnes. Before Bucky realised, he’d made a little grunt and Steve was looking at him expectantly. “Just be gentle with her.” Steve went on. “She’s really shy sometimes, get’s very anxious, she sometimes gets panic attacks and is quite sensitive to confrontation and loud voices, just be careful, alright?” Steve smiled, clapping his hand on his shoulder. “Night Buck.” He said over his shoulder as he returned to his room, Bucky’s stare lingering on you for a moment.

“Morning!” You beamed at the long haired super soldier as you sat at the island in the kitchen, hugging Steve tightly. You had missed your best friend so much that now you just wanted to catch up on the attention you’d missed, not to mention the slightly panicky feeling you’d woken up with, so this was a good way of helping you to calm down. “Uh.” Bucky stared at you both, Steve chuckling at Bucky’s confusion. “We usually cuddle in the morning.” Steve smiled at his best friend as Sam entered the kitchen. “Right.” Bucky nodded. He just wanted you on his lap hugging him the way you were hugging Steve, your sweet little giggles and smiles as you enjoyed the attention. Maybe if he got closer to you, he could have that too. No. You’d just hurt her, Barnes. Look at her and look at yourself, she wouldn’t want to be like that with you. Bucky growled at his thoughts, startling you. He hadn’t realised you’d sidled up beside him to get a mug from the cupboard and now you were backing away, eyes wide. You thought he was growling at you. Great. Fucking. Job.

“Anyone seen my mug?” Sam asked, walking around the kitchen as he peered in all of the cupboards. You blushed a little, glancing over at Steve and Sam, trying to hide the guilt on your face. You opened your mouth to say something, but your voice didn’t come out, someone else spoke for you. “I broke your dumb mug.” Bucky said gruffly, slamming his bowl down onto the counter top. You looked over at him, surprised he’d taken the blame for you and you mouthed ‘thank you’ to him, a little nod of his head said that it was alright. “You’ve been here one night and you’re already breaking my stuff?” Sam scoffed. “Half my stuff breaks because miss clumsy over here can’t not break things to save her life.” Sam said sarcastically and over dramatically, throwing his arms up. You looked straight ahead at the counter, Bucky’s heart aching a little when you started to react like you were actually being told off. “Sam.” Steve’s voice was stern as he noticed your behaviour. “She’s always so clumsy-.” Sam went on, playful tone in his voice as he teased, thinking you knew he wasn’t actually mad. You couldn’t help that you were clumsy. “Sam.” Steve raised his voice, head nodding in your direction. You stood silently, bright red cheeks, breathing slightly uneven, lips parted. “I broke your mug, Sam. I’m sorry.” Was the only thing you said, just above a whisper before you reached into your pocket and pulled out your earbuds, popping them both in and blasting music to drown out the people around you. You weren’t exactly tipping over the edge of anxiety, but had it not been for your panicky feeling that morning, perhaps you wouldn’t have reacted so badly. You hated the idea of disappointing people, of making them mad at you and while you knew Sam was joking, it still got to you.

“I didn’t mean to…” Sam trailed off, gesturing loosely at you. “I know, she knows that.” Steve reassured him. “You know she’s a little fragile about that sorta thing.” Steve went on, knowing you couldn’t hear him judging by the muffled sound of Red Hot Chili Peppers from your earbuds. Bucky’s eyes didn’t leave your figure. You slumped over yourself. Steve hadn’t been lying when he said your anxiety was bad.

Bucky sat at the island, you opposite at Steve’s side, shoulders touching as you were almost leaning up against him. You seemed a lot calmer now, sipping on your coffee, your pink lips pursed around the rim of the mug, your large, fluttery eyelashes, the way your hair fell so beautifully. Bucky just wanted to reach out and touch it, it looked so soft, so smooth, but he knew he shouldn’t. It had taken everything in him to not pull you into a crushing hug earlier when your anxiety reared its ugly head.

“(Y/n).” Sam put his hand on your shoulder, but you just turned in your seat and wrapped your arms around him. “We’re all good.” You whispered. “I’m still sorry that I broke your mug.” You said quietly. “That’s okay, I kinda stole yours, so I guess we’re even.” He chuckled, hugging you back. Bucky loved how touchy you were, but he wasn’t sure he was ready for that, but he really wanted to be. He really, really wanted to have you greet him with warm hugs, cuddle with him the way you do with the other two boys, hold his hand like he’d seen you do with Steve earlier when you were trying to calm yourself down.

“Did you have enough to eat?” You asked, voice still small as you looked up at Bucky. He hesitated for a moment. “Bucky, you can eat however much you want, when you want, promise no one will get mad. Well I might get a little annoyed if you don’t tell me when you finish something because I’m the poor gal who’s gotta go grocery shopping for three soldiers.” You giggled, pushing items of breakfast food towards him. “I know how much a super soldier eats and I know from your tiny bowl of cereal that it wasn’t enough.” You pointed out. You were right, Bucky knew it. But he appreicated your efforts with him. A scowl rested on his face. He wanted to say thank you, but all that came out was a gruff grunt and you looked up at him confused. “Right, I- I’ll just go.” You backed away, leaving Bucky alone in the kitchen. Bucky sighed as he poured more cereal into his bowl. Well done Barnes, she probably thinks you hate her.

“Hey, you alright?” Steve asked, poking you in the side as you sat curled up on the sofa. “I think Bucky doesn’t like me too much.” You spoke quietly. “Oh.” Was all Steve could say. Yep, she definitely thinks you hate her. Bucky overheard from around the corner. “I know I shouldn’t, but I really just wanna give him a hug and tell him it’ll be okay.” You sigh, Bucky’s heart swelling as he listened from the hallway. How is she so goddamn sweet? Can’t get too close to her, you’ll hurt her Barnes. She’s too sweet and fragile for you. Bucky thought to himself, moving away to his bedroom before he could overhear more.

He wished he could be close to you. But he couldn’t.

______________________

Permanent Tags:

@shygirl-00 @swanlakemikey@scuzmunkie @paintballkid711@lovelylilia @mapreza1 @love-bucky-3000 @cals-cigarette

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flamehairedwritings · 5 years

Text

Lost In Hawkins

FOR HALLOWE’EN 2019

Characters: Chief Jim Hopper x Female Reader

Words: 9,719, phew

Rating: M, 16+ ONLY

A/N: This story is inspired by the wonderful ITV series ‘Lost In Austen’, an idea I’ve had for a while and my own fantasies, tbh. Crack? AU? Angst? All of them? What is genre?

Tags include: Swearing, lots of it, and mentions of a drink being drugged.

Summary: Your Hallowe’en night takes an unexpected turn.

Masterlist

Please don’t copy, steal or repost my work; credit does not count.

“Get the fuck away from me, you shitting shit-bag.”

“Jesus, Meg—”

“No, I am not having a heart-attack tonight.”

You purse your lips slightly in an effort to stop a smile as she all but bares her teeth at the poor teenager dressed as a clown, decidedly less scarier than when he’d jumped out at you both with his now stunned expression.

Nearly growling, she pushes through plastic sheets and you follow after her, secretly delighted when she finds the nearest exit and you step out into fresh, open air.

“God, don’t people know what personal space is anymore?”

Manoeuvring past a group of smokers, Meg blows out a long breath as you adjust your corset, stepping towards the only nearest free space on the worn grass.

You hum in agreement as you join her. “I think a space capacity code is being violated here.”

“You can say that again.”

The cool air of the night feels wonderful, the Fun House having been stifling with sweat, paint and something you don’t want to know having filled the air. Pulling the white blouse off your shoulders from where it has ridden up, you turn to her with a nostalgic sigh.

“Remember when we used to just throw sheets on, walk around the block to get free candy and then be in bed by 8?”

“Yeah. Those were the days,” Meg also sighs, folding her arms with a wistful smile. “But, hey, this is what happens when you get peer pressured by colleagues.”

“Well, I was ready and raring for this two hours ago and now I’m just... tired.”

“I think we’re old now, darling.”

“I’m ready to accept it.”

“Me, too.” Huffing out another breath, she casts her gaze around. “I only really wanted to come because Elvira’s here.”

You arch an eyebrow. “That’s not been confirmed.”

“It has.”

“By who?”

“Aaron.”

“Aaron Watkins? He once told me moose aren’t real.”

“He said that when we were sixteen.”

“Far too old an age to be saying things like that.”

“He was joking... I hope.”

“He certainly wasn’t joking.” Clearing your throat, you shiver lightly and rub your arms, the once welcomed cool air now just cold. “Anyway, I think I’m gonna head home.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I think the week’s caught up with me.”

“All right, how are you gonna get home?”

“Well, I can’t afford a taxi so I’ll get the bus.”

“Do you want to die?” Meg gapes at you incredulously.

“If I die on Hallowe’en, don’t I get to walk the Earth on this day every year? How fun.”

“I’d rather you walked it 365 days a year. I will give you money for a cab.”

“No, Meg, c’mon,” you protest, shaking your head as she reaches for her purse. “It’s going to cost too much, it’s too far. I’ll get the bus, there’ll be other people on it, it’s a busy night, and I’ll text you every five minutes, I promise.”

“Fine. but text me discreetly,” she orders as she pulls you in for a hug. “I don’t want people seeing you with your phone out and then wanting to steal it. And call me when you get off the bus and you’re walking home, I mean it.”

“I will, I will. Love you.” You beam at her as she finally releases you.

“Love you, too. Please don’t die.”

Thankfully, the bus stop was only a little further up the road from the entrance to the carnival grounds. Other people seemed to have had the same idea as you, too, the stop somewhat crowded with families, the kids already asleep, teenagers chattering excitedly about their next destination, and some exceedingly tired people your age, muffling yawns and chewing sweets.

When your bus had arrived it was already half-full but you managed to find a seat on the ground level at the back, sitting beside a teenager who doesn’t look at you, their hood up, headphones on.

Perfect. No possible way of someone initiating a conversation here.

The bus had trundled along slowly, stopping at seemingly every stop known to man, and people had trickled off until now, when it’s just you, an older lady near the front on the ground floor and possibly people on the upper floor.

The bus slows to a halt on a well-lit road, and you know you’re only a few stops away from your own, relief filling you.

I’m going for you, pyjamas.

The older lady shuffles off the bus and you hear someone descending from the top of the stairs, instinctive curiosity making you lift your gaze to see who it is.

It’s Barb from Stranger Things.

Except it’s not because she doesn’t exist, but the teenager looks exactly like her, complete with the perfect hair-style, glasses and outfit. They catch your eye and you smile. They smile back but it seems more out of reflex than genuine want to.

Stop staring, you look like a weirdo.

Once they’re off the bus, the doors close and the bus moves on. As it pulls away from the curb, you just can’t stop yourself from looking at ‘Barb’. They stand on the pavement, facing the road, waiting for the bus to pass, their hands in their pockets.

Just amazing. Absolutely uncanny.

You feel slightly bad that you didn’t compliment the person on their work, they obviously worked hard, but then again, you’re at the back of the bus and they probably wouldn’t have appreciated you yelling out to them, even if it was out of the goodness of your heart. They looked a little... sad, though, so maybe it would have cheered them up.

Facing the front again, you glance down at your phone and press the button to unlock it, wanting to tell Meg.

The screen remains blank.

You frown and press it again.

Nothing.

You definitely know it was at 78% when you last—

The screen lights up, pure white for a moment, then your lock-screen appears, complete with picture, the correct time, and the notifications you’d been ignoring.

Huh. Weird.

You don’t think too much on it, your phone does tend to glitch occasionally.

The light above you flickers, then so do the others, and your gaze darts up to watch them. In a line, one after the other, they go out, then shine brightly once more after a second.

... Right.

The bus slows, the last one before your own and, again, relief washes over you.

Not long now, so close—

“Last stop, lady.”

Your eyes snap to the bus driver, who’s leaning out of his seat to look at you.

“What? No, this isn’t the end of the line.”

There’s an edge to your tone, one you wouldn’t usually have with a public services worker if it wasn’t pitch-black outside and some lights flickering hadn’t just freaked you out a bit more than you’d like to admit.

He shrugs. “Sorry, I’m gonna run out of fuel.”

Ah, so that might explain the lights, then. That’s how it works... maybe.

“Is there another bus coming to finish the route?”

“At this time of night? Hell no.”

Oh my God.

You stare at him. “... What am I supposed to do, then?”

He shrugs again. “It isn’t that far to the end of the line.”

You can hear how desperate you are. “Couldn’t you take me some of the way?”

“Nah, station’s the other direction, I’d break down.”

Right, so this is a me problem.

Huffing and knowing you’re not going to win at all, you grab your bag and march down to the front of the bus, wrestling with your conscience that you can’t yell at him because it’s not his fault and you hate when customers yell at you when something isn’t your fault but also this is kind of his fault maybe in some way but it also isn’t and—

“Fine. Fine,” you mutter as you step off the bus before quickly turning to him. “I’m not the kind of person to do this, but I’m going to send the company a rather shitty email in the morning.”

“All right, miss.” Not one ounce of sympathy or care on his expression.

Clenching your jaw, you step back as the doors close and he pulls away, making you realise you were the only person left on the bus.

Right. No one else to rant with or pair up with and be safe with.

Okay, you know where you are, it’s not that far to home, you have perfume in your bag you can use as a kind of pepper spray, and you can call Meg. Scanning the area and pulling your phone out, you unlock it and type out a message to Meg.

Just my luck, bus running out of gas so had to get off and now walking. *skull emoji*. Isn’t this how horror films start?

Sending it, you glance up again to check for anyone before quickly typing and sending:

Can I call you?

Lifting your head, you’re about to lock your phone when it vibrates. Looking down at the screen, you frown.

‘Message unable to send. Try again.’ it reads next to ‘Can I call you?’

You tap ‘Try again’.

The message reappears a moment later.

‘Message unable to send. Try again.’

What the—

You look at the signal bars and—

No signal.

What the hell?

The first message was able to send and you haven’t even moved so how the hell hasn’t the second? You’ve never not had signal in this area.

Exhaling a frustrated breath, the cold night air helps you decide you can ruminate on it later. Heading down the path next to the woods that leads home, you blow out another, quiet breath and shove your phone into your bag.

Maybe in a few steps it’ll be okay.

You glance to the side, eyeing the woods.

Do not think about ghosts and ghouls, do not freak yourself out, do not be a bitch to yourself.

You quicken your pace, staring ahead.

It’s quiet. Quieter than usual. Usually there’s crickets chirping or an owl hooting or cars passing but... nothing.

The street lights are out, too, and you contemplate using your phone’s torch.

No. Don’t signal your whereabouts to... anyone.

like...

murderers...

... shit ...

... Just like the white winged dove, Sings a song, Sounds like she's singing, Who, who, who

Singing loudly in your head always helped to calm you. Keeping your gaze directly ahead, you continue, reminding yourself you’re only ten minutes from home.

Just like the white winged dove, Sings a song, Sounds like she's singing, Oh baby oh said oh ,

Ten minutes until you’re home. Then you can get out of this costume, have something to eat and go to sleep.

And the days go by Like a strand in the wind In the web that is my own

I begin again

Said to my friend, baby Nothin' else mattered

Maybe you’ll watch a few episodes of something you don’t have to think too hard about.

He was no more than a baby then Well he seemed broken hearted Something within him

Or maybe a bath, ooh, a bath sounds great, why did you wear these shoes, well, you didn’t think you’d be walking ages in them.

But the moment that I first laid Eyes on him—

The sound of a dull, muffled explosion echoes across the forest.

You cry out in fright as you freeze, your head whipping to the side instinctively to find the source.

Oh my God... what the fuck was that...

Your gaze darts about, and a breeze suddenly washes over you, as if pushed in your direction but that’s impossible because there’s been no wind all night and there’s none now, it’s just gone—

An orange light flickers amongst the trees, not too far away.

It’s just a flash light.

It’s just some kids playing around.

You stare at it.

It’s not moving.

It’s just kids playing about.

They’re probably setting off fireworks and one went wrong.

Then how come I can’t hear voices.

Shit, are they hurt?

Concern takes over from fear as you narrow your eyes, trying to look for any signs of movement at all. Nothing.

Check.

Go and look.

People could be hurt.

Reaching your hand into your bag, you pull your phone out and glance down.

One bar.

Fuck, yes.

Dialling the emergency services, you find that one tiny bar has given you confidence, and you stride towards the light.

It’s not until you’re a few feet away that you realise it’s not a flash light.

It’s not until you’re a few feet away that you realise your phone is still dialling and hasn’t connected, a crackling sound taking over.

It’s not until it’s too late that you realise the light is drawing you in and you can’t look away from it, can’t stop walking.

It’s not until it’s too late that you realise you can’t hear or see anything.

It’s not until you’re walking through the light that you realise you’re going to die.

The last thought you have is:

Oh my God, I’m going to fucking die in a shitty pirate costume.

You’re falling.

How is that possible?

Wait, you can’t see anything and your stomach isn’t dropping like it should do when you fall and— Holy fucking shit, yes it is, now it is, holy fuck, you’re going to be sick, what the fuck—

You land face down on something damp with a grunted ‘oof’’. Groaning, your head spinning, your hands move out slowly and you feel you’re on something solid. Squishy, but solid. Pushing yourself up, your arms shake slightly as you lift your head, blinking several times.

Glancing around, you find you’re still in the woods.

What the hell...

I must have tripped.

What the hell did I trip on?

Looking over your shoulder, you just see leaves on the ground.

Was there a rock hidden under all that? Yeah, that’s what it must have been.

Pushing yourself up with a groan, you brush the leaves and twigs from you, tutting at the streaks of mud across your costume.

I hope this bloody comes out or— Hang on a fucking second.

Turning quickly, you freeze.

Where the hell is that light?

You scan the area, still frozen.

... You must have imagined it. Or knocked it over. Or...

Just go home.

Turning, you start striding off.

Am I going in the right direction? I don’t care. Just get away from this area. No, get your phone out and Google Map it to see where—

There’s a road. Just up ahead. The trees thinning out.

Right. We’re back on track, this is where I was before, didn’t realise I was so close but hey, ho...

Striding towards it, you emerge out of the woods and stop abruptly.

Where’s the pavement?

You look one way, then the other.

... Is this a new road? Has it always been here?

It’s been a while since you walked through the woods but surely you’d have noticed if they’d been doing road works to create a new one... Unless...

Oh my God, am I concussed? This is the last thing I need.

You start walking before you realise it. Heading left down the road. You’re near to your neighbourhood. It has to be this way.

Google Maps.

Fumbling with your bag, you open it and pull your phone out, pressing the button to unlock the screen. Nothing.

Oh, not again, please...

You press it again, then again, then again, then again.

Still... nothing.

Right, don’t get upset, you’ll be fine, one way or another you’ll end up in your neighbourhood of the next one over, so at least you’ll know where you are.

You shove your phone back in to your bag and fold your arms tightly. It’s so damn cold. Why didn’t you just stay at home tonight.

You stare down the road. You don’t recognise a thing.

Everything looks different at night. You’ll be okay.

Bright headlights suddenly appear at your feet, growing larger as you hear a vehicle approach.

It slows as it nears.

Right, I’m either going to be murdered or get directions.

Steeling yourself, you also slow as it nears.

Here we go.

Turning, you’re blinded for a moment as the headlights hit your eyes. Squinting and shielding them, the vehicle, a car, pulls to a stop beside you.

Oh. Not just any car. A police car, apparently.

The window rolls down and a man pops his head out.

“You okay there, ma’am?”

“Yep. I’m fine, thank you.”

You’re not, but it’s an automatic response. He seems to know you’re not, casting a glance over you... and as he sizes you up, you size him up.

You recognise him.

You don’t know how, you’ve never had a conversation with a police officer before. Not knowingly, anyway. Maybe he’s a regular customer, or you’ve just seen him around.

“Where are you heading, ma’am?”

“Home.”

Why am I being questioned.

“And where’s home?”

“Hanover Street.”

He stares at you.

“Hanover Street?”

“Yeah.”

He’s still staring.

“Whereabouts is that, ma’am?”

God, you’re a rubbish cop.

“Just around the corner from The Lion and The Unicorn.”

“Right.” He looks you over again, frowning. “Have you been out this evening, ma’am?”

You frown in return, unease starting to creep up. “Yes.”

“Right.” Meeting your gaze, he then opens the car door and steps out, and your stomach drops. “Ma’am, if you’d just like to get in the car...”

Oh my God, this is the last thing I need.

You open your mouth, then close it because you are not about to argue with a police officer right now. Stifling an irritated sigh, you climb into the car as he opens the door behind his.

On the bright side, I might get a ride home.

You do not get a ride home.

The officer is silent as he drives, occasionally glancing in the rear-view mirror to look at you. You pretend not to notice, your own gaze darting down to your concealed phone every now and then. Still no signal.

I can’t wait until I find this hilarious.

The ride only takes a couple of minutes before you realise you’ve reached his destination. The police station.

You don’t recognise it, but then again you’ve never had a reason to go to the station.

You didn’t know the station was so close, though.

Once the officer parks up, he opens the door for you and waits for you to step out before gently instructing you to follow him. You obey.

The station is busy, phones ringing and people walking up and down.

Well, it is Hallowe’en.

Slightly overwhelmed and tired and maybe perhaps a little frightened, you do as you’re told, sitting at a desk the officer points at. You hold your bag on your lap, your shoulders slightly hunched.

You only have to wait a few moments before another officer takes a seat opposite you, not looking at you as he greets you with a weary ‘Good evening’.

Hang on. You recognise this officer, too. Maybe he’s also a customer. Not important right now.

“Right...” he slaps a notepad down in front of him and takes a pen from his shirt pocket before finally looking at you. “... What were you doing walking down a dark road on your own, miss?”

“Uh...” Just tell the truth, you haven’t done anything wrong. “I was walking home.”

“Nobody wanted to give you a ride?”

He’s making notes and you can’t help but stare at his pen moving.

“Uh, no, well, there was no one to give me a ride, I got the bus but then I had to get off ‘cause it was running out of fuel, but it’s not far to my home so it’s not too far a walk.”

“And home is Hanover Street?”

“Yeah.”

“Right.”

The fact he’s conversed with the other officer makes you nervous.

Please don’t obsess about what they might have said.

“Around the corner from The Lion and The Unicorn?”

“Yeah.”

Too late, you’re obsessing.

“And what is that, miss?”

You can’t stop yourself from frowning.

“It’s the pub, it’s only probably about five minutes away from here.”

“Right.”

The way he says it makes you feel like you’re wrong, but you can’t be, you’ve been to that pub a thousand times before. You might not have recognised the road you were on, but as it was in your woods you know the pub is close by.

“And why were you by the woods, miss? Seems a bit dangerous for this time of night.”

“Oh, well...”

Do you tell the truth? Oh, yes, deflect from whatever it is you seem to have done wrong.

You sit up a little straighter, slightly more confident now because you have vital information. “... I heard an explosion in the woods.”

His pen pauses as his gaze snaps up to you. “An explosion?”

“Yeah. It sounded quite quiet.”

Gazing at you, his eyes then lift to something behind you. “Hey, Flo, we heard anything tonight about an explosion?”

A woman wearing large glasses passes by the desk. “No, honey, just drunks and people calling about the poor boy.”

“All right.” The officer raises his eyebrows slightly, then looks to you. Then he frowns. “Hey, you all right?”

You’re staring at the woman’s back, frozen.

Oh my God. Oh my God... Flo.

“Miss—”

“What the hell is going on here?”

Your tone and suddenly sharp gaze takes him aback slightly, but he recovers swiftly.

“Excuse me?”

You stare at Flo again, then back to him.

“What is going on here?”

“Miss, how much have you had to drink tonight?”

You would have been offended by the question if your mind wasn’t racing. Your racing mind also doesn’t give you a chance to really think about what to say in return.

“Not a lot. Four cocktails.”

“Four?”

“2-4-1, all day, every day.” You’re practically trying to stare him down now, trying to make him crack. “What is going on?”

He changes tact, clasping his hands together on the desk. “You’re being questioned because you were found wandering alone on the side of the road, and you seem somewhat disorientated.”

Yes, I’m fucking disorientated.

You place your finger on the desk. “This is, this is Hawkins Police Station.”

He doesn’t react. “Yes.”

“From Stranger Things.”

Now he reacts, his eyebrows raising a fraction.

“... Miss, have you taken any narcotics this evening?”

“No.” You can’t stop yourself from lowering your voice. “Am I being pranked right now?”

His voice is suddenly gentler. “Do you have someone we could call?”

You just stare at him, trying to find an inkling of something on his features.

The joke should have ended by now, surely.

Your anger starts to turn to agitation. “May I go?”

He’s looking at you sympathetically which isn’t good at all. “Do you have someone we could call to come and pick you up?”

Your eyes dart about the station.

Everything is exactly like it is on the show. There’s no way this is a set up. How could it all have been set up? You fell in the forest and suddenly there was a road that had never been there before, an entire sound-stage and the exact actors?

Nausea washes over you as you swallow hard.

“Can I have some water, please?”

“Yeah, sure.” He rises, his gaze lingering on you, before he walks around you.

Exhaling a long breath, you stare down at your bag.

I think I just need to sober up. Probably more drunk than I realised I was. Or I’m concussed.

You close your eyes.

Shit, shit, shit, think. How can I think when I don’t know what the fuck is going on? How is this possible, what the fuck is going on, oh, God, don’t faint, don’t faint—

Your eyes open as you hear him return and a glass of water appears before you. You instantly grab it, taking a long sip. Your hand shakes slightly as you set it back down.

He sits down again, a troubled expression on his features as he watches you. “Sure you’re all right?”

Oh, no.

Don’t do it.

“Uhm...”

Don’t you do it.

“... I think...”

Don’t you dare.

“I think I’m gonna be sick.”

“Oh, shit—”

You make it just in time. Turning your head, your body lurches forward as you bend at the waist and throw up in to the waste bin by his desk. You close your eyes tightly as you vomit again, hearing people around you.

“Oh, Jesus, Flo, can we have some paper towels, please?”

“Someone’s havin’ a rough night, huh?”

Oh, no.

Oh, fuck.

Oh, no, this isn’t possible.

Lifting your head as you inhale a shaking breath, not thinking to wipe your mouth, you look up and meet the gaze of Chief Jim Hopper.

His frown is the last thing you see before you pass out.

Ah, unconsciousness.

Oh, no, not unconsciousness because you’re having a thought. A thought that unconsciousness is nice. Uncomplicated.

There’s a weight on your shoulder, a gentle weight. Slowly opening your eyes, you gaze up at the faces of three people.

Oh, fuck off.

Flo, the officer, Powell, you remember his name now, and... and Hopper.

David Harbour. Hopper.

I hope I pass out again.

You don’t, forcing you to realise you were only unconscious for probably a minute or so as you’re still on the floor.

Oh, God, it’s still happening.

“Hey, you okay?”

You look to David/Hopper.

I hate this.

I’ve masturbated thinking about you.

Oh my God, stop it.

“Yeah... yeah... Can you... Can you back off, please?”

“Uh, yeah.”

All three of them move away and stand as you push yourself up, wincing slightly. Nobody apparently caught you because there’s a dull ache at the back of your head.

Brilliant. Concussion on top of concussion, probably.

You know you won’t be sick again but you feel so overwhelmed, like you can’t breathe.

“I need some air.”

Powell, thankfully, speaks this time. “You wanna take a walk?”

“Yeah, on my own. I’ll be fine.” You’re already walking towards the exit.

Then, David/Hopper is at your side, pushing the door open for you. “Nah, can’t let you do that on you’re own.”

You take extra care to not be one inch closer to him than you need to be as you pass through the door. Stepping out, once again, into the welcome, cold night air, you inhale a deep breath. You can’t look at him.

“Am I under arrest?”

“No, we’re just concerned.”

The parking lot is quiet, half empty, small. You start to pace, still unable to look at him.

“I’m fine.”

“Is there anyone who could come and get you?”

I’d love it if everyone would stop asking me that.

“I—” Just play along, don’t look at him, don’t do it. “No.”

“Where do you live?”

“i, uhm, I don’t live here, I’m just visiting a friend.” Nice cover.

“Do you know the address?”

Oh, shit.

“No.”

“Do—”

“Hop, come on, we gotta go, there’s a fight at McCorley’s.”

You lift your head to see Powell, calling out to Hopper/David, heading for a truck.

You can’t stop yourself from glancing at Hopper.

God.

Season 1 Hopper.

You’ve missed the stubble.

Stop it.

“Shit. Hang on,” Hopper/David answers before turning back to you, a frown returning to his features. “Do you know the neighbourhood where your friend lives?”

“No.”

“Right.” ‘Real helpful’, you can practically hear him thinking. He raises his eyebrows and holds his hand out in a stay put gesture. “Stay here until we get back, all right?”

You nod, still unable to meet his gaze, swinging your arms slightly. “Yep, okay.”

He watches you for a moment, then nods, turning and striding away to his Blazer.

You stand still, watching as he gets in, starts the engine, then reverses and drives away. As soon as he’s out of sight, you’re moving. Where, you have absolutely no idea.

This isn’t real. This cannot be real.

You can feel the ground beneath your feet as you head down the main road and a light breeze on your face but it can’t be real.

Unless...

That was it.

Someone’s drugged my drink. I don’t know when or how, I bought all my own drinks and didn’t put them down once, but someone has, that’s the only explanation. I’m having a very, very, very vivid hallucination and I’m actually walking around my house right now.

You suddenly come to an abrupt halt.

What am I supposed to do, then.

Like anything, you suppose; sleep it off.

But where?

Are you even in your house? You could be in the forest, that’s when you’d seen that damn light and that’s probably when the drugs had hit. Rubbing at your forehead, you blow out a breath and close your eyes. You’re starting to get a headache and you have no idea what’s going on and you just—

Stop it, take a breath.

Inhaling and exhaling three long, slow breaths, you lift your head and open your eyes.

Yep. still here.

But, there, a short walk away, you see the centre of Hawkins, lights shining brightly in the darkness.

Sleep it off.

Motel. There has to be one.

Moving forward, you’re striding now.

Play along with the hallucination, just play it out. This could all just be in your head.

Oh, God, I hope this is all in my head.

What the hell am I doing.

Coming to a halt, you groan as you bend over, your hands on your knees, your eyes closed.

Please don’t be sick again.

Or do, it’ll give me something to do.

“Excuse me, dear?”

Oh, God, what now...

Straightening up, you lift your head and find Flo, the actual Flo, standing a few feet behind you, her hands clasped together. She raises her eyebrows expectantly.

“Uh... I was just... going.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yep.” Why am I crumbling under her gaze.

“Chief let you go did he?”

“Yep.” Oh, God, this is a criminal offence. She definitely knows I’m lying.

“Where are you goin’ to? Remember where your friend lives?”

“Uh, no, I was just... I was going to find a motel.”

“Like hell you are in your state.” She drops her arms and gestures for you to return. “Come on. I got a spare room.”

“Uh...” You stare at her, not really knowing what to do. “... I could be a serial killer, you know.”

She eyes you. “Nah, you ain’t.”

Then, she turns and starts walking back to the station.

... Right.

You follow after her.

Because what the hell else is there to do.

Flo had said if you needed anything, to let her know.

Oh, Flo. Oh, Flo, even you can’t help with this.

Holding the blankets up against your chest, you stare up at the ceiling.

This is mad. This is bizarre. But it’s real.

That much you’ve come to terms with.

You’ve seen enough TV shows and films to have some sort of an inkling of what’s going on.

You’ve gone through some sort of a dimension.

That, or you’re part of a prank show you’ve never heard of.

The former seems more likely than the latter, though. Your friends would never put you up for a prank show because they know you’d hate it. and you’re not aware of having an arch-enemy. So, you’ve passed into another dimension. A dimension that houses the land of your favourite TV show.

Right. So. What’s the plan, then.

Sleep, get up in the morning, rifle through the bags of clothes Flo said you could, find something to wear, then go back to the woods and find the portal back.

A snort escapes you.

I can’t believe I’m actually thinking about portals and dimensions and how to get back to my own world. And now i’m laughing about it. I’m delirious. Maybe I will just wake up and this will all be something other than real. That would be amazing.

Closing your eyes, you pull the blankets up a little higher.

This is the weirdest night of my life. And possibly the comfiest bed I’ve ever slept in. Silver linings.

You’d followed after Flo, dutifully, like a good law-abiding citizen, even if you are in a different world, and gotten into her car.

She’d asked you a few basic questions as she drove; your name, if you were hungry, how you were feeling. You answered truthfully, still absolutely baffled by the bizarreness of the situation.

Once at her home, you’d not had much of a chance to look at where the actual Flo lives as she’d led you straight to the guest room, having told her you weren’t hungry but tired.

Add overwhelmed and incredibly confused to that.

That’s where you now find yourself.

Closing your eyes, you want to make a plan but you also don’t want to think too much about what is happening right now because you think your brain might actually explode.

Just sleep.

Just sleep, maybe this is all actually a dream.

That would be amazing.

You’re awoken what feels like only three seconds later by the bedroom door opening and knocking against the chest of drawers beside it.

Your eyes snap open and your head shoots up.

Flo stands in the doorway, already dressed, smiling at you warmly.

“Good morning, sweetie. Up you get, I’ve got breakfast ready.”

Your head drops back down as she, leaving the door open, heads back to the kitchen, your arms covering your eyes.

Oh, God. This is still real.

Rolling out of bed, you shuffle over to the bin bags in the corner, untying and rifling through them for an outfit. A dress and leggings come out in your size so you quickly tug them on, pull your boots back on, and shove your costume and bag into a tote bag you came across.

Breakfast with Flo is... interesting.

She asks essentially what you’d been asked the night before, why you are in town, who you’re staying with, what their number is, if you’d like to call any family or friends.

You manage to deflect each one, saying you’ll be fine, you can’t remember your friend’s number or where they live, your family don’t know your friends number so it wouldn’t help.

Taking your empty plate away once you’re done, Flo places them in the sink and claps her hands together. “Well, come on, then I’ll take you back to the station.”

You nearly choke on your mouthful of water. “What?”

She looks faintly surprised. “Maybe your friend’s come looking for you or made a call. Either way, I think it’s the best place for you.”

“Yeah, you’re right, sorry, bit of a restless night,” you answer quickly with a small smile.

She nods sympathetically before grabbing her car keys.

Shit. No, don’t worry. The station is close to where the portal is. Just give them the slip when you get there, run for it, get back home.

Perfect. An excellent plan.

You’re ready.

You’re so ready to do it.

You’ve psyched yourself up throughout the whole journey.

You can do this.

You’ll be home within the hour.

You’re full of hope, you’re stepping out of the car, you’re getting ready to run, you’re—

The Station door slams open.

“Flo, what the hell?”

Oh, no.

You and Flo turn, you swiftly, guiltily, Flo slowly, arching an eyebrow.

Hopper strides out of the Station, stopping only a couple of feet from you both, his hands on his hips.

“You can’t just take a person of interest out of the Station without tellin’ anyone!”

Hang on, ‘person of interest’?

Flo folds her arms. “Well, I wasn’t gonna let her sleep here, where would she? In a cell? She’s not under arrest, Hopper.”

Hopper sighs, rather exasperatedly. “Flo, you’re not responsible for her.”

She bristles at that, her back straightening. “Well, then who the damn hell else is?”

Bizarrely, her protective display warms you but you still keep your eyes on Flo, unable to look at him. She looks at you then, smiling.

“Come on, honey, let’s get some more coffee and see what we can—”

“Actually, Flo, I’d like to talk to her.”

You don’t catch yourself in time. You look at him. His mouth is set in a thin line. He’s so handsome. You hate everything that’s happening right now.

“’Her’? She has a name,” Flo huffs.

I feel like a kid with my divorced parents.

He gives another exasperated sigh. “Well, if I was given the chance to talk to her, then I would know that.”

“Powell already spoke to her, Hop, so—”

“She’s a potential suspect, Flo.”

“Excuse me?”

You both say it together, but Hopper looks at you instead of Flo, perhaps out of sheepishness at speaking about you rather than at you, or because it’s the first time you’ve spoken.

“You’re a potential suspect in a missing persons case, miss.”

Flo inhales sharply. “You can’t mean Will’s case. Hop, look at her, she couldn’t have—”

“Flo.” His voice is quiet but firm.

She presses her lips together, then looks to you.

You’re still staring at Hopper, your heart pounding.

Shit.

Oh my God.

I’m about to talk one-on-one, completely alone, with Chief Jim Hopper.

And I’m a suspect in the Will Byers case.

That can’t be right, though, because from your somewhat extensive knowledge of Stranger Things Will doesn’t go missing until the night of the 6th November...

Don’t ask, you’ll look crazy, just...

Your gaze darts about his desk as he closes the door to his office and you take a seat.

Desk calendar, yes.

It’s November 8th.

You’ve not only come through a portal to another world, you came to it on a completely different day.

The night after Will Byers went missing.

Oh, God, why is this happening?

“So...” He rounds the desk and sits behind it, taking a few pages from the stack beside him and glancing over it. “... I read Powell’s report. You were walkin’ alone by the woods.” He then looks to you. “Why?”

We’re getting straight to it, then.

Thankfully, strangely, your anxiety at the fact you’re being tied to a crime has taken the edge off the fact you’re talking to Jim Hopper.

You lick your lips. “As I said last night, I was walking home.”

“From where?”

A fair would be too risky to say, as you have no idea if there’s one in the area, so... “A friend’s house.”

“You there for a fancy dress party?” He gestures at you. “You were dressed as a pirate if I remember rightly.”

You smile faintly. “Yeah. We were celebrating a birthday.”

“Right.” He glances down at the notes before him, then sits back. “Why were you alone, though? Powell wrote you got the bus but then it was running out of gas so you were made to get off and walk.”

As silence continues after a moment, you raise your eyebrows slightly. “Yes, that’s correct.”

His features give nothing away. “There’s no bus that passes through that route at that time of night, though.”

You have to react quickly. “Well, I was on a bus, so.”

He’s silent again, and you’ve seen enough cop shows to guess this is a tactic. You remain silent, too.

Hopper inhales a breath, then folds his arms. “Powell also wrote that you said you had four cocktails last night. Would you consider yourself a ‘light-weight’?”

The question sends a flash of irritation through you. “No. I wasn’t drunk, if that’s what you’re implying. I’d had those cocktails a few hours before I got the bus.”

“You also said you heard an explosion in the woods.”

“Yes, I did.”

“Where?”

“Close to where I was. I was going to investigate it but I was too afraid.” I wish I had been.

Hopper runs his hand down his mouth. “You don’t think it was just a firework?”

You press your lips together, trying to control your irritation. “I know what a firework looks like, nothing lit up the sky and it didn’t sound as loud as one. It just sounded like it was muffled. I did see a light shining in the trees so I thought there were people there, maybe kids playing.”

“Did you see anyone?”

“No, I didn’t see anything but the light.”

“You didn’t see anyone at all, though? You didn’t pass anyone on the road, there was no one else on the bus?”

That’s when you realise.

Shit. I have no alibi. Just the truth, which will see me locked up for insanity in a different world.

Clearing your throat, you can’t help the edge of resignation that laces your tone. “No, I didn’t see anyone else. Two people got off the stop before where I had to get off at, though.”

Two people who don’t even exist in this world. Fake-Barb and an old lady.

Hopper is silent for a few moments, watching you. Then, he clasps his hands together on the desk. “Look, we don’t have any reports of an explosion, but we do have a missing kid to find so how about you—”

Raised voices break out outside the office.

Both your heads whip to the side out of reflex, but the blinds are down, blocking your view. Hopper stands and you turn in your seat as the voices near the door.

It bursts opens.

Flo is the first person your eyes land on, her eyebrows raised.

“Chief, I’m sorry, I couldn’t—”

“Hop, I think I—”

Joyce Byer’s, her eyes wide, her hands in mid-air, freezes as she stares at you.

“You...”

Oh, no...

You already hate what you don’t know is coming.

She exhales a heavy breath. “... I dreamt about you.”

“Joyce...” Hopper’s voice is so gentle behind you as he moves to her, but you can’t take your eyes off of her.

You’re torn between the fact this is Joyce Byers, and that you want to comfort her because she’s so distressed.

She doesn’t stop looking at you either. “I did, Hop, I did. You. you had a phone in your hand but it was so small, and you, you were—”

Hopper stops only a step or two away from her, his voice still gentle. “Joyce, do you know this woman?”

She shakes her head. “No, no, I’ve never met you, have I?”

The way she says it is so... aware, somehow.

You find your voice after a moment. “Ah, no.”

“Then how did I dream about you.” She says it so quietly, her eyes shining with tears.

You know it’s a show. You know it’s not real. They’re not real.

But now, with Joyce standing before you, heavy, dark circles under her eyes, her hands shaking, tears beginning to fall, it feels so real. You feel your throat closing slightly with emotion.

“I’m, I’m so sorry about your son.”

She just nods faintly, still staring at you.

From the corner of your eye, you see Flo nod in Hopper’s direction, and gently takes Joyce by the arms. “Come on, honey. I need a glass of water. Let’s get one for you, too.”

Joyce allows herself to be led away, finally tearing her gaze from you as her features crumble.

Swallowing hard, you have to prevent your own from doing the same.

As the door closes behind them, you sniff and turn back in your seat to face the desk. Hopper returns to his chair and you feel his eyes on you. You don’t meet his gaze until he’s seated.

Exhaling a long breath, he then looks down at his hands.

“You’re new in town, you were walkin’ alone on a road with no bus route the night after Will Byers goes missing, you don’t come up on any of our systems, you’re convinced you heard an explosion, Joyce Byers believes she saw you in her dreams...” He looks up at you. ”... How about you start tellin’ me somethin’ that makes sense.”

You open your mouth, then close it.

Oh, fuck it.

What is there to lose. Well, you could still make a run for it. You’re not a fast runner but you could give it your damn best.

The door bursts open for the second time, making both of you jump, your head whipping round to find the source.

Officer Callahan, slightly out of breath, points at you both. “Wait, wait, wait, hang on a minute, Chief—”

“Callahan, where the hell have you been?!”

The officer waves his hand slightly, trying to draw breath. “Hang on, Chief, she... she’s tellin’ the truth...”

Both of you stare at him.

What now.

Inhaling a deep breath, Callahan continues. “I was drivin’ by the woods, patrollin’ for any signs of the kid, last night, and I saw this flash of light and this sound like somethin’ blew up, I thought it was some kids dickin’ about so I went to see but it wasn’t, there was this...”

“What, Callahan?” Hopper demands as Callahan pauses to take a breath.

“... it was this...”

You can’t stop yourself, half-hopeful, half-desperate.

“... Portal?” you murmur.

Callahan snaps his fingers and points at you. “Yes, yes, that’s it. A portal. All circular and wavy and weird.”

You realise you’re smiling, relief flooding over you.

I’ve got my fucking alibi.

Of sorts.

We must have just missed each other.

You realise, after a moment, that Hopper hasn’t said anything. Turning in your chair, you look at him. His eyebrows are raised, his mouth is open slightly and his jaw is tight.

“Well,” he suddenly says in a bright tone, as if you’re his two, overzealous children that he has to entertain. ”Let’s go see this portal, shall we?”

You’re surprisingly grateful that Callahan talks for the entirety of the ride.

He switches his gaze from the road to Hopper in the passenger seat, then to you in the rear-view mirror.

“... I ain’t ever seen anything like this in my life, Chief, I thought I was goin’ mad until Powell told me just now about this lady that had come in and she’d heard an explosion and she didn’t seem to be from around here and I knew we’d see the same thing...”

Hopper doesn’t say a word.

Each word Callahan says, though, gives you a new spark of hope.

I’m going to go home.

It’s not long before Callahan pulls up by the side of the road. It has to be the road you walked down, though it looks so different in the daylight. Stepping out of the car, shouldering your tote bag, you gaze across to the woods. It’s less frightening, even inviting—

Behind two trees, partially hidden, shines a light.

You feel the two men pause in the same moment you do.

“What the hell...” Hopper crosses the road first, his hand instinctively going to his gun.

You glance at Callahan who glances at you. You follow behind him.

Your heart is pounding. Well, you don’t think it’s been at its normal rate for 24 hours, but now it accelerates that bit more.

You’re not mad. This is real.

Don’t think about that too much or you might actually go mad.

As you approach, you hear a faint, low humming coming from the... You and Callahan had both settled on calling it a portal but now you actually get a look at it it seems more like a...

Wait, I didn’t actually see it when I came through.

You’d looked around, having thought you’d tripped on something but you’d seen... nothing.

Why the hell didn’t I?

It’s more like a mirror, shimmering and reflecting the forest.

Maybe because it was dark, that’s why I didn’t.

Hopper’s low scoff pulls you from your thoughts. He’s staring at it, his hand still on his gun. He takes a step towards it and—

You all make some sort of a sound as the portal shrinks. Hopper automatically takes a step back, and it widens to its normal size.

The silence between you all stretches on.

You’re about to announce that, well, this was great but you’re heading home, when Hopper turns sharply and locks his eyes on you.

“Tell me the truth, now.”

Slightly taken aback by A) the force of his gaze and B) trying to figure out exactly what to say, your mouth drops open slightly.

“Uhm...”

You glance at Callahan, maybe hoping he’ll just start talking and give you time, but Hopper seems to interpret the look differently.

Looking to his officer, he drops his hand from his gun and starts to stride back towards the road.

“Radio in to Powell to help you get this place cordoned off, don’t talk to anyone else, we don’t need a panic. You,” he directs at you, “Come with me.”

Before either of you can question him, he’s already at the road, crossing it to the car.

Clearing your throat, you give Callahan a light smile before you’re once again following after Hopper.

Callahan lifts his hands, then drops them.

“Right, I’ll just be... here.”

I’ve imagined this a thousand times.

But in definitely sexier circumstances.

You’re at Hopper’s trailer.

Hopper’s trailer.

You’re still hovering by the door so you let your gaze sweep the room. It’s as messy as it had been portrayed on the show. The coffee table is surprisingly clear, though, save for a local newsletter which you have to stop yourself from picking up and reading. A blanket lies draped across one of the couches.

That’s where he sleeps when he’s too drunk to get to bed.

It’s incredibly strange; knowing so much about someone you’re supposed to regard as a stranger. It feels... intrusive.

You’d both been silent for the ride here, but now you have a hundred questions. You decide to settle on the most sensible one, though

“Uh, why are we here and not at the station?”

Not that I’m complaining.

“I thought you maybe didn’t want to say what you’re gonna say in front of Callahan.”

He emerges from behind the refrigerator door, closing it with one hand, his other one holding a beer bottle. He doesn’t offer you one. Uncapping the top, he tosses it into the sink then moves across the room and sits in the nearest armchair. He gestures for you to sit, too.

You do as you’re bade, sitting on the couch next to you, the tote bag at your feet, your hands in your lap.

“Explain,” is all he says.

And, after a pause, you do.

You hardly pause to take a breath, not daring to in case he takes the chance to laugh or call you crazy. To his credit, though, he doesn’t react once throughout.

You start with what year you’re from, how you were out on Hallowe’en night and retell the story of the bus debacle more truthfully. You tell him about your phone losing its signal, how you heard what sounded like an explosion and went to investigate it, then how you felt like you couldn’t turn or look away from it, how it pulled you in. You continue on, recounting truthfully up until the moment you met him.

The only thing you leave out is that, to your world, his isn’t real. For some reason, it doesn’t feel right to tell him.

When you finish, he looks at you, silent. The beer bottle is balanced on his thigh, his hand tight around it, his features expressionless.

You shift slightly, playing with your hands.

“Well, I—”

“You’ve got to be shittin’ me.”

It’s your turn to look at him, your mouth open. He scoffs, raising his eyebrows.

“You’re tellin’ me the truth?”

“Yep, it’s all true.”

For some reason you’re... annoyed.

He scoffs again. “You’re tellin’ me I’m supposed to believe you’ve, what, time-travelled here?”

“Yes, actually.” Your back’s straighter now, your lips pressed together.

“Is this a fuckin’ joke?”

“A joke? You saw it with your own damn eyes, Chief.”

If he’s surprised by the bite to your tone he doesn’t show it, and, thankfully, he doesn’t scoff again either.

“How, then? How did this all happen?”

“I don’t know, I’m not a fucking scientist.”

“So, I’m just supposed to believe you, huh?”

“Yes.”

Your sure, rapid response makes his lips twitch slightly, and you can’t believe he might actually want to smile.

“Why is it so hard for you to believe?” you continue, your voice having risen slightly, “You saw it with your own eyes.”

“I don’t know what I saw,” he counters in a way that has you realising he’s wrestling with the facts and the impossibility of them.

Well, then.

If he doesn’t believe this, then how is he going to believe Joyce about anything.

You don’t know where that thought comes from.

"I’ll go back through, I’ll prove it to you,” you announce as you rise to your feet, lifting your bag.

“What?” He’s full-on smiling now in disbelief, staring at you.

“Take me back there, I’ll show you.”

He regards you, your arms folded, your eyebrow arched, your features determined. Sighing heavily, he sets the bottle down on a table beside him and pushes himself up.

“All right, but then afterwards we’re goin’ to the Station and we’re gonna find your friends.”

“... This is a fuckin’ waste of time...” Hopper grumbles behind you as you trudge through the dry, fallen leaves.

I’ll show you.

Callahan leaning against a nearby tree, raises his eyebrows at the sight of you both.

“Gee, that was quick.” He glances from Hopper to you. “He doesn’t believe whatever you told him, does he?”

“Nope.”

You stride past him, heading straight for the portal. Powell stands on the other side of it, finishing tying some tape to a tree to cordon the area off. You wish you had the time to get his opinion on it. You duck under the tape before you and turn to Hopper.

He stays behind the tape, his arms folded. Glancing at the portal then to you, he shakes his head wearily.

“Well, if this miraculously works and you don’t come back, it was nice knowin’ you, sweetheart.”

You hate the sarcasm dripping from his tone.

I’ll show you, you bastard. This isn’t even gonna be the weirdest thing you’ll see this month.

“Yeah, you, too.”

You turn to the portal.

You turn back after a split second to add before you can think, “You’re such a pain the ass, even bigger than I would have thought.”

“What did you just say?”

His words, however, are drowned out by the growing humming of the portal. You’ve turned back and your gaze is locked onto it now and you can feel the familiar pull and tug of it.

You can’t look away.

You can’t stop yourself from moving towards it.

You can’t hear Hopper as he tries to get closer to you, calling to you.

It’s night time.

You’re staring up at the stars in the sky.

There’s so many of them.

There’s something digging into my back.

Pushing yourself up with a groan, your hands pressing into mud and leaves, you get to your feet. Looking down, you find the source of your discomfort is your bag. Lifting it and brushing leaves off of it, you look around.

Trees. Lots and lots of trees, and...

No portal.

You can’t stop a wide smile from spreading across your lips.

There, see, you disbelieving dick, I was right, now I’m...

Home.

You’re home. You’re still grinning, looking beyond the trees. Yes, there’s the road you had walked on before this whole mess, now you can go home and...

Your smile starts to fall.

You’d been in Hawkins.

You’d spoken with Powell, Callahan, Flo, Joyce and... Hopper.

You’d actually been there, in their world.

There were so many missed opportunities. There was so much more you could have done, could have said, could have asked.

You could have...

Stop it, you’re home now, that’s what you wanted. That wasn’t real. That was... That was...

Your phone buzzes in your bag.

Looking down at it, you open it after a moment and pull it out.

You have a message.

From Meg.

UGH nightmare, that’s why I hate public transport. CALL ME!!

You release a sound, half of disbelief, half of relief.

No time has passed at all.

Your thumb moves quickly, and you lift your phone to your ear.

“I cannot believe this has happened, it is such an outrage, I am going to spam the bus company’s Twitter until you get some kind of compensation, how dare they, the absolute fucking bastards...”

As Meg rants on, a smile returns to your lips and you start to walk.

It only takes you five minutes to get home, and Meg talks the whole way, only drawing breath when you close your front door.

“... ugh, anyway, I’ll help you write up an email. Are you all right, anyway?”

You pause, placing your bag on your couch. You think back over the lost 24 hours, everything you hadn’t had time to feel. You can’t stop your eyes from filling.

“Hey, why are you crying?” Meg asks with a great deal of concern as you sniff, wiping at your eyes

“I just...” You exhale a long breath. “... It was a bit scary, that’s all.”

“O, babe, oh please don’t cry. You’re fine now, you’re back home. But the TV on and get into your pyjamas. How about I come over in the morning, we have pancakes and watch whatever’s on?”

You crack a smile even though she can’t see it. “That sounds amazing.”

“Duh, I’m going to be there, of course it will be.”

You laugh, grateful for the release it brings you.

Forget about everything. Write it off as a weird day. Never tell anyone. It wasn’t real.

Shoving everything, everything from your mind, you lose yourself in making plans with Meg, crossing the room and entering your bedroom as you laugh again.

Behind you, unseen, the lamps flicker. Slowly, then rapidly. The TV turns on, the screen flashes white.

Then, they cease.

The lights shine warmly.

All is as it should be.

The End... ?

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dylshoney · 6 years

Text

the scarf

synopsis: shawn is the newest player of the maple leaves, the readers favorite team

a/n: kinda like this tbh. requests are open again!

warnings: language, heavy smut, oral (female receiving), daddy kink

When you had been given your best friend’s remaining ticket to the Maple Leaves game you thought you were going to have a heart attack. Now, seated in the front row, your face practically pressed against the glass – you swore you would never be this happy again. Your knee was bouncing as you tried to contain your nerves, the team would be on the ice in a few minutes. You looked to your left, shuddering as your friend passionately kissed her boyfriend. You were very grateful to have been given her other ticket, but now, you felt like a complete third wheel. You wanted to grab her hand and scream with her as all the players skated out, but instead, you were stuck leaning away from them as you tried to ignore the sound of smacking lips.

They thankfully separated the second that the game began – seemingly both completely enticed with what was happening. Your throat was completely sore from screaming your heart out as the team skated onto the ice – particularly loud once you saw your favorite player. The newest addition to the team, and the most gorgeous guy you had ever seen in your life. Maia grabbed your hand, practically screaming into your ear as he skated in front of you, his hand raised as he greeted the cheering crowd.

The game started with a bang, the teams practically flying on the rink as they tried to one up the opposite side.

You felt like you were floating, finally able to see your favorite people right in front of you, playing like their lives depended on it.

Time flew by faster than you would have liked, the last twenty minutes reaching and your nerves on edges as the teams were tied.

You watched with wide eyes as Shawn handled the puck, getting closer to center field – right where you were sitting. You held your breath, sitting on the edge of your seat as you watched him move expertly down the ice.

BAM.

You flinched back, releasing an uncontrollable scream as the opposing team’s player slammed Shawn into the glass – stealing the puck and skating away. You felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest, Shawn’s body barely two feet from you, his hands pressed against the glass as he groaned – obviously displeased with the play.

Everything happened in a matter of seconds – Maia grabbing your hand to snap you out of your daze – your eyes meeting Shawn’s as he looked at you, his warm brown orbs barely visible through the helmet. Your breath hitched as he began to smile, his gaze trailing over your body. You felt like time wasn’t moving – your mouth open in a small oh as you tried to register what was happening.

And then, he winked.

You barely had the chance to blink and he was gone, skating back into his offensive position to set up for the next play.

“Holy shit!” You hear Maia screaming next to you but it sounded muffled, like she was in another room. You released a breath – your whole body completely covered in goose bumps as you tried to calm your heart.

“What the fuck just happened?” Maia was ecstatic, practically bouncing in her seat as she shook your arm.

“I – I have no idea.”

“Shawn fucking Mendes thinks you’re hot,” Maia mumbled after a moment, her voice pitching at the end, “I can’t believe this! Please fuck him for me!”

“Woah,” you leaned away, your cheeks completely flushed as you looked at her, “First of all, he does not find me hot and – ”

“He winked at you!”

You ignored her, “And second of all, who’s to say I’m ever going to get the chance to talk to him – much less fuck him.. No matter how much I want to,” you mumbled the second part, your eyes trained on said boy – skating like he didn’t just create a river between your legs.

“I wish I got that on video,” Maia said after a few moments, “Wanna brag that my friend is on Shawn Mendes’ radar.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled anyway, “You’re such a hopeless romantic.”

The game flew by in a bustle of emotions, your heart never fully calming down after the whole order with Shawn and the wink and the way his gaze traveled over you.

You shut your eyes for a second as you reached the parking lot, angry to have left the arena later than most – the crowd was huge and unruly and you were positive you would all the stuck in traffic for at least an hour trying to get out.

“Shit,” you muttered as a shiver went down your spin – the cold February air finally hitting you.

“Maia!” You shouted her name, her eyes meeting yours through the crowd as she turned to face you.

“I left my scarf!” You gestured behind you, “I’m going back to get it!”

She nodded, “Meet at the car!”

You sent her a thumbs up and turned to quickly push through the crowd. You made it into the stadium minutes later, your eyes traveling over all the steps you would have to go down – cursing as you began to jog.

You reached your seats in record time – thankful that no one else was left in the arena, creating no obstacles.

You found seat 1-L and blinked in shock as you noticed your scarf was nowhere to be found.

“Damn it,” you muttered, running a hand through your hair – the empty arena suddenly colder than you remembered.

You exhaled as breath, wrapping your coat tighter around your frame as you turned to leave.

“Umpf – ”

Your breath caught in your throat as two hands latched around you – steading your frame.

“I’m sorry – I ” you looked up, your voice faltering as you laid eyes on the grinning figure looking down at you. His hair was unruly and wet – probably from the shower he had taken after the game. A blue ‘Maple Leaves’ sweater was covering his large frame, a red flush on his cheeks.

“The game ended an hour ago,” his voice was different than you expected, “What are you still doing here?”

“I – uh – I left my scarf.”

He tilted his head, his eyes traveling over your scarf-less frame.

Your eyes widened as he chuckled lightly, “I – it’s not here – obviously. So I think someone probably took it – which really sucks cause it was collectible and cost a lot – but,” you cut yourself off, swallowing as you felt your entire body get hot.

Shut up, you scolded yourself.

“That’s a shame,” he nodded, making you look back up, his tongue running over his lower lip as he looked down at you. You nodded, your throat dry – unsure what to say.

“Well – ”

“I – ”

You both spoke, your cheeks heating again as you faltered, “You first.”

“I was going to ask,” he bit his lip, shaking his head slightly, “If – if you enjoyed the game. But that sounds dumb now …”

He trailed off, a blush coating his cheeks, as he looked away, his gaze traveling to the rink.

“No!” You coughed, recovering quickly, “It’s not dumb. I had a lot of fun – it was the best game I’ve ever been to actually.”

He blinked, a wide smile spreading over him, “Really?”

You nodded, shyly tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “Yeah. And that goal two minutes before the end. Wow.”

He chuckled, the sound one of the prettiest you’ve ever heard, “That was fun.”

“I’m – uh – ,” he extended his hand, “I’m Shawn by the way.”

You took his larger hand into your grip, shaking it slightly. You had to resist nodding and saying ‘yeah I know – you’re the hottest person I’ve ever seen,’ instead you just smiled warmly, “I’m y/n.”

“Shawn!”

You flinched at the sound of the voice, pulling your hand from his grasp and latching it to your side as you both turned back to see some older man waving him forward. Shawn nodded at him, before turning back to you quickly, “I should go, it was nice meeting you, y/n.”

You shivered at the sound of your name leaving his lips as he smiled, nodding, “It was nice to meet you as well.”

He grinned again, dipping his head and turning to walk away, leaving you completely dumbstruck.

You exhaled as you watched his back get farther and farther from view. It took a few seconds for your heart to finally calm down, no longer feeling like it was going to burst out of your chest. You should have asked for a picture.

Four days later you were seated in the boardroom of CL-LM, the radio station you had been interning at for the past few months.

You were sat in the back, taking notes of everything that was being said. You had been at it for the past hour – your hand cramping at the strain.

“I have one final announcement before I let you all go,” John spoke, your back immediately straightening out as you got ready to leave.

“I’d appreciate if everyone stayed out of recording room C, for the next few hours – because of the special guest we have in today.”

Everyone mutters sounds of agreement and soon the entire room was filling out. You debated asking John about the mysterious guest everyone had been talking about for the past few days, but you decided against it, deciding not to meddle with things that didn’t concern you. You thought about waiting around the entrance to see who would leave, but people would probably think you were weird –and you could not lose this internship.

“Y/n!” John’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts, as you smiled lightly, looking up at him.

“Could you please go bring Stefan some coffee, he’s asked for it about twenty times.”

You perked up at the name; Stefan was the one running the interview with the mystery guest.

John shook his head, “I don’t mean to interrupt you from your work, I can ask someone else if – ”

“No!” You practically shouted, before clearing your throat, “No, I can do it. I already know his order – it really wouldn’t be a problem.”

He nodded, “Thank you, you’re a lifesaver.”

You smiled, already making your way out the door and to the elevators. You were lucky that you had a Starbucks situated in the building so it was really no problem for you quickly order and be back in the office in minutes.

You took a deep breath as you prepared to walk into room C. You wondered who was inside, trying to rack your brain of all the celebrities the station hadn’t already featured. They had a pretty good reputation with a –list people.

You gripped the handle, cracking to door open just a smidge, your eyes meeting Dallin – the interview coordinator – who smiled widely and gestured for you to enter.

You made sure the door didn’t creak, trying to shut it as discreetly as possible – not wanting to disrupt the conversation.

“Was there any hazing on the team?” You heard Stefan’s voice behind you as you placed his coffee on the snack table, knowing he would get it when he was ready.

“No.” You heard the guest laugh. You went still, your entire body covering in goosebumps as you recognized the voice, slowly turning around. “They were all really supportive. They treat me more like a little brother.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach as you finally laid eyes on him. Shawn was smiling widely, his gaze focused on Stefan as he spoke. He was wearing the standard CL-LM headphones, a ‘Maple Leaves’ scarf loosely hung over his neck as he tapped the desk while he spoke.

You felt frozen in your spot, your mouth hanging open slightly as you watched him, enthralled with the way he talked. His hand raised as he spoke with emphasis, his mouth moving smoothly- showcasing his perfectly white teeth.

You felt a hand graze your back, making you flinch and step back, your mouth snapping shut. You looked over at Dallin who was smirking, gesturing to Shawn suggestively.

You rolled your eyes, trying to seem chill about the entire situation – but in reality, you were freaking the fuck out about being in the same room as Shawn again. He looked even better than you remembered.

“You wanna stay and watch?” Dallin leaned in to whisper, nudging your shoulder slightly.

You smiled sheepishly, “Can I?”

He shrugged, “Why not? They’re gonna finish soon anyway.”

You nodded, “Okay,” following him to the leather couch situated close to the interview table. You felt giddy as you walked up, your eyes trained on your feet as you moved to sit next to Dallin. You looked up at the sound of a cough, your eyes immediately traveling to look at Shawn – his gaze already trained on you.

He smiled as you made eye contact, dipping his head slightly as a form of greeting. You grinned in response, waving slightly, before looking away, trying to tame your flaming face.

The interview flew by quicker than you expected, as you tried to subtly watch Shawn – hoping that you didn’t seem like a complete stalker.

“And that’s a wrap,” Stefan smiled as the ‘on air’ light flashed off, taking his headphones off his ears and standing up to greet Shawn who did the same.

They shook hands, exchanging formalities and thanks before the two of them turned and walked around the table.

Dallin was quick to get up and extended a hand to Shawn, making you stand as they greeted one another.

You bit your lip as you tried to figure out the right way to greet him, not knowing if you should extend a hand or stay in your spot. He saved you the trouble, though, his grinning face turning to you as he stepped forward, “Y/n. It’s nice to see you again.”

You nodded, aware of the confused glances Dallin and Stefan sent you, “Nice to see you too,” you smiled, shocked that he remembered you, much less your name.

“You work here?” He tilted his head, your body feeling numb at the intensity of his gaze on you.

You shook your head, “I just intern for now, when I have time off Uni.”

He nodded, about to say something, when Dallin interrupted, “She’s our best!”

You chocked on your saliva as he smiled widely, winking at you - making you narrow your eyes at his inability to be subtle.

“I bet she is,” Shawn laughed, noticing the look on your face.

“Thank you again, for coming man,” Stefan gushed, happy that he hadn’t left yet.

“Oh yeah, anytime,” Shawn nodded, his eyes not leaving you. You had to look away, you eyes training on the carpet as the boys exchanged another round of goodbyes.

“Bye, y/n.” His voice snapped your head up, making you look at him, his smile warm an inviting as he opened the door, about to leave.

“Bye, Shawn,” you mumbled, feeling like you needed to pinch yourself as the door shut behind him.

“Stefan!” You scolded, rushing over hit his arm as he laughed at the expression on your face, “How dare you not tell me you were interviewing a ‘Maple Leaf’?! You know they’re my favorite team.”

“Sorry, y/n. It was confidential!”

“You could have told me!” You pouted, “I wouldn’t have said anything!”

“And lose my integrity?” He teased, “No thank you.”

You shook your head, “I’m never going to forgive you for this – ”

“Me?!” He shouted, “Did you ever plan to tell me you were buddy-buddy with one of the most famous people in the country?”

“I’m not,” you shook your head, “We barely know each other.”

“That’s not what it looked like,” Dallin snorted, “You guys were practically eye-fucking each other.”

You gasped, “Dallin – ”

The sound of a light knocking made you falter in your words as Stefan shouted for the person to enter. Your eyes widened as Shawn’s smiling face greeted the three of you, his gaze traveling over to you as he cleared his throat, “Sorry to bother, but I was wondering if I could talk to y/n?”

You blinked, your mouth unable to register the words that had left his perfectly sculpted mouth, “ I – ”

You felt Dallin nudge your back, lightly pushing you forward, “It’s no bother – she was about to go on break anyway.”

You smiled, reminding yourself to thank Dallin, as Shawn’s grin widened, his arm extending to open the door fully as you made your way to him, walking past into the open floor plan of the office.

You could feel shivers overcome you as the entire office got quiet, watching you walk toward the elevator, with one of the world’s most famous hockey players to your left.

You got into the elevator, pressing the button and leaning against one of the walls, hesitant to look up at him.

“I’m sorry to take up your break time,” his voice was so smooth, your eyes fluttering as you listened to him, “But I actually wanted to give you something.”

You tilted your head, “Me?”

He laughed, his eyes shutting for a second as he nodded, “Yes, you.”

But you still weren’t convinced, “Why?”

“Are you always this hesitant to accept gifts?” He smirked, his eyes not leaving yours as you shrugged, “Only when they’re from attractive hockey players.”

You froze, did you really just say that out loud? You could feel the familiar heat that only he seemed to induce, spread over your frame, “I – I meant – ”

“You think I’m attractive?” He tilted his head, his voice an octave lower than you were used to, the sound far more intimate than you would have expected.

“I – I,” you swallowed, your eyes flickering back to his face as you realized there was no point in lying, “Well, yeah.”

He smirked, but it seemed almost sheepish as his eyes traveled to the elevator doors – a beautiful rosy color filling his cheeks. Did you just make him blush?

“That’s a relief,” he said after a moment, his voice airy as he looked back over to you, “Because I think you’re one of the prettiest girls I’ve ever seen.”

A shiver traveled through you, your eyes not leaving his, “Yeah?”

He nodded, the small smile returning, “I don’t normally do this – but I was wondering if you wanted to go out sometime, with me?”

You had to resist the urge to giggle, his hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck as he waited for your response. He looked nervous, and it was the most adorable thing you had ever seen.

“I’d love to,” you smiled.

“Yeah?”

You loved the way his eyes crinkled when he grinned really wide, “Yeah.”

The ding of the elevator reaching the ground floor made you snap out of your trance, looking away from him and toward the door.

“After you,” he gestured, dramatically extending his arm as you giggled, shaking your head, but listening nonetheless.

You walked through the apartment lobby, stopping outside the door, as you hesitated to leave – having left your jacket upstairs.

“Can I have your number?” He said softly as you turned back around to face him.

You nodded, taking his phone into your hand, quickly typing in your number and debating what you should put as your contact name. You finally settled with ‘y/n :)’, handing him his phone, shuddering as his fingers grazed yours.

“I’ll call you,” he said, making you nod with probably the biggest, goofiest smile on your face, “I’ll be waiting.”

“I’m really happy to have seen you again,” he nodded, “I’ve been beating myself up for not asking you your number after the game.”

You covered your mouth as you giggled, your heart fluttering at the intensity in his eyes as he looked down at you, “I’m glad too.”

You could feel your phone vibrate in your back pocket, making you pull it out and internally groan at the words on the screen, “I’m sorry – but they’re requesting me upstairs.”

“I get it,” he smiled, “Duty calls.”

“I – uh – see you later, then,” you bit your lip, unsure what to say, wishing you could stay and talk to him longer.

“Soon,” he corrected.

“Soon.” You felt giddy, waving shyly and spinning on your heel to make your way back to the elevator.

“Y/n!” He called, making you halt in your movements and turn back to face him.

He was closer than you expected, his grinning face barely two feet away from you. You watched with wide eyes as he swung his scarf off his neck – bringing it over you and placing it around your shoulders, letting it hang down your front.

“Shawn – what?” You touched the fabric, your words getting lost in your mouth as you stared at him in shock.

“I said I had a gift for you, didn’t I?” He smiled, shrugging like it was no big deal, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

You shook your head, “I can’t – I can’t accept this.”

“Why not?”

“It’s too much,” you were quick to take it off, about to hand it to him again, but he stepped back immediately, bringing his hand up.

“No,” he shook his head with a teasing smirk, “Not taking it back.”

“Shawn…” you mumbled, gripping the soft fabric in your hands as you thrust it toward him, but he avoided your advances. His reflexes were faster than yours, his hands gripping your elbows, effectively halting your movements.

You blinked in shock, your body tensing at his closeness to you, the heat of his frame making your head spin.

“Please,” he mumbled, not releasing your arms, “I want to give it to you.”

You opened your mouth to disagree, but at the look in his eyes, you were quick to shut it again.

“I – ,” you swallowed, “Thank you. I don’t know what to say.”

He smiled, letting go of you, making you internally whimper at the loss of contact, “You don’t need to say anything, I’m happy to do it.”

You felt your phone vibrate again, making you shut your eyes in annoyance.

“You should probably go,” he mumbled, sounding like it was the last thing he wanted you to do, “I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

You nodded, “Yeah.”

He took a step back, his hands back in his pockets, his head dipping as he smiled again, “I’ll call you,” he repeated.

You laughed quietly, “You better.”

He called a few hours later, stating something along the lines of I’m sorry but I couldn’t wait any longer. You felt like you were on top of the world, your ecstasy only increasing as he asked to meet up on Friday, which was only two days away. You agreed without hesitation and immediately called Maia, who after screaming for a good five minutes – agreed to help you prepare.

It ended up being the perfect first date. He took you to his favorite little Italian place and you ended up sharing a cheese pizza – neither of you too keen to experiment with your food. The conversation flowed easily and you felt like you were floating as his warm eyes watched you, listening to every one of your stories with undivided attention. He walked you home that night, not coming in but kissing you softly on your front steps, a sensation you replayed countless times after.

Your next date was the next day, the two of you far too eager to spend more time getting to know each other. This date was a little more adventurous, Shawn sneaking you in the ‘Maple Leaves’ stadium after hours so you could skate on the freshly plowed ice. You were worried that you would embarrass yourself and fall on your face, but he didn’t let you get the chance – holding onto your hand tightly the entire time. You ended up getting pretty good by the end of the night, but it helped that he never let go of you, spinning you around the rink as the two of you laughed in the empty space. He took you back to his apartment and you shared hot cocoa on his couch while talking about your families. He drove you home and kissed you on the steps, promising to see you soon.

You saw him again a few days later, both of you far too busy with school and practice. You went to the movies and talked through the entire film, annoying the people in front of you – ultimately getting you kicked out of the theater. The two of you couldn’t care less though, your laughter unstoppable as you ran to his car in the rain. You ended up in his back seat, the two of you listening to the sound of the rain, talking about anything and everything and you realized that you never wanted to stop talking to him – never wanted to be in a world without his smile with you. He took you home and finally ended up coming inside, the two of you falling asleep on your couch – tangled up in a mess of blankets and completely ignoring the Disney movie on the screen.

Two weeks and three dates later, you were finally ready to give yourself to him, wanting nothing more than the feeling of his body against yours. You felt your stomach swirl as you neared his apartment, your heart beating out of your chest as you reached his apartment, ready to tell him how you felt – and hopefully make your relationship official.

You waited patiently as you rang the doorbell, biting your lip as you waited to see his grinning face.

You furrowed your eyebrows as a few minutes went by, deciding to ring one more time before calling him. You flinched in shock as the door swung open – a distressed

Shawn looking down at you as he ran a finger through his mess of curls. Your eyes widened as they traveled over his frame, he was shirtless, showcasing the abundance of tight muscles you could always feel through his shirts.

“Y/n?” He blinked, “What are you doing here?”

You could feel your chest tighten, “We agreed to hang out today, remember?”

His eyes flooded with realization as he cursed, “Shit – uh - now’s not the best time– ”

“Shawn?” You heard a feminine voice call from inside, your heart falling in your chest. You could see the panic in Shawn’s expression as he stepped forward, trying to grab your arm. You were quick to pull away, your back hitting the wall of the hallway as a beautiful blonde appeared from behind Shawn, her eyes narrowing as they fell over your frame, “Who’s this?”

You could feel your knees give out, your heart pounding in your chest as you refused to look up at Shawn, “No one,” you shook your head, sidestepping him as rushing toward the elevator.

You could hear Shawn shout something to her, but the sound was muffled in your ears as you tried to calm your breathing and the sensation of your heart was squeezing in your chest.

You could hear Shawn’s footsteps following you as he shouted your name, but you ignored him, practically sprinting down the long hallway.

“Y/n!” He repeated, his long legs reaching you quickly as he grabbed your elbow, spinning you around to face him.

“Let go of me!” You hissed, relishing in the look on his face as he flinched, never hear that type of anger in your voice.

“Please let me explain,” he muttered softly, his voice cracking as he begged silently.

You shook your head, “I have to go.”

“Y/n – ”

You ripped your arm from his grip as walked into the open elevator. You exhaled a shaky breath as you turned around, not expecting to see his heartbroken face staring back at you.

“Y/n…” he repeated, but you didn’t respond, a single tear traveling down your face as the doors began to shut – hiding you from him as you finally fell into a puddle of sobs.

You hadn’t left your apartment all day, your mind replaying the look on his face as the blonde revealed herself. You cried harder as you remembered the guilt in his eyes as he stared at you, your heart hurting more and more as you remembered the hopelessness you had felt in that moment.

You felt worthless, expendable. But most of all, you felt stupid for thinking someone as successful and attractive as him would ever be interested in someone like you. You seemed to set yourself up for heartbreak, letting yourself get sucked into the fantasy that was Shawn Mendes. The feeling of his eyes on you and his hand in yours – distracting you from the crushing reality that he was probably fucking another girl every other night.

You felt stupid for letting yourself get so worked up over someone you knew for barely a month, someone that wasn’t even your boyfriend. Someone that probably never even wanted to be.

You sniffled as the screen changed, the new episode of Deadly Class ending, filling you with more despair as you realized you no longer had anything to watch.

You shut the TV off, huffing as you fell back onto your couch, wrapping yourself tighter in your blanket as you shut your eyes – trying to ignore the ache in your chest.

You flinched as your doorbell rang, but ignored it – knowing it was probably him. You didn’t want to see him, you thought your last conversation made that pretty fucking clear, so you shut your eyes tighter and ignored as the knocking got louder.

You could hear muffled yelling from the other side of the door, but you ignored it, knowing he was probably going to leave soon.

Everything got silent after a few moments, indicating that he had left, making you sigh quietly – your relationship now officially over. You snuggled further into your pillow, gripping the blanket tighter as another tear slid down your face.

Your eyes snapped open as you heard the clicking of a lock, your blood running cold as you sat up, body numb as you sat up, hearing footsteps in your hallway.

“Who’s in here?” You called, hating how shaky your voice was.

“Y/n?” Shawn’s voice slightly calmed your nerves as he rounded the corner, his gaze falling to your shaking figure on the couch.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Your fear was quickly replaced with anger, “And how did you get in?”

He bit his lip, his eyes pooling with guilt as he stepped closer, “Maia gave me her key.”

You shut your eyes in annoyance, “I don’t want you here,” your voice was curt as you made a mental note to chew Maia out later.

“I’m sorry,” his walked closer, his hands in front of him as a sign of surrender, he seemed almost afraid, “But I have to explain. You have to hear –”

“Hear what Shawn?” You interrupted, your anger making him flinch, “Hear how you fucked that girl right before seeing me?”

He shook his head immediately, opening his mouth but you didn’t let him get a word out, “Doesn’t matter anyway, we were nothing anyway. You’re free to do whatever you want. Now please leave my apartment.”

He looked on the verge of tears, “You don’t mean that.”

Your lip trembled as you tried your hardest not to let your sobs start, not now, not in front of him. Especially when he was looking at you like a kicked puppy.

“You don’t mean that we didn’t mean anything. It meant something to me.” His voice was shaky, soft.

“Gina – she’s my ex-girlfriend. And y/n, please believe me when I say nothing happened.”

“You – ”

He ignored you, continuing his rant, “I guess she had a key made when we were together and never told me. That’s how she got into my apartment, waking me up in the process – that’s why I was shirtless. I was kicking her out when you came, that’s why – that’s why I acted like an ass.”

You swallowed, your mind swirling at the genuine sound of his voice, “How do I know that’s the truth?”

“Because I care about you, y/n. I care about you so so much and I would never do anything to ruin what we have. Please believe me.” You could see him getting closer to you, reaching the back of the couch, his soft eyes staring down at you, “I can’t lose you. Not like this. Not before I have the chance to officially ask you to be mine.”

“You – you want to be official?”

He smiled lightly, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, your body melting into his embrace as he wiped the stray tear on your face, “I want nothing more than to be able to call you mine.”

“I want that too,” you released a shaky breath, suddenly embarrassed for acting like a complete psychopath before you even knew the real story, “I’m – I’m sorry for not believing you.”

He shook his head sighing in relief as his hands wrapped around you, stuffing his face into the crook of your neck as he held you, “I realize how bad that must have looked – trust me, I would have reacted much worse.”

You hummed, “Really?”

“Mhm,” he placed a kiss on your neck, “I don’t want to see you with anyone other than me. You’re mine.”

Your eyes shut as he continued lightly placing kissing along your neck and jawline, “yours,” you breathed.

He groaned as those words left your mouth, his hands coming up to hold your face, not hesitating to connect your lips, his mouth encompassing yours passionately as you melted into him.

You moaned into him as his hands left your cheeks and traveled down your body, wrapping around your and pulling you into him. You relished in the feeling of his hard body pressed against yours, as you molded perfectly into one another.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, almost subconsciously as he reconnected your mouths, his tongue exploring you.

He reaches for the bottom of your shirt, lifting it over your head as he throws it behind you. You weren’t wearing a bra, his eyes widening as he takes in the sight of your naked chest. Perfect, he thought, running a finger lightly over a hardened nipple.

You release a breath, you back arching – bringing yourself closer to his hands, his eyes entranced by the sight before him. But you were impatient, grabbing the bottom of his shirt and pulling it off, revealing the body you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about since you saw it.

You begin tracing his chest, your arms traveling to wrap around his hard biceps as he leaned into you, taking your left nipple into his mouth, his warm tongue traveling over the sensitive skin.

“Shawn,” you gasped, your fingers digging into his arms as he hummed against your, “Bedroom, please.”

He moaned into your breast, releasing it with a pop as he came up to kiss you again – never getting tired of the feeling of his mouth against yours.

His hands wrapped around your thighs as he leaned forward, “Jump, baby.”

You hummed at the pet name, shivers covering your frame as your legs latched around his hips, his hands digging into the soft flesh of your ass – perfectly exposed for him through your shorts.

He had been to your bedroom once before, so he knew where he was headed, rushing up that stairs with you in his grasp. The two of you giggled, as you exchanged small kisses, feeling content and so so ready.

He placed you onto the bed softly, his hands immediately traveling to grip your shorts – pulling them, along with your panties, down in one fell swoop.

You gasped as the cold air hit you, his hands wrapping around your thighs to separate your legs for him, his tongue running over his lower lip as his eyes locked on you, “Such a pretty pussy.”

He slides a finger gently along your already wet clit, your legs twitching as he keeps them open, “Already soaked for me, eh?”

You nodded, your eyes shut as your back arched off the bed, Shawn slipping a single finger into you.

He’s rubbing your clit as his finger works in and out of you, your breaths picking up as he begins moving faster.

He slides the finger out before quickly adding another, muttering a soft fuck at the feeling, “So tight, can feel your cunt squeezing me. Can’t wait to be inside you.”

You groan at the words, your head falling to one side as you could feel him work you to your high, loving the way his dirty mouth egged you on.

You gasped as his mouth unexpectedly latched to your clit, sucking it gently, your lips flying open in a loud moan.

“Delicious,” he murmurs against you, picking up his speed, wanting to have you falling apart under him.

“Shawn!”

The sound of your voice and your ass picking up off the bed into him, made him smirk against your pussy, his tongue quickly replacing his fingers – stuffing you completely.

You can’t control yourself, your hands falling to his hair, gripping it tightly as you felt yourself fall apart – his name flying from your lips like a prayer.

You shook under him, you legs twitching as you came down from your high, Shawn working you through it.

“Fuck,” you muttered, your head falling back as he separated from your pussy, his mouth kissing along your thighs –giving you the chance to breathe after all the overwhelming pleasure.

“Gorgeous,” he said against your skin.

You hummed, your hands wrapping in his locks again – bringing him back up to you, smiling as you connected your mouth again.

He whimpered as you ran your tongue over his lip, biting the bottom one and releasing with a pop.

“Need you,” he spoke softly, making you shiver against him.

“Please,” you nodded.

“I don’t have any condoms.”

“I’m on birth control, you-you can come in me,” you mumbled as he ran his tongue over your neck.

His eyes roll back at your words, hands tightening their grip on your hips, “God, what are you doing to me?”

You smirked, pecking his lips quickly – your fingers finding their way to his hips – pushing on his jeans. He seemed to get your message – pulling his pants off in record time.

You licked your lips as your eyes landed on his very prominent bulge, practically bursting out of his boxers.

His boxers are off immediately, and you can feel yourself twitch as he palms his length. You’ve never seen anyone bigger – and you're suddenly worried that he’s not going to fit.

“Okay, baby?”

You blink, “You’re – you’re so big.”

He doesn’t respond, his eyes shutting as you lay back for him, lining your dripping center with his.

You bite your lip as you watch him hiss, running a hand over his dripping precum, “Ready?”

You nod quickly, your stomach swirling in anticipation. He thrusts into you slowly, both of you letting out moans of pleasure – your head falling back as your mouth opened.

“Fuck,” he muttered against you, bottoming out – his dick completely inside you, “You’re so fucking tight for me.”

You nod, your back arching as you wait for him to start moving, “For you.”

His jaw clenches as he starts rocking his hips, gently at first and then picking up speed. Soon, he’s pounding into you with such force that your eyes roll back and you're shaking under him.

“You like that?” He grunts into your neck, “You like my cock fucking your tight little hole, huh baby?”

You grip his arms again; unable to respond as the sensation of his length sliding in and out of you erases all other thoughts.

“I want to hear you say it,” his hand lightly slaps your ass, making you squeal against him.

“I love it, I – I fucking love it.”

You rock against him, gasping as he leans down to take your nipple into his mouth again.

The sensation is too much for you to bare and suddenly you can’t stop a “daddy,” from flying out of you.

You tense, your eyes flying open as you make eye contact with him, not expecting that to come from you. You don’t know what to say, scared he’s going to reject you, look away in disgust.

He surprises you, smirking instead and pulling out of your hole – before thrusting back inside –hitting the deepest parts of you, relishing in your moans, “Naughty girl.”

He’s pounding into you again, his teeth grazing your jaw as he growls against you, “Say it again.”

You smirk, loving that he’s just as dirty as you, “You make me feel so good, daddy.”

He pulls out of you, causing a whimper to fly from your lips as he spins you around – setting you on your hands and knees.

He takes his length in his hand, pumping slowly as he trails the tip over your dripping cunt, making you squeeze your legs in anticipation.

“Please, Shawn.”

He slaps your ass, pulling you back into him, his hard dick pressed against your flesh, “That’s not what you call me, baby.”

“Daddy, please,” you’re quick to correct yourself, wanting him inside you. He kneads your skin in his big hands, lining himself up with you – and suddenly he’s slamming into you and you’re screaming, your hands giving out as your head falls onto the mattress.

He starts his fast pace again, you’re twitching against him, but Shawn doesn’t stop. He keeps slamming his big, thick cock in and out of your wet pussy, knowing you’re so close to your high.

You’re whining, begging, tears pricking your eyes as his arm wraps around you to begin rubbing your clit.

“Daddy’s making his baby feel good, isn’t he?”

You bury your face into the pillow, your legs shaking as you clench around him. He lifts your ass, bringing you back into him, giving him better access to your twitching cunt.

“Need you to cum, baby. Need you to come with me, right on my cock.”

“Please daddy,” your throat is so sore, but you never want him to stop, “Please come inside me.”

His fingers quicken on your clit and you’re shaking uncontrollably, your entire body convulsing against him as you come.

Shawn grunts into you, biting your shoulder as his eyes shut at the feeling of you clenching around him – and suddenly he’s coming, his warm liquid filling you in spurts.

He halts his movements after a few seconds, the two of you breathing heavily. You love the feeling of his cock inside you, even if it’s not moving.

You’re both still for a moment, but soon he’s kissing down your body again – making you shudder as he pulls out of you.

You can feel him come drip out of you onto the mattress and suddenly you’re interested in how it looks – Shawn’s wide eyes trained on your spilling cunt.

“Look so beautiful,” he mumbles, massaging your hips lightly, “My cum dripping out of you.”

You whimper at his words, watching as he stands from your bed, disappearing into the bathroom and coming back out with a towel.

“What’re you - ?”

“Lay back down, baby,” he kisses your forehead, “Gonna clean you up.”

You relish in the look in his eyes as he slides the towel between your thighs, wiping away all the juices.

He tosses it into your hamper, crawling back up your body and falling down next to you – an arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you into him.

You hum as he places your sheet over the two of you, wrapping yourself in his warmth.

“Goodnight, baby,” he kisses your head again.

You’re too fucked out to respond, humming as you cuddle into him.

taglist: @yourwonderbelle @tw-stydiaaf @alone-in-madness @egg-in-a-spork @musiclover1263 @spideyshcllands

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ladyboltontoyou · 6 years

Text

Arthur Morgan x Reader: Farmer’s Daughter. 2

Warnings: Cursing probably. Smut.

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Reader

A/N: HELLO AGAIN. Listened to ‘Home’ by Edward Sharpe and The Magnetic Zeros while I wrote this lmao.(Okay I listened to it like three times in the span of the three hours it took me to write this) You should all listen to it, gave me young Arthur x reader vibes tbh, it’s super cute and happy. RIGHT OK so I hope you guys like this one as much as you enjoyed the first one, didn’t plan this to be more than a one-shot but more than one person wanted it to be so here I am. Hope the smut didn’t feel too rushed! I was going to do a few time skips but this just felt right to me. Thanks so much for your notes, comments, and reblogs, they mean the world to me.

It had been a week without any sign from Arthur, and on the seventh day you had almost given up hope. But he showed up right when you were about to fall asleep, knocking over a vase on your table when he climbed through the window it sat in front of.

You sat up in bed and pulled the sheets over you, frozen solid in fear for a good ten seconds before your eyes adjusted to the light and you made out Arthur picking up the vase from the floor.

“You scared the daylights out of me.” You whispered as you calmed down from the near heart attack.

“Your doors were locked, so I uh, knocked on the window. You didn’t wake up and, well, here I am.” He sounded slightly embarrassed, taking his jacket off to put on the floor. “Sorry about that.”

“You don’t need to do that, a little water is okay.” You said as you climbed to the foot of the bed, but his jacket had already soaked up the spilled liquid.

“Exactly. I’ve got other coats. At least it ain’t leather.” You both laughed a little at that and then you lit your bedside candle.

“Close the curtains, will you?”

He looked over his shoulder and realized he’d not only left the window open, but he gave a good view to anyone who looked up at the balcony. He quickly did as you asked, closing the window too. “You draw anything while I was gone?” He asked as he walked back over and sat in the chair at your table.

Another reason he was such a good man, he sat a respectable distance away from you when there was a whole bed he could have taken advantage of.

Which damn, you wished he would.

If there was anyone in the world who was sexually frustrated, it was a tie between you and Arthur. You had sex only once in your life, and it wasn’t even good. You had many other opportunities with pretty attractive people, but your family was almost constantly on you so you had no time to sneak away. And for Arthur, well, it’s self explanatory.

“A few things.” You admitted and crawled back to the head of your bed and pulled out the drawer of your nightstand. Your brand new sketch pad laid in there, your father had bought it for you a few days before since you had already filled up your last one.

“Really? Well, I’d love to see them.” He hated how vulnerable he felt then. Snuck into some girls room, knowing damn well he was a fool for being there. He fawned over you a little too much for his liking, last time he had butterflies over a girl he was very, very, very young. But that was the last thing on his mind for once. All he cared about now was the farmers daughter in her silk night-dress with the sketch book in her hands.

You opened to the first page where a simple sketch of a cat waited to be praised. “This is my cat Scully.”

Arthur got up from his seat and walked over to where you sat on the edge of the bed, squatting down at your knees so he could see properly. “Well, look at that.” He grinned and you handed the book over to him, which he gladly took. “How’d they get that?” He pointed to the right ear which was missing the top half.

You leaned over to look at what his finger pointed to and sighed. “One day when I was real young, I was playing outside and the neighbor's dog came over, guess he didn’t like how I smelt so he started growling at me. Scully, she saw me crying and came over, kicked its ass then chased it off.” You laughed when you remembered how your parents treated the cat afterward, taking her to the most expensive vet they could find. She was queen of the house from then on out.

Arthur snorted, his head bobbing slightly as he did so. “That so? She’s braver than any man I’ve ever met.”

You smiled and nodded in agreement. “You can go through them, there's only two more in there.” Your heart sped up in excitement when you remembered the last picture was something you’d done for him, a silhouette of him standing on your balcony overlooking your farm land.

He turned the page slow as to not wrinkle the expensive paper. When he saw the next one he raised his brows. “Christ, girl. You need to be selling these.”

The one he was looking at was a more detailed sketch, one you had done the day before. You still needed to do a little more shading on it, but it was mostly done. It was your parents sitting outside at the bench in your garden, they were both laughing and holding wine glasses. Your father had told your mother something funny and she was almost doubled over, one hand in front of her mouth and the other holding the glass outwards so she didn’t spill any on herself. They were surrounded by their roses and jasmine.

“How do you remember something like this?”

You shrugged with the biggest smile on your face and a blush in your cheeks. “Something like that just sticks.”

He looked up to you and shook his head before looking back down. “You’ve got me speechless.” He flipped to the next page and completely froze. He didn’t say anything for a minute, which worried you, but then he just let out a huff-like laugh of disbelief. “This me?” He knew it was him but for some reason he felt like he had to ask, just to hear you say it.

“Yes, it’s not weird, is it?” You asked while you chewed on your bottom lip nervously.

Arthur scoffed and stood up before sitting down on your bed next to you, his eyes on the paper the whole time. “I’ve never seen myself the way you draw me. Even though this is just my damn figure.”His words really hit you. You knew what he meant by it and although you wanted him to explain it himself you knew it was something he wouldn’t go into detail about. He probably didn’t even mean to say it, it was most likely a slip of his tongue.

After what seemed like several minutes he closed the book and handed it back to you. “No, this is for you.” You opened the book back open and cleanly tore the page out, handing it to the man sitting next to you.

“I appreciate it. I really do.” He said and walked over to the table, setting it down on top of his satchel. His hand lingered there momentarily, considering taking out his own journal and giving you the paper he had spent days perfecting. Anxiety gnawed at him and he pulled his hand away, turning back to you. “Sorry I didn’t come back earlier, by the way. Got caught up in some business and ended up in Valentine for a while.”

“No, don’t apologize.” You waved him off. “You didn’t even have to come back, we barely even know each other. You got what you came for the first time anyways, you could have taken my hundred dollar drawing and sold it to make yourself a rich man.”

He laughed and sat down at the foot of your bed, making sure to keep a proper distance from you so he wouldn’t scare you off. If only he knew you wanted the complete opposite. “Now, a hundred-dollars isn’t very rich, why do that when I could keep coming back and get more? That would be one hell of a business.”

Where on this cold earth did this man come from? How were you so lucky to know such a good person? Given, you had only seen him two times, but he had still made a name for himself. He had a good sense of humor, he was polite, and goddamn he praised your art like it was god. If there was one sure way to your heart it was through that. And not to mention he was incredibly attractive. Fit as could be, well-groomed yet he had this dangerous look about him that said he could put you down in two seconds flat if you tried him.

You wished he would.

In an attempt to clear the dirty thoughts that had flood your head you brought up a new subject. “The last time you were here you said my drawing was better than yours, you never answered me when I asked if you drew too.” You said and tried to look casual as you watched him for a reaction.

He cleared his throat and looked away from your gaze, his eyes landing on everything in the room besides you. “I said that? Of course I would. That sounds like something I’d say.” He laughed to try to chase his anxiety off. “Sure, I do. A little bit.”

“Do you have anything you could show me?” You asked and pulled your legs back up onto the bed, making yourself comfortable as you continued watching him. It was hard not to, every single thing he did was mesmerizing.

He scratched his chin and sighed. “Yeah, I do.” He reluctantly grabbed his satchel from the table and pulled his own journal from it. “They’re not the best, but, well, look for yourself. There’s some writin’ in there too, pay no mind to that.” He handed you the worn leather book and you flipped through it. It was mostly full of wildlife, plants and scenery.

“These are really good. This wolf looks like a photograph.” You said as you went through the pages. Some of his work was way better than anything you could ever dream of drawing, but he probably thought the same about yours. There were a few small doodles that made your heart melt, like one of a poodle that looked like he drew under sixty seconds.

You had gotten so wrapped up in looking at the pages you didn’t even notice the way he was looking at you. He looked at you like he was seeing something so magnificent, and if he dared look away he would miss something. The way your eyes scanned over the paper, the way you would smile when you saw something you found his drunk doodles, it made him feel like he was drunk then and there. He had almost forgotten about what he drew you, on the newest page. When your expression changed to something unreadable his heart sped up and he shifted anxiously on the bed.

“This is me?” Your voice was barely a whisper. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing, it was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen. Not because it was you, but because you knew it was the way he saw you. You were wearing that pretty white sundress you had worn the day he first saw you and you had jasmine flowers in your hair. You looked like you were in the middle of walking, your left hand trailing through the tall grass he had drawn you in. You had a small smile on your face and you were looking directly in front of you as if you knew you were being drawn. It looked amazing, so beautiful you couldn’t believe that was actually you. But sure enough it was identical. “I look so pretty.”

Arthur scratched the back of his head, torn between feeling utterly in love with you and feeling disgusted at how sappy and vulnerable he was. “I draw what I see.”

That was all you needed. You set the book down beside you and threw all your inhibitions out the window, crawling to the foot of the bed to kiss him. You took his face in your hands and pulled him towards you. His trimmed beard felt rough in your hands but you loved every bit of it. His lips felt even better against your own, they were hot and tasted raw as if he had been chewing on them for hours.

Arthur inhaled sharply through his nose, his eyes wide and his hands raised off his lap in surprise. He wanted to push you off because he knew it was wrong and you’d regret it later. He told himself you had to have been drinking, there was no way any woman like you would kiss someone like him.

You were the one to end the kiss, but only because you were running out of breath. It seemed he had been too, since when you parted he sucked in a breath.

“Now why did you do that?” He asked immediately, his voice faultering.

“I don’t know.” You admitted with a shrug and a soft laugh. “I just wanted to. I’m sorry, I should have asked. I just, really… really like you, Arthur. I know we haven’t been in the same room as each other a total of ten hours… but I don’t know. I’ve never felt like this. I don’t know what the normal thing to do is when you like someone like this.”

Arthur shook his head and sighed. “Don’t do that. Please. Don’t.”

“Give me a reason.” You were still so close you were practically touching, your knees a hair length apart. “Because I don’t see any good reason not to.”

“(Y/N), I’m not a good person. I don’t know if I’ll stay around here long, I don’t normally stay in one place for too long. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you, you’re a young beautiful woman. You could have any man, hell, any man or woman you’d ever want.”

“Really? Well, I want you.”

He sighed and closed his eyes, shaking his head again. “Don’t say that.”

“But it’s true, I want you, Arthur. I don’t want anyone else, not right now at least. And right now is all that matters.”

At your words he groaned, hearing the sentence ‘I want you’ coming from your mouth was too much for him. “But-”

You shut him up with another kiss, this one shorter but more heated. “Listen Arthur, I’m a big girl, okay? I won’t be heartbroken if we never see eachother again. I’ll be sad for a while, sure, but like you said. I’ve got my whole life. I’ll get over it.” You smiled and took off his hat, setting it beside him. “You think pretty highly of yourself if you think one night will be the end of me.”

Arthur laughed and finally looked at you. “You’re stubborn. You know that?”

“Of course I do. But now you’ve got me interested, what’s so good about you that you want to protect me from missing?” You questioned with an innocent smile, placing a hand on his knee.

He grew serious again and the playful smile disappeared. “(Y/N), I don’t think this is such a good idea.” He warned while he still had the mindset to think that deeply. Your hand on his knee wasn’t helping his good intentions. “If your folks-”

“Don’t worry about them. They sleep on the other side of the house with the river right outside their window. The only thing that will wake them is screaming, or the dogs outside. But don’t worry, I can be quiet.” You winked and took his hand in yours, impressed by how huge they seemed compared to you. “Please?”

There was no way of explaining how you got the idea to start kissing his fingers, it just felt right. Arthur closed his eyes and groaned in the ‘What have I gotten myself into’ type of way. There was no way he could say no to you, not when you were doing… that. “Christ, woman.” He hissed when you pulled him forwards towards the head of the bed.

He took a quick second to take his boots off and blow out the candle, providing you with a more comfortable sense of safety. There was no way anyone besides the two of you could see what was going on in your room.

He climbed back on the bed and kissed you, one hand on your cheek and one on the bed beside you. Arthur kissed so sensual and deep that you felt like you were kissing someone you had been married to for your entire life. Your heart swelled and all the blood made its way between your legs in a hurry. “Take this off.” You whispered against his mouth as you unbuttoned the front of his shirt.

He finished the rest of the buttons, sitting up on his knees to pull his arms out of the shirt. Once it was off he hurried back to kissing you like his life depended on it. He loved the feeling so much he totally forgot about the rest of his clothes and only stopped when you placed your toes on his belt buckle and gently pushed him back.

You smiled when he laughed and shook his head at you. “What? Don’t like taking your time?” He teased and lowered his hands to unbuckle his belt. The imagery mixed with the gentle clink of metal as he took his belt off drove you mad.

“I do once the clothes are off.” You meant to tease him back but you sounded far too serious. He had nothing to say to that so he just finished taking his belt off, laying it with his hat at the foot of the bed. When he leaned forward again you stopped him with your foot on his chest. “Keep going.”

“Maybe you should've been the one warning me.” He breathed and pulled his pants down his hips, standing from the bed to pull them off the rest of the way. “There’s no way I could have you just once.”

Good. You thought. You didn’t want him just once either.

Once he finally got his pants off you felt it was unfair that you were still fully clothed so you reached under your dress and pulled down your panties. He watched as you pulled them off of your raised feet with a look that just screamed sex. “Am I dreamin’?” He asked with a laugh, sliding back onto the bed in front of you.

“Come here and find out.” You grinned and spread your legs a bit, just enough to notice but not enough for him to see anything exciting.

“Jesus, woman.” His voice was barely a whisper and he leaned back into you, grabbing your waist gently to pull you flat on your back, his hips pressed flush against you. You could feel how hard he was through the thin fabric of his underwear and it drove you fucking crazy. He finally started taking the lead then and he slipped his hand between the two of you, sliding his fingers down your slick folds to your entrance. When he pushed a finger inside of you the both of you gasped, he didn’t expect you to feel so good around him.

“Oh, fuck.” You muttered and closed your eyes, grabbing onto his biceps. His arm muscles tensed under your touch, mostly his right arm since that was the one with its fingers inside you.

He kept at that for a while, curling it inside you in sync with the beat of his heart. You came just from that. When he felt you tense up around him mixed with the feeling of hot cum oozing down his hand he lost any patience he had left. He took his hand out from between your legs and kissed you again, using his right hand to take the last article of clothing he had off. When he pressed back down into you the breath hitched in your throat.

“God.” You moaned and moved your hands from his arms up to tangle into his hair. “I want you so bad, Arthur.”

As if he couldn’t be in any more of a hurry, you had to go and say that.

“You have no idea.” He said with a grunt and used a hand to guide the tip of his cock against you. He rubbed it up and down your slit a few times and you let out the filthiest sound he had ever heard. You locked your ankles around his back and pushed him into you, catching him by surprise.

The feeling of his cock fully inside of you was indescribable. You arched your back and rolled your head back into the pillows. He groaned and grabbed the bottom of your nightgown to pull off of you. You had to help him get it off your shoulders. After it finally came off he sighed, looking down at your body.

“You’re going to be the death of me.” He whispered and leaned back down into you. His thrusts were slow, but only for a few of them. Once he was sure you were ready he let himself go completely. You pulled his head down to yours and kissed him again as his cock drove in and out of you at a quick steady pace. He felt so amazing inside you, the feeling of his cock rubbing against that one special spot gave you your second orgasm.

Your third came when he rough handled you a little bit for the first time, he had grabbed your thighs roughly and slammed himself inside you about four times. The sheer force of it all knocked the air out of your lungs and left you paralyzed. The fourth time you came he had flipped you onto your stomach. The way he could manhandle you to easily was so hot to you that you swore you fell in love with him then.

When he pushed his cock back into you at the new angle was when you came, and god, he felt it. He almost came with you but he thankfully had the will to pull out and give himself a few seconds to calm down. Once he had enough time he continued fucking you into your mattress.

This all went on for what only felt like a few minutes. You had no idea that you’d actually been at it for nearly two hours. You probably would have gone longer if you didn’t decide to sit in his lap, that had been what finished him off.

When you were on top of him his cock reached deeper inside you than it had ever been before. He was stunned for a second, unable to move as you rode his cock and pulled his head back by his hair. When you sunk your teeth into his neck was when he truly lost it. He came undone in you, grabbing you by your hips and forcing you down further onto his length.

The noises that came from him sounded so primal it led you to your final orgasm. Thank god you came with him because there was no way he’d be able to go again after that. He’d be surprised if he had the energy to climb down that lattice and onto his horse.

No one said anything for a good while but that was okay. You couldn’t talk if you tried. You were too busy gasping for breath to form words.

Arthur was the first to speak. “I should probably leave now, I told Dutch I’d only be out a few minutes.” He sighed when he remembered that the older man had told him not to stay out too long since the law was keeping an eye out for them. You had no idea who Dutch was but you nodded anyways.

“Alright. I should go to sleep anyways, I’ve got to wake up early in the morning to go to town with my mother.”

Arthur nodded and ran a hand through his sweaty hair, noticing how messy it had become. Before he came over he had made sure it looked nice but now he was sure it looked as if he had no idea what a comb was.

You watched him pull his clothes back on, almost forgetting his hat and belt. He slipped your picture for him in his journal and safely secured it, sliding it back into his satchel.

After he gathered his things he gave you one last kiss at the doors, full of more passion than any others you had previously shared. “Could I come see you again sometime?” He asked after you parted with the most adorable smile on his face.

God. He was right in his warning, there was no way you could get over a smile like that.

“Arthur, you know the answer to that.”

#red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #rdr #rdr2 imagines #rdr2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x reader smut #arthur morgan imagines #rdr2 smut #rdr2 x reader #request #ask #myfanfic #farmersdaughter

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tristinai · 5 years

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WIP Meme

Tagged by the awesome @mordinette to share some of what I have been working on. Not sure yet if I will do anything with this, tbh. This is a Reed900 fic I have been writing. Takes place October 7th, 2040. After my other fic Russian Roulette. Enjoy :)

Gavin frowns as he scrutinizes his appearance in the bathroom mirror for what feels like the fiftieth time in as many minutes. He gingerly brushes his fingertips against the bit of silver that’s dotting his hairline. Thirty-eight fucking years old. If he’s honest with himself, he’s half-surprised he’s made it this long.

“Don’t see why the fuck we have to go to some uptight, snooty restaurant. Coulda picked any old bar, woulda been just as good, babe,” Gavin grumbles.

In truth, he’s not at all looking forward to spending a night of drinking overpriced champagne and ordering off a menu where he can’t pronounce half the shit on it. If he had it his way, they’d be drinking beers at Finnegan’s with Miller and Chen or spending the night in watching some of the classics. However, with the way things have been between him and Nines lately, he doesn’t want to complain too much, lest he hurt his boyfriend’s feelings.

Nines appears behind him and Gavin catches his boyfriend’s gaze in the mirror. All his displeasure melts away as he sees what the ex-gangster is wearing: the dark suit vest fits snugly on his chest, outlining his pectorals. His powder-blue tie makes his gray eyes look brighter behind his thick glasses and Gavin can already feel the stirrings of desire pool in his abdomen.

Huffing in amusement, Nines forces Gavin to turn around, leans in close enough that the detective catches his familiar cologne, and begins to fix Gavin’s messy tie. “Tonight is a night worth celebrating. I was unable to be with you last year. I want tonight to be...special.”

Nines’ lips pull in a tiny frown and Gavin also feels discomfort at the reminder of how things were between them the year before. He remembers being completely miserable that night, going on month two of life after Nines, and getting completed wasted at a nearby gay bar with Tina. At some point, he ditched her to get his cock sucked by someone whose name he can’t remember and Tina lost her shit on him the next day since she spent the rest of the night trying to find out where the hell he was. He can’t even be sure if he felt shittier about hooking up or for bailing on her but he had to spend the next month getting his best-friend-cred back.

Feeling guilty once again, Gavin forces a grin on his face. “This why you got me all dressed up to the ‘nines’?”

Nines smirks. “I like to think of it as, ‘taking out the trash’.”

“Ouch, babe.”

Pressing in close, Nines grasps Gavin by the hip, noses along the edge of his jaw. The detective’s breath hitches and he can’t help it, is craving more of the ex-gangster’s touch. His pulse racing, he slides a hand up the back of Nines’ neck, exhales shakily when his boyfriend’s lips ghost against his. But the god damn tease doesn’t even try to kiss him, chuckles as he gets Gavin worked up.

“If you are attempting to unwrap your ‘gift’ before we make it out of the penthouse, you will be sorely disappointed,” he says, pulling back when Gavin tries to press their lips together.

Gavin makes a face, tries to tug Nines back closer so he can finally steal that fucking kiss. “C’mon, babe. It’s my god damn birthday! Doesn’t that mean you’re my slave for a day or some shit like that?”

“Is that what you want?” Nines asks, bemused.

“Fucking right it is.”

Nines disentangles himself from Gavin’s embrace. And he laughs. A loud, throaty laugh. Gavin glares at him.

“It is rather endearing that you think in a slave/master role play, I would be the slave.”

“No, not—it’s just a thing people do! Like, you need to be nice to me and shit. And we do whatever the fuck I want because...you know, it’s my birthday.”

“We do whatever it is you want every day,” Nines points out.

No, Gavin thinks, with a hint of bitterness. We actually don’t.

It’s been going on for some time now, this growing rift between them. Gavin can’t pinpoint the moment it started but he recently began to notice that Nines is around a lot less. Random lunch breaks where his boyfriend pops in occur less and less frequently and most days of the week, Gavin’s already snoring away in their bed when Nines finally crawls in beside him. Nines is usually gone before Gavin wakes up and Gavin’s lucky if he gets to spend any part of his evening, or his days off, with the ex-gangster. He doesn’t want to complain, though, because this was the exact reason many of his exes had left him or cheated on him back when he was in his 20s and Gavin doesn’t want to be that kind of asshole who tells his boyfriend to choose between him and his job.

Still...why in the fuck does Nines even give a shit about Cyberlife? After Chloe fucked with both of them, he’d think Nines would want little to do with the company when he can help it. Then again, maybe it’s because of his upgrades that Chloe’s got him by the balls and makes him attend all those press releases and conference calls with her.

When it comes to sex, well, that’s still happening. And it’s still fucking fantastic. But Gavin selfishly wishes he can have more of Nines to himself.

Nines seems to notice the mood Gavin’s slipped into and gently takes him by the hand. “I know I have not been around as much lately. However, after tonight, I hope you will see how serious I am about us, darling.”

Gavin’s gaze drops to where his hand sits in Nines’, the ring we wears glowing yellow. He then stares up at his boyfriend, mystified by what he could possibly mean.

Nines’ phone buzzes and he pulls it out of his pocket. “The driver is here.”

“We’re not taking your Aston Martin?”

Damn. Gavin was hoping Nines would let him drive it again, at least before he spends the night tossing back champagne.

“We both intend on drinking tonight so I have made use of company resources.”

“Chloe let you have the limo? You’re really going all out.”

He lets Nines tug him out of the bathroom, his boyfriend lacing their fingers together as he leads them to the elevator. Socks is running across the floor and weaves through Nines’ legs as he chases after a ball he’s flicking around, the bell on his collar chiming. The cyborg makes a face.

“Now I have cat hair on my pants.”

He begins to reach for the lint roller on the stand near the elevator.

“No time, babe.”

Gavin pulls his boyfriend inside with him. Nines attempts to leave but the detective won’t let him. “Gav—”

He kisses him heatedly, Nines’ protests dying against his lips. Almost immediately, his boyfriend is responding, parting his lips to allow Gavin to slide their tongues together. It’s wet, wanton, and completely filthy and has the detective so hard by the time the elevator reaches the first floor, he has to bite back a whine to go back upstairs and finish what they started.

“We will be late for our reservation,” Nines says, a splash of color on his cheeks. He adjusts himself, even has to take off his fogged up glasses and wipe off the lenses. He’s using his Niles voice now, sounds all him prim and proper. “Come, darling.”

Gavin smirks to himself. He loves mussing up Nines’ hair, doing anything to bring some of his chaos to the cyborg’s perfectly put together appearance. Nines’ vanity is something that hasn’t changed; if anything, with the new, gorgeous face he wears, has the ex-gangster constantly preening since any time he steps out, he might be called in for impromptu press releases or meetings with potential Cyberlife investors.

Gavin’s really gonna have to talk to Chloe about cutting his boyfriend some fucking slack. Not that she would even take his calls. But it’s fucking ridiculous that even tonight, after being assured multiple times Nines has the night off, Gavin still feels anxious that Nines might be called away in the middle of their dinner.

He buries that uncomfortable feeling as they step outside. At least the weather’s nice, with only the hint of a breeze. A white limo sits outside the condominium entrance.

“Good evening, Mr. Deckert!”

“Ralph...” The ex-gangster starts, his tone highly critical. As Ralph practically falls out of the driver’s seat, his hat askew, Nines’ eyes narrow. “Do I want to ask how you ended up in such a state?”

Ralph grins widely, straightens up, and bounces on the balls of his feet. Pieces of colorful confetti stick to his hair and clothing, and streamers curl around his arms and legs as if the poor kid lost an epic fight against a pile of decorations. But it does little to dampen the kid’s mood. If anything, he seems more excitable than usual. “It’s the detective’s birthday! So Ralph helped!”

He all but throws open the door of the limo, smiling from ear-to-ear as Gavin and Nines peer inside. Colorful streamers, confetti, and balloons are strewn haphazardly across the floor and seats in an uncoordinated disaster, an uneven garland that reads HAPPY BIRTHDAY already half falling where it is suspended from the roof. The disapproval has Nines glaring incredulously at Ralph, who still looks far too pleased with himself.

“Ralph...”

Gavin hears the dangerous edge in his boyfriend’s voice and knows the ex-gangster is two seconds away from losing his shit on his ‘personal assistant’.

“It’s fucking great!” Gavin says, clapping Ralph’s shoulder enthusiastically. “Best fucking gift I got all day!”

Ralph’s eyes widen and he swears the kid’s almost having a heart attack from receiving such praise. It’s all the warning Gavin has before Ralph’s throwing his arms around the detective and hugging him tightly. Gavin grunts because damn, the kid’s got quite the grip, but then he’s awkwardly hugging Ralph back.

“Ralph knew the detective would like it!”

With an irate sigh, Nines says, “We have a reservation, Ralph.”

Pulling back, Ralph makes a face. Something strikes Gavin very odd about the expression he wears. “Ralph liked RK better before the change.”

...what the fuck does that mean?

Nines’ face is unreadable and Gavin can’t explain it but there’s something almost unsettling about the way the two stare at each other. Then, the ex-gangster’s lips curl in a sneer and he says, with quiet admonishment, “Ralph, you know we do not talk of Cyberlife affairs outside of Cyberlife.”

Ralph looks as if he has more that he wants to say but instead, the kid falls into a quiet anger, shutting the door behind Gavin as he gets in after Nines. Nines makes a show of swiping off confetti from his seat before he settles stiffly onto the leather.

“What the hell was that about?” Gavin asks.

“Ralph is still upset that Chloe had to shut RK down,” Nines says, nonchalantly. “He was strangely attached to that machine.”

His gut is telling him that there’s more to it than that but Gavin notes the way Nines’ hands curl into fists on his lap. Whatever Ralph meant, it’s enough that all the warning signs are there for an argument and it’s one that Gavin’s in no mood to get into, especially when he really doesn’t give a shit about some creepy ass robot. The less of them in the world, the better.

#my writing #dbh fanfic #reed900 #dbh #detroit become human #gavin x rk900

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evans-heaven · 5 years

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My (spoiler free) Knives Out Review 🔪🔪🔪

No one asked for this but I’m doing it anyway cause I have way too much time on my hands lol. Please don’t take me seriously on this, I’m no professional film critic, just someone who loved this movie with every fiber of her being and wants to share why. This is all in good fun so kindly keep that in mind :) I’ll be giving my honest review of the movie itself and my opinion on some of the performances- which will remain completely unbiased.

Just kidding! Y’all know how I feel about Chris lol, he’s my fave so lbr, he was my favorite part of the film and no one comes close to him :)

That being said, let’s jump into this semi unbiased (also unedited cause I’m lazy) review!!

The actors:

Daniel Craig

I’m not too familiar with his past work outside of the Bond films so I went in pretty blind in terms of what to expect from him. Ngl, it took a lot outta me to get past that Foghorn Leghorn ass accent lol, but Benny definitely grew on me. Just the way he carried himself had me so enthralled in his character, and I commend Daniel for that. His performance was one of the stand outs. A favorite character of mine, hands down.

Ana De Armas

Honestly, its damn near impossible to leave the cinema without being blown away by this girl. I didn’t know much of her before this film, but I know for sure its gonna carry her places. Marta was brought to life by her in one of the most beautiful, yet heartbreaking ways. She played the role of a devoted, kind hearted nurse perfectly, and I can absolutely see why she’s receiving so much praise.

Christopher Plummer

I’ll start off by saying, his chemistry with Ana was unmatched. And, to be honest, it had to be, for the depth of the relationship between Harlan and Marta to really be felt. *That* scene (those who have seen the film will know) had my heart pounding in my chest, the way it was executed by him was brilliant and nerve wracking and I’d be damned if I didn’t say it almost gave me a panic attack. I literally felt what Marta was feeling-Christopher’s performance was THAT real and THAT captivating.

Toni Collette

Had. Me. Dying. She’s another actor who I think deserves way more praise. Joni’s energy during the entire film is just laughable, even if its just a small snippet of her doing yoga, or one of her (quotable af) one liners.

Jamie Lee Curtis

I’m pretty familiar with Jamie so I knew she would deliver-and she did, and I loved her character. I think she deserves way more praise than she’s getting tbh. Linda was a whole ass mood throughout the entire film. She cut no bullshit and didn’t take any from anyone. It was pretty clear she was hanging by a thread amidst all the drama. And with that dysfunctional ass family, who could blame her lmfao.

Chris Evans (aka the absolute light and love of my life)

Give him the Golden Globe the SAG Award the Critics Choice Award the BAFTA and the Academy Award or so help me God I will burn every single one of them to the fucking ground for not giving him what he deserves right fucking now. He stole every single scene he was in, regardless of whether or not he just sat there with a (sexy af) smirk on his face. Didn’t matter if he was having an asshole moment, or if he had to be subtle, sly and soft spoken, Chris delivered flawlessly. I’m so damn proud of him for this performance more than any other. Why? Because after years of playing ‘Merica’s sweetheart, he switched it up and turned the tables on Hollywood and the general public proving he’s more than Steve or Cap, and he has the range and ability to be someone the total opposite. Again, flawlessly. Ransom kept us on our toes and we know damn well he can keep us on our knees too lmfao. Chris’ chemistry is palpable with everyone he interacts with and that just drew me to him even more (yes, it was possible lol). Whether you love to hate him or hate to love him, Hugh Ransom Drysdale just became an icon, because he was played by another icon himself who deserves every last bit of love and praise he is getting for this film.

But we have to be honest for a second here, the REAL star and scene stealer of this movie was that damn white sweater. Don’t get me wrong, the blue one was cute too, but the white one, man.... 😭

Overall film

The plot, the performances, the shock factor, the writing, the PERFORMANCES, goddamn, Rian Johnson created a whole masterpiece, and the cast truly made this film one worth the praise its receiving. Every last detail, you can tell, was well thought out and planted perfectly. It places the audience right in the middle of the case. All while being a fun, entertaining flick, its also one that keeps you at the edge of your seat, and you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. I’d watch with caution, cause you may or may not be leaving with a severe case of whip lash from all the twists and turns the plot takes. But, we love them anyway. Its a 96% on Rotten Tomatoes well earned for everyone involved.

My rating: 10/10, 5 stars,100%. Best I’ve seen this year in film. And you bet your ass I’m going to put myself through that rollercoaster of emotions all over again😜

Again, keep in mind this is all in good fun so please don’t be in my notes trying to criticize or police me lol

#knives out #rian johnson #Chris Evans #ana de armas #christopher plummer #jamie lee curtis #toni collette #daniel craig #elle being elle #knives out review

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cruddyborderlandstheories · 5 years

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Sanctuary-III: Demo Analysis

Hi again! I’m here to do my full Sanctuary-III analysis. (im back on my bullshit of actually structuring posts like a functioning human. holy mother of g-)

Tl;Dr: So from what I’ve gathered so far, Sanctuary-III looks like a Maliwan-inspired ship, but was actually built by a company named <SUPAMAX MFG>. I do think the ship we go on in the demo is taken from another part of the game, probably the time period when we’ve reached the Maliwan/Monastery planet of which I don’t know the name (the one we see Maya on). I understand that we can see Pandora in the demo, but it’d be easy to travel back there and simply remove the option for the monastery planet when we go to Promethea. I have a couple reasons for thinking this, so I’ll go over it when we get there.

For now, let’s get started :D

So, even though we’re going to be doing a full analysis of the demo, I did want to start with our previous sightings of the ship.

Ellie hanging onto a smaller version of the ship.

Lorelei resting her foot on a larger model

one hiding behind Zane near the car

better view below:

and a ship as we see it on the cover art:

notice I say A ship because there are definitely differences between this one and the Sanctuary-III we meet in the demo.

Most notably the colors/design, but also the back engines are missing from below the spoiler and the fins on the front are different shapes. Additionally, the one in the cover has windows that are significantly different from the demo and the engines in demo have fins coming off the tops that we don’t see here. I’ve been yelled at before that this isn’t a noticeable enough difference to think about, that the developers just decided to roll with it, but honestly I believe if the designers put that much time into ensuring the cover art has a dozen easter eggs to solve, why would they look at the ship and decide “eh, that’s good enough”? I wanna believe they’re not that laidback about this.

So I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt for now and provide a handful of theories as to what this cover art ship could be:

1. Sanctuary-II or an earlier model of Sanc-III (or both)

2. A shuttle used to move people to-and-from places Sanctuary-III is too large to access and the drop pods are too violent to hit (I’m thinking meteors/asteroids here) annnd hopefully we get to putz around space in one

3. A fully separate ship from Sanctuary-III that we’ll have to use later on in the game, either due to Sanctuary-III being destroyed, or other weird circumstances that would render it unavailable. Could possibly be used to reach Elpis?

Anyway, enough of that. Let’s get right into the thick of things with the actual ship from the demo!

This hit me right in the heart. I love that u can see Pandora in the background, too.

The actual ship! Do you see what I mean by those minor differences to the cover art ship? Moving on.

The reason I thought this ship was mainly because of the huge swaths of orange and the blue engines/bridge. I had thought it was Atlas as well at one point, but retracted both those statements when I saw the name of the manufacturer printed everywhere inside lol

It is possible it was made specifically for either of those companies. I am leaning towards Maliwan, so I’ll point out my reasons why as we move through this.

Also, check out the docking bay on the bottom there. That door leads to the large room we see Ellie in. I think the fins on the front of the ship are to hold it up when it’s landed so we can drive vehicles out the bottom. I am hoping for a scene near endgame where the ship is shielding us from huge attacks from above as we drive out of the bottom and, right as we escape, it collapses behind us. Fingers crossed.

the back of the ship. And the engines I mention you can’t see protruding out the back on the cover art.

Oh, and say hi to the CoV!

that’s where Troy’s sword gets launched from orbit

as we zoom in, we can see a whole bunch of things

to start, looks like Hyperion got some nice rebranding. I hope Blake took over tbh

a poster of moxxxi’s. I love the feather in her hat; I wonder if that means her a mordy got back together...

also im going to take the time to point out

how much I love that each Vault Hunter gets something that glows. Amara has her tattoos (and she can customize the color!), Fl4k has their eye, Moze has Iron Bear’s digistruct pack, and Zane has a cool jacket. Rock on my babies, you’re all beautiful. Oh, and the whole teleporting animation for this, I don’t know if its like a “first time” only thing or what, but I love it, I love it so much. I’m so glad we’re going to be able to see our Vault Hunters in the third person.

okay moving on

so right away you notice the guide telling you where places are, with arrows point in different directions. It’s quite hard to read at the moment, but we do see it again later.

We all know about the quick change station and the lost-and-found, so I don’t think I ought to go over those right now.

claptrap seems to have his own little cereal or something, not sure if that’s been sighted anywhere else, but im afraid for anyone who eats it

player quarters! holy balls im so excited for these

We can see the display cases everywhere, but there’s also a vault (not that kind) in the back left. I imagine that’s the bank. Hoooopefully we get a larger storage capacity or my mule characters are gonna have a ton of new buddies to talk to lol

better look at the cereals.

also apparently that water bottle we see in the Game of Thrones joke the twitter posted is an actual asset in the game.

While we have singular display cases for guns, it looks like items get their own display cases

it can show off rarity color and on the bottom left, you get to see exactly what you’re looking at. no more confusing grenade mods for shields in this house

a non-holographic poster for the Typhon Deleon movie. I think this is the first we’ve seen outside of Promethea. I guess Amara’s a fan.

A vault symbol rug, and the symbol spray painted onto her punching bag. I think that poster in the back is a Monty Python reference? I didn’t get quite a good look at it, we might see another one later on.

Amara has a window seat, I’m actually hoping we’ll be able to hang out in our rooms and look out the window at space. I would honestly spend so much time here. Also, regarding the bed (not pictured, that’s the window seat), I’m wondering if that will have any gameplay effects or if it's just aesthetics. I hope it’s at least bouncy...

she does have some jakobs crates holding up the plants. Don’t know if that has anything to do with her backstory or if its just to fit the aesthetic of her room.

we’re also told “again, you can modify your player quarters to how you want to play” which... I don’t know if I’m looking too deeply into that, but it seems like we’ll be able to pick and choose things like furniture or overall layout. I wonder if they’d let us cycle between the other VH’s rooms. Not sure exactly what it’s supposed to imply, but it is something to point out.

Our first look at the SUPAMAX MFG logo. “Ships made Quick��

We also get our first look at Ellie’s cargo bay. More on this later

behind the curtains to the left of here

a poster of Jack and some lootable washing machines. We’ve seen the poster before, from what I’ve heard it's a movie poster starring timothy doppleman. Which... What a legend.

Now, I do want to point out we see this logo next to the cargo bay

this is one of the reasons I thought the ship was Atlas at first, however you can tell there’s no gap on the right of the triangle and the bottom edges don’t match. I definitely think the new Atlas logo is a delta to signify change, though, cause Rhys is a big ol nerd.

some blueprints of the ship and a bunch of reused posters from BL2 thrown in for decor purposes. There’s another poster of Typhon to the left of that, but since we’ve already seen it, fuck ‘em

We also see a buttload of Maliwan crates hanging around the ship, matching the color design of the one we saw floating around space

here’s one of them!

a better look at the blueprints as a standalone poster. It looks like ‘Sanctuary’ was written over with something, but I can’t make out what. also checkout how the paint on top doesn’t match the paint on the cover art’s ship. Nor does the cover art have the fins coming off the engines like we see here. I actually just noticed that even the spoilers are different shapes.

Moving on before I go off on another tangent

a poster for Marcus’s shop

the new golden chest as Randy called it. I believe we’ve seen the animation already, where the guns splay upwards like a peacock or smth

a cowgirl hangin out on more Maliwan chests

Marcus’s new sign. Honestly? He’s rocking the bun.

this dude we find walking out of the store. Don’t know what his deal is, but I’m digging it.

this Amara already has 5/8 Pistol SDUs unlocked! (Also, there are 8 max SDUs) Makes me think she’s a high level character. That’ll come into play later lol

5/8 Backpack SDUS. I didn’t show it but she also had 1/8 Shotgun SDUs. Also only +3 to backpack space each. Considering Amara already has 5 unlocked, that means we get the regular 12 backpack space to start. D:

bank space only gets +2. Amara already has 2, meaning the bank can only hold 8 items without upgrades. F in chat for the big bank dreams. Max amount the bank can hold is 24. Somebody comfort me... hopefully these SDUs increase exponentially 😭

the mystery SDU. It looks like a box with a question mark on it, giving out guns and grenades. Makes me worry this is some form of loot box, but considering it can be bought with cash in-game, that’s probably a good sign. Maybe you can buy golden keys in game to open the gold chest now? Randy said no microtransactions and, while he is Randy, I want to believe him (disregarding the skins fiasco because we all knew that was coming).

since i’ve also seen speculation that it’s the upgrade for the capacity of the Lost-And-Found, I think that’s probably what this actually is.

the shooting range we can see from here. Doesn’t appear to have any targets yet, but it may be like the one in BL2 where they only appear when we enter.

more Maliwan boxes to the left of the shooting range.

Crew Quarters sign!

some very big (tm) Maliwan crates

tannis’s sign!

this NPC actually seems important, I’m wondering if she’ll give us a side quest or something

what i’m guessing is the power core to the ship. It’s in such a great place to get shot... i wonder if perhaps... we’re going to have to do that at some point...

“ain’t no place like space” I love this place.

also looks like there’s a shortcut here. You can see the planks across the pipes, the balcony, and the railing here that’s gonna be easy to get over. Excitement!

looks like a control panel right in front of the core. Yeah, there’s definitely going to be something related to it. Maybe we’ll get attacked and we have to go stabilize it. Maybe our ship will get hijacked and we’ll have to blow it up from the inside. I can’t be the only one who thinks this place is wayyy too grand to not get destroyed...

better look at that bad boy

the opening to moxxi’s bar

actual bar

i have no idea what this is, but i dig it. Also the zer0 for the O is making me go 🤔 i don’t THINK Zer0 would get involved, but then again, they are doing missions for Moxxi in Tales, so maybe the two got together to make something

this door seems different enough and detailed enough (red glowing light) to make me think we’re going to be unlocking this and going through it at some point. Then it shall glow green and make me happy instead of frustrated. the minimap, unfortunately, does not agree with me, but I want to believe. or that’s gonna bother me to no end. Maybe some sort of “we just escaped control core angel” situation, idk.

some slot machines. Ca$hTrap! and Tinx’s Hijinx. Looks like an NPC is using the latter though so idk if it will be available to use.

scoring system. Looks like the ??x row will give us a new character skin!! hype.

the uhhh... Lava Lamp column... will give us...? ???

A devil fruit?? A grenade? wtf is that???

3 bananas gives us new colors! Crowns = head

the... Eridium...? That seems way too pink to be Eridium tbqh. It reminds me more of Seraph crystals, but maybe its a reference to the ‘Eridium’ growing out of the ground on Promethea? ...... Maybe that’s growing because Atlas/Typhon actually DID open the Vault on Promethea

uh anyway

The last column is about more crystals and then cash and then the last one... I assume the icons are Claptrap’s eye (considering the game), but the reward? i think that’s the grenade the demo player gets in the demo

we’ve also got Loot Boxer (also taken by an NPC) and Vault Line. I’m wondering if the NPCs using the machines are just a gameplay mechanic and they’ll disappear after a certain level/event. Maybe those ones give us better loot. idk.

for Vault Line, i think that says “Knockout Prizes” but I could be wrong. More importantly, it looks like we can get legendaries from this one! First column shows a green/purple/yellow (legendary?) gun. I can’t tell what the other icons are meant to be, though. i think the next 3 are shields, then maybe class mods? or... grenade mods? i don’t know. The last one is a total blob for me, no ideas on that. Also wondering if that machine costs Eridium to play or something, 1) because of its design and 2) because the rewards seem sooo much better than Claptrap’s.

outside we see the Crew Quarters sign for the first time and, interestingly enough, a TV broadcasting the same symbol we see being broadcasted all across the CoV camps. What’s up with that?

infirmary and crew quarters signs on the wall this time

more Maliwan crap. even says it right on the tin. Why is there a pokeball on there?

a map of the ship. We see this on a bunch of monitors, even ones on Promethea, for some reason. This one is mirrored. dunno why.

more signs. Left top to bottom: “Cargo Bay” “Armory” “Infirmary”

Right top to bottom: “Engine Room” (OwO) “Crew Quarters” “Cargo Bay” “Armory” annnd nothing on the last line this bend around. when they turn the corner, you can see that it, too, says “infirmary”

Also, the Heatant and Coolant Pipes lmao

“LAB/SICK BAY” pointing to the left towards Tannis’s corner

so, here’s where we get our first glance at something very very interesting

now, the crew makes us think this is our first time visiting Promethea in the demo. But if it is, why are there Promethea civilians wandering around the ship? I believe i go over this some in an older post, but I’ll recap:

1) It could be that Sanctuary III was already in the air before the game starts and had already visited Promethea to take some Civilians off Rhys’s hands so he had less to worry about. That would mean that we’d need a shuttle or something to reach the ship in order to activate the fast travel station, which is (possibly) where the ship on the cover art could come in. Because in the borderlands universe, you need to reach a Fast Travel station first before you’re able to teleport to it and if Sanc III is flying and Lilith doesn’t have her powers, we’re stranded on Pandora. (Alternatively, the ship could come down from space, but... I kinda doubt it can without not being able to take off again. Maybe borderlands just has cooler spaceships... idk. They were able to make a caravan space capable). Unfortunately, this would mean those screencaps from the new trailer that looks like Sanctuary III being infested with wildlife would not take place on early-game Pandora/that we wouldn’t rescue the ship and claim it as our own. (We could possibly get Sanctuary III in the air in the new BL2 DLC if this is the case.) The ship getting infested then could take place above the Maliwan planet or Promethea or soon after we join the crew and we’re sent down there to clean it up as a side quest. Or there’s a time skip and the ship gets overrun and we have to fix it. Now that’d be rad...

2) gearbox is being sneaky beaky about the demo time. We do see Maya later on, which leads me to believe this takes place after we meet her. Where does it look like she’ll be? On the Maliwan/Monastery planet. It could be possible that the devs took the ship back to Pandora and simply removed the Maliwan planet from the list of places to take our ship. That would leave Promethea as an option while also explaining why there are both Promethean citizens and Maya on board. Could also explain Lilith having her tattoos back, since we don’t know the events of the story that lead to us going to find Maya. Though, I think I have an idea... I’ll leave that for my Maya masterpost though. Lilith also says “We arrived in one piece... that’s a first” when we travel to Promethea, leading me to believe either that’s where Sanctuary-II warped and got destroyed (maybe explaining why there are Promethea Civilians with us now), possibly in the asteroid fields, also maybe due to a mechanical failure, or Sanctuary-III, when it first went to Promethea with us, got a bit damaged by the rocks floating around Promethea or some other thing like the CoV attacking, idk. What are those rocks for, anyway? ....... I gotta make a post on that, don’t I? oi oi oi...

Moving on

the front of the Infirmary

....

this kinda looks like a baby T-Rex. There are T-Rexes on the swamp planet, which we now are assuming is Promethea, aren’t there? Oh hell yeah. If the swamp planet ISN’T Promethea I’m gonna be all like [shocked pikachu face]. that outskirts area was really making me believe.

anyway, see above lol

we also get another glimpse at the SUPAMAX logo

some lootables in the back

not sure if these are Maliwan or not.

Zed also has a machine in the back here. We haven’t seen him around yet, but odds are he’s still kicking because of this. And hopefully still friendly with the crimson raiders. Maybe Tannis locked him in a closet or something, idk.

oooo i haven’t seen this screen before

i want to know what it isssss

this also looks eerily familiar. brb, gonna go find what this reminds me of

okay, so

not sure if its exactly the same material/type of symbol, but this location, what i have dubbed the “temple” cuz i got no better name for it, does have square emblems across the floor with borders.

so, interestingly, this one has what looks like an eye with beams shooting out of it. if that description sounds familiar to you, it should, because

EYEBALL

now i got no idea if these are related aside from being in the same game, but it does interest me that they’ve both got eyeballs and streaky beams.

Oh and Tannis’s Vault symbol doesn’t have the writing (?) across the edges, but I will say, it does kinda look like cuneiform and eridian writing had a baby. Like, if you super heavily pixelate the Watcher’s name on her title card...

tbh I’ve theorized a lot about this place, but haven’t found anything I particularly like. From the place where the first Vault Atlas ever opened is (meaning its on Promethea and could explain why Tannis has that slab), the Great Vault’s holding place (where the skeleton on the ground is Typhon and his final journal) (perhaps the Great Vault is the entryway to the Eridian homeworld... that could explain why the CoV are trying to find it... might be a reason why they’re being manipulated by new aliens to find it. god please let them be the Seraphs...) uh, anyway, I also had an idea that it was someplace on the Maliwan planet, and maybe that it was in the archives area that was taken over by Maliwan and that the skeleton was of a Siren. That would explain why Maya is shown handing the book to Little Blue in the MoM. I go over that in an old post though, so moving on.

oh, there’s also a frame of Tannis’s animation where the dinosaur she was inside stands up and clips through the table:

there’s a small room over here we don’t get to see, and I’m wondering if there’s another NPC joining us on Sanctuary-III that isn’t showcased. god I hope if its pickle he got more bearable as he got older because dear god i hated him in tps. I can’t see Athena nor Janey with a desk like that. Maybe Vaughn? Though would he really want to go back to being an accountant after everything...?

more maliwan boxes btw. looks like someone scribbled on this one lol

now we head to the bridge!!!

looks like an arcade game lol

but possibly a control mechanism for shuttles coming in??? 👀 👀 👀

Crew Quarters and the SUPAMAX logo

oh yeah, and in case you were doubtful that this was a borderlands game:

“Caution: Excessive Farts Detected”

the Bridge!!!

We’ve got a holo-projector thing up front like we’ve seen Rhys use, as well as a mini one used as a digistructer during Lorelei’s hamburger quest. Most interesting, Lily has her tattoos! Definitely wondering if this takes place later on in the story or if they swapped her early game model in. either way, they’re definitely there.

some cool art of Sanctuary III zooming away

just have to say

i love this so much

its great

okay moving on

I wish they’d be more specific. do ruins = vault? Typhon says he discovers the Vault and the Key in one fell swoop. if Typhon DID give atlas the Vault key and the location to the Vault (and we’re not just listening to an ARG for the movie or smth) then why didn’t Atlas open it immediately?! I mean, in TFTBL Cassius says Gortys is their last ditch attempt at opening a Vault! So what the heck?? I can’t believe that it would be less than 200 years from the first Vault being discovered to the Eridians abandoning everything. like vault keys take 200 years to naturally charge so there’s no reason why it wouldn’t be already charged and available (Unless its more of a cycle thing where it charges and then discharges after a while for safety’s sake??).

And another thing, if that IS Eridium growing out of the ground on Promethea, then they totally DID open the first Vault. Or at least Typhon did. Unless there was something stopping them... like... Maybe in the temple those demon-looking-things stopped them from getting through and that’s why we find a bunch of skeletons around the place? Or maybe the Guardians got to them, or some other Eridian protection scheme. i don’t know... im so confused... brain hurt...

anyway

why the fuck does Elpis look like this

is that the light side of the moon? dear god im blind.

hhhh at least we can still see the crackening

lowkey wondering if the ship is based off of Eridian tech. I could totally see a slip-space drive being based off Lilith’s phasewalking

when we finish travelling, Lily says “We’ve arrived in one piece. that’s a first” and yeeah, i can see whyyy

rocks. rocks everywhere. tbh i think these rocks are 1) why lilith says that (we’ve either been to Promethea before in Sanc-III or Sanc-II got decimated slip jumping here) and 2) why the VH’s entry into Promethea is apparently so awful Lilith needs to ask if they’re actually still alive. also, we get to see just how much of Promethea is cities and goddamn. that’s a lot for a borderworld.

sorry for the youtube bar.

Deck A: Hammerlock - Infirmary/Tannis - Deck B: Marcus - Moxxi Deck C: Cargo Bay

I am honestly so curious how they got this ship with that lettering on it. I guess they could’ve made it themselves, but... you gotta wonder... maybe we get the ship built on Pandora by Ellie. Or she helps us fix it up after we remove all gross rat things from it.

MAYAAAAA

better look at the Monty poster plus some other stuff, like a clock, dartboard, and a gas mask. Also if anyone knows what that says up top there, please let me know, im super curious!

Hammerlock’s quarters!

this guy has the same facial hair as Zane. I swear to god if I hear “Oh, that’s me fourth brother” im gonna lose my absolute shit

something to the far left outside of Hammerlock’s quarters we’re not allowed to see yet :(

there’s also graffiti of “Charge port here” around the ship and i think that’s hilarious. It’s like an airport

put your ports in, damn it!

Ellie!!!

More maliwan boxes to her left, btw

the actual cargo bay. remember how i said to look at the bottom of sanctuary III to find the door? I’m like 90% sure that’s it right there. Randy also says “down here we can check out the vehicles we’ve collected AND this is how/where we get access to the planets while we’re in orbit”.

Crazy Earl’s black market! dunno how he’s actually, like, connected to the black market from here, but, hey, who knows what he’s got in there.

veteran rewards, apparently drawn over one of Marcus’s machines lol

“Inter-Galactic” a little drawing of Sanc-III and another Maliwan box (you can see why I think this ship is Maliwan, right?)

Clappy and his GF... yeah...

one very big digistruct pad. listen... im praying for a space shuttle. i really am.

finally:

the drop pod

god this looks awesome. I bet we’re gonna have many a fun time in there lol

I finally get to live out my dream of being an ODST in borderlands. what badasses they are.

#borderlands #borderlands 3 #bl3 #sanctuary 3 #sanctuary iii #sanctuary-iii #yeet #sanctuary

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