#how you get the girl tv

[two-beautayful-ghosts]

You stand there like a ghost. Shaking from the rain, rain. 🌧

This Love is glowing in the dark, ohhh.

[edwinspaynes]

This is going to change me as a person and I am never going to shut up about it. My brain chemistry will alter. I'll be made anew

[llovermore]

1989 TAYLOR’S VERSION HEADERS

1989 tv edits — parte 2

taylor swift: lyrics headers

like or reblog if you save!

give me credits if you repost ♡

[hazellevessque]

HOW YOU GET THE GIRL (TAYLOR’S VERISON)

IT GOT BETTER???? I DIDN’T KNOW THAT WAS POSSIBLE AUSHAUSJAHDHAHS

THE “YEAHHH” IN THE SECOND VERSE AKDHAJDJHSHDBJDA

[mytimemywinemyspirittmytrust]

AHHH I love the yeah-ah-YEAH in how you get the girl (tv) 🩵🩵🩵

[sugarcoatednightshade]

thinking about how Humans Are Space Orcs stories always talk about how indestructible humans are, our endurance, our ability to withstand common poisons, etc. and thats all well and good, its really fun to read, but it gets repetitive after a while because we aren't all like that.

And that got me thinking about why this trope is so common in the first place, and the conclusion I came to is actually kind of obvious if you think about it. Not everyone is allowed to go into space. This is true now, with the number of physical restrictions placed on astronauts (including height limits), but I imagine it's just as strict in some imaginary future where humans are first coming into contact with alien species. Because in that case there will definitely be military personnel alongside any possible diplomatic parties.

And I imagine that all interactions aliens have ever had up until this point have been with trained personnel. Even basic military troops conform to this standard, to some degree. So aliens meet us and they're shocked and horrified to discover that we have no obvious weaknesses, we're all either crazy smart or crazy strong (still always a little crazy, academia and war will do that to you), and not only that but we like, literally all the same height so there's no way to tell any of us apart.

And Humans Are Death Worlders stories spread throughout the galaxy. Years or decades or centuries of interspecies suspicion and hostilities preventing any alien from setting foot/claw/limb/appendage/etc. on Earth until slowly more beings are allowed to come through. And not just diplomats who keep to government buildings, but tourists. Exchange students. Temporary visitors granted permission to go wherever they please, so they go out in search of 'real terran culture' and what do they find?

Humans with innate heart defects that prevent them from drinking caffeine. Humans with chronic pain and chronic fatigue who lack the boundless endurance humans are supposedly famous for. Humans too tall or too short or too fat to be allowed into space. Humans who are so scared of the world they need to take pills just to function. Humans with IBS who can't stand spicy foods, capsaicin really is poison to them. Lactose intolerance and celiac disease, my god all the autoimmune disorders out there, humans who struggle to function because their own bodies fight them. Humans who bruise easily and take too long to heal. Humans who sustained one too many concussions and now struggle to talk and read and write. Humans who've had strokes. Humans who were born unable to talk or hear or speak, and humans who through some accident lost that ability later.

Aliens visit Earth, and do you know what they find? Humanity, in all its wholeness.

[wordsarelife]

—how you get the girl 

pairing: jj maybank x fem!routledge!reader

summary: the pogues don’t seem to be on the same page at dealing with your break up

warnings: cussing, fighting

notes: this was originially planned as my get him back fic for the guts masterlist, but i realised, that it didn't really fit the theme, so i just finished it differently lol

chaotic is my favorite type of genre... so enjoy!!!

"shit" kiara bend down and grabbed the book that just came flying out of the window

"oh they aren't done yet" said pope, outstretching his hand and catching another flying book.

"should we.. say something?" sarah looked at her friends questingly

"hell nah" john b shook his head

"this is just normal behaviour for them" kie let herself fall down in the lounge chair

"normal?" asked sarah, before she screeched in shock, diving out of the way before the shoe could hit her

"yeah" shrugged pope "we're used to this by now"

"aren't you like scared that you sister will get hurt?" sarah turned her head to john b, who just shrugged

"she's the one throwing things"

"o-kay" sarah sat down beneath the window in the hope to not get hit with anything "i'm sorry that i'm just grasping that now, but aren't they like in a happy relationship? why don't they just break up if they don't get along?"

"they never break up" said kiara "they don't fight often, but when they do, it's over"

"believe me, you don't want to be near them when it happens" john b exchanged a look with pope "one time pope accidently walked in on them fighting and y/n screamed at him"

"she's worse than my mother" said pope and he looked like he was having war flashbacks

"he cried" concluded kiara

"oh wow" sarah nodded, slowly understanding what was going on

the group stopped talking as the door got opened and jj and y/n stepped outside.

"hey guys!" kiara smiled innocently and sarah quickly noticed that it was best to act as if they didn't hear what had been going on "how are you both?"

"oh just fine" you said, smiling at your friends "jj and i broke up"

"you did what?" john b leaned forward and kiara mirrored his shocked facial expression

"so.. this is not normal, yeah?" whispered sarah, leaning over to pope

"eh, this never happened before" replied pope while not taking his eyes off of the broken up couple, watching them like a hawk

"we decided that it would be best if we ended things" jj said shrugging "it's as simple as that"

"simple?" asked kiara and she looked like her eye was twitching

"yes..?" you asked, not quiet grasping why everyone was so upset about your break up

"you've been dating for the past four years" john b flailed his arms dramatically "you can't just break up!"

"of course we can" you argued "because we just did"

jj looked at the time on his phone, before he held it up in your direction. "it's half past two"

"alright" you stood up and followed jj off the patio

"wait, where are you going?" kiara looked between you both and the rest of your friends

"i'll take her to work and then help my cousin in the workshop"

no one said a word at that and you guys left.

pope looked between his friends, shock still evident on his face. "so this is the new normal?" he whispered

"relax, they can't hear you" sarah laughed and all eyes went to her. none of the other found anything remotely funny in that moment

"i jinxed it" murmured kiara "i told sarah that they never break up and look where it's gotten us"

"why do you freak out about this?" asked sarah confused "i mean, of course it's sad, but if they say it's for the better?"

"uncharted territory, baby" john b declared dramatically

"yeah" kiara nodded "they are happy for a long time, then they have a big fight, they make up, which is disgusting, but works and then.. rinse and repeat"

"you got used to them dating so we can just get used to them.. not dating, right?" sarah questioned

"it's not this easy" kiara shook her head

"yeah, they've been together since puberty started and i think that had a big impact on who they are now" john b explained

"that's ridiculous" sarah laughed "she's your sister, you know her better than anyone"

"i knew her when she was dating jj and before that when she was pining after jj" john b gasped "i don't think i know her without him in the picture"

"john b" sarah sighed. she couldn't really believe what was going on right now. the pogues had always been pretty chill and normal, well obviously not when it came to the dating life of their friends

"he's right" pope said, interrupting sarah's train of thought. "you know jj and y/n, sarah. they are pretty unpredictable, but while they were together they would calm each other down"

"now they are like two wandering fire hazards" kiara exclaimed

"okay" sarah sighed "when you're so worried" she thought for a second "why don't we split up and watch them until they are done with the break up and hopefully not co-dependent anymore"

"pope?" john b turned to the boy

"it could work" pope nodded "as long as we keep possible outbreaks to a down low and maybe keep them away from each other, no one will get hurt"

"you're talking as if they would actually errupt like a volcano"

"we aren't joking, sarah" kie looked to the boys "the week before they started dating, the chateau nearly burned down"

sarah just nodded silently, not quiet believing what she was hearing, she would change her mind pretty quickly

sarah and kie drove to the ice cream shop you were working at, while pope and john b watched visited jj at his cousin's workshop

"ladies" you smiled as you noticed kie and sarah sitting at a table you served.

"hey girl" kie smiled brightly and sarah send her a confused look, until kie slapped her arm

sarah made a surprised sound, before she quickly said the first thing she could think of "howdy"

you send her a puzzled look, before you left the menu "i'll be back in a few minutes to take your orders" then you left the table still watching them suspiciously

"howdy?" kie asked horrified

"it's the first thing that came to mind"

"this is gonna be a long day" kie murmured "hopefully the boys are better at this than we are"

pope and john b had managed to be even worse

"so..uh single huh?" pope outstretched his arm to lean against the car jj was working on, but underestimated the distance and nearly knocked the mirror off

"relax, okay?" john b whispered

jj got up from under the car "i guess, yeah"

"so how about a tinder account?" before jj could answer pope's question john b had elbowed him in the stomach. pope bend over

"okay, what going on with you? you are acting stranger than usual" jj looked from one to the other

"we're.. adjusting" john b explained

"yeah, you and y/n have been together for forever"

"hhm" jj nodded "we dated a pretty long time"

"yeah, you shouldn't just give up on such a long relationship"

"i don't know guys" jj walked around the car to open the hood "we decided this together and she seemed happy with the decision"

"i bet she's crushed and just didn't want you to know" pope argued

"yeah" john b nodded enthusiastically "you know y/n, she's always trying to be tough. she's with the girls right now, i bet she's feeling horrible"

"i just feel so relived, you know?" you were currently joining sarah and kie at their table while you were on your break. each of you devouring your ice cream.

"you go, girl!" sarah encouraged

"i mean the time we were together was amazing, but i just think we need to let it go"

"do you still love him?" kie asked leaning forward

"i guess" you shrugged "i don't think you can just stop doing that"

"i think you made the right decision" sarah nodded and kie send her a wide eyed look "you should know when a relationship isn't worth staying for"

"you're right" you looked at your phone to check the time "thanks guys, but i need to get back to work" you stood up from the table and walked back into the kitchen

"okay what was that?"

"what?" sarah "i just tried to help"

"by telling her she made the right choice?"

"she didn't?"

"yes…no" kie shook her head "i don't know, okay? what i do know is that it's always been y/n and jj as long as i've known them. they might seem fine, but nothing will ever be the same and they were really great together"

"that might be true, kie" sarah smiled emphatically "but we need to respect our friends decision. and when y/n thinks she made the right one then we have to trust her" kie nodded slowly "we cannot force them to upkeep a relationship, just because we are scared that their break up will destroy the friend group"

"you're right"

after your shift ended you left the shop together with kie and sarah, who had waited for you. "you really didn't have to wait for me" you smiled while you climbed in the backseat of kie's car.

"no problem" kie smiled

"we just want you to know that we're here for you" sarah turned around to look at you "to catch you if you should fall"

"o-kay" you breathed confused "why would that happen exactly?"

"are you kidding?" sarah laughed "you just left a long term relationship, no need to hold back your tears"

"i don't really do crying"

"alright" kie interrupted, before sarah could give you anymore unsolicited advice "let's just get you home"

"so you really think it's worth another shot?" jj stood infront of the flower shop. pope and john b to each side of him

"she will so happy to have you back" john b encouraged

"yeah, bet she's crying her eyes out right now" pope grinned

"bro" john b shook his head at the boy

"y/n doesn't cry" jj said absently his eyes on the yellow chrysanthemums "okay" he nodded "i'll do it"

"there you go brother" john b patted his shoulder while pushing him towards the entry

pope and john b waited outside the shop for jj to return, while jj was being advised by a girl that seemed to be working in the shop. pope snapped a quick picture of jj inside the flower shop and send it to kie

you were sitting on your bed in the chateau, while kie and sarah were preparing snacks for you in the kitchen. they had practically begged to wait in your room.

your eyes flew over the words on your book page, when a sudden sound peeked your interest. it was kie's phone that had just received a message. your curiosity got the better of you and you unlocked the phone.

pope had sent a photo of jj inside a flower shop a cute girl talking to him. your eyes grew big and then you noticed the caption that sealed the deal. how you get the girl

it was almost instantly that tears blurred your vision and you wiped them away in confusion. you turned kie's phone around and got up from the bed, sitting down on the floor in front of it, opening the drawer underneath it.

the drawer was filled with jj's things and memories of your time together. that made you cry even more. you grabbed the first hoodie you could find and pulled it over your head. then you sorted through all the stuff, your bedroom floor quickly being filled with things from your past.

"woah" sarah nearly lost her hold on the bowl of chips as she noticed you on the floor "seems like she does cry" she whispered in kiara's direction

"hey sweetheart" kie sat down on the ground beside you and opened her arms so you could crawl into them

"he's moving on so fast" you cried "i want him to be happy, but not with my favorite taylor swift song"

sarah and kie exchanged a confused look 'what is she talking about?' sarah mouthed, but kie just shrugged

"guys?" john b's voice could be heard from the front door "jj is with us"

the mention of his name made you cry even harder

"could you deal with that?" kie asked and sarah nodded, walking out of the room

"i don't think she should see you right now"

"what's wrong with her?" john b asked worriedly

"she's crying"

"y/n's crying?" jj put the flowers on the kitchen counter and tried to walk around sarah

"yeah" sarah shrugged "we told her the break up was the right thing to do and she seemed fine. but now she's crying her eyes out"

"y/n doesn't cry, sarah" jj seemed serious now

"you told her the break up was the right decision?" john b asked and sarah nodded

"we told jj the opposite" pope whispered loudly

"i can hear you" jj rolled his eyes "can i see her, please?"

sarah stepped aside and jj walked into your bedroom, followed by the rest of your friends

"y/n" he said as he noticed your crying form

you looked up at his voice and jj's heart broke as he noticed your sad expression, but then your face quickly changed. you seemed angrier than any of your friends had ever seen you. you got up and tried to charge at jj, luckily kiara could hold you back just before you were able to hit jj with an uppercut

"woah" jj raised his hands jumping back at your outbreak

"my favorite taylor swift song? really, jj?" you screamed and tried to free yourself from kie, but her hold wouldn't budge

"what are you talking about?" jj screamed back

"the flower shop girl" you cried "you obviously moved on quicker than i did"

jj send a panicked look in his friends direction. “how do you know about the flower shop?”

“so you admit to flirting with her?”

“no?” jj asked baffled “so?” he urged

“i read a text pope send to kie” you shamefully admitted, reaching for the phone on the bed and holding it in jj’s direction.

his eyes flew over the display quickly, looking at the photo and reading the caption. “how you get the girl, pope? really?” he was as angry as you had been a second ago and could now totally understand how you had misinterpreted the photo without it’s context

pope looked guilty. “he was getting flowers for you, y/n!” he tried to explain “i just took a photo without context but i was hinting the song at jj getting you back! you have to believe me”

you looked at the boy and saw the sincerity in his eyes. “i do” you nodded “where are they?” you turned your head at jj

“where is who?”

“the flowers” you rolled your eyes but he could see a smile forming on your face

“they’re in the kitchen”

you followed him out of the room, where he presented you with the flowers. “you got yellow chrysanthemums for me?” you said softly tears welling up in your eyes again

“i think you permanently changed her” he joked to pope, who smiled uncomfortably. jj turned back to you “of course baby, i would do anything if i can get you back. breaking up was the dumbest decision ever, don’t you think?”

“yeah” you laughed. “broke your heart i’ll put it back together” you whispered, leaning your forehead against his.

“i would wait forever and ever” jj smiled, and then he kissed you and all was well.

“and that, my friends, is how you get the girl” said sarah, crossing her arms happily, all while she ignored her friends protests at her not really seeing the importance of the situation like they had all begged her to at first. instead she just watched y/n and jj kiss and smile at each other.

[hits-differently]

1989 (Taylor's Version) / How You Get The Girl

[guinevereslancelot]

what was with cameron house md she spends 90% of the episode saying she wants their patient to die bc he's a genocidal dictator and her colleague husband says "babe it bothers me for ethical reasons that you want our patient to die :(" and she said "hm maybe you're right :/" but when it comes down to it the genocidal dictator lays a finger on her in an aggressive manner and chase instantly commits medical malpractice to murder the guy and then when he tells her she LEAVES HIM bc boo hoo he's a murderer now like GIRL he killed a man for you!!! he's wracked with catholic guilt!!! he's being crushed beneath the weight of his sins because he chose his devotion to you over his devotion to god!!! he literally could not get any sexier at this moment in time!!!

[b1ttersweet-dreams]

and she's wearing down my rings taking the compliments meant for me and although i think i'll miss them at least there's proof of my existence a captive little soldier on her fingers deep behind enemy lines

[bettyshoweduptotheparty]

In the light of the 1989 re-launch it feels like a good time to remind people that you can safely take Taylor’s advice on How to get the girl because THAT is her girl ❤️

That girl walked into the lion’s den with her head held high, what an absolute star you are Karlie, we love you! 💕

[artelarium]

how you get the girl by taylor swift.

[nofacednerd]

been thinking about season 2 Hughie vs season 3 Hughie lately

[heavencasteel420]

It is amazing to me that the show has a character who:

Explicitly says “my father forced me to kill and I was good at it, but I hated it”;

Makes multiple efforts to walk away from a fight where his opponent is doing the absolute most to provoke him and, upon finally snapping, handily beats him;

Stabs a dude with a pair of scissors in self-defense and immediately looks horrified at himself; and

Can stomach all kinds of gross and scary shit unless it involves harm coming to his little brother, whom he obviously has a lot of baggage about protecting.

And a not-insignificant number of people are like “his neurosis is that he feels bad about not being a fighter or a badass.”

[hazellevessque]

TAYLOR LET ME IN

[lewkwoodnco]

Hii I wanted to request Anthony Lockwood×fem!reader with the song "How you get the girl." With them being friends and her being there when he opened the agency. All of them are on a case, and she almost gets ghost touched, so the drive home is very intense, then Lockwood gets mad at her for being reckless, she doesn't want to argue with him so she just goes to sleep crying, the next week Lockwood avoids her, and he sees a nightmare about her dying, so he pushes her even further away. She thinks that he is in love with Lucy because he is avoiding her and spending more time with Lucy. So she leaves the agency, and Anthony doesn't stop her because he thinks he is doing the right thing for her. Lucy and George miss the reader because they're very good friends, so they persuade Lockwood to tell the reader how he feels and bring her back, but Lockwood doesn't listen because he thinks it's for the better. Meanwhile, the reader gets very depressed because she misses them. After months of missing them, she can't do it anymore and tries to drown herself, but Lucy and George find her, so she gets angry at them and leaves. Lucy and George tell everything to Lockwood, who can't do it anymore. So he goes to the reader's house to confess and get her back.

How You Get the Girl - Lockwood x Reader

A/N: wooooo I’ve taken a long break from angst and this fic scratched all my itches hheheheh and in honour of 1989 TV!!! TW brief suicidal mentions but I try not to go into much detail, and goodnight god I need to sleeeeep wc: 4.8k

The four of them were in a cemetery, tasked to tackle three confirmed Lurkers. They were grateful it wasn't more, what with only half of them having decent Sight, but she was starting to feel bored, prodding the pebbles in the soil like some makeshift game, penned inside her iron chains near the gate. Lucy was also inside a different set of chains, but hers was inside the cemetery, where all the action was, and where she could somewhat help to look for the Sources. She had been more than ready to be the one standing nearer to the gate, but she was better at scaling walls so it was only logical to have her be the one inside in case...in case something went wrong with the gate.

Still, if George's yelling was any indication, they'd just found the second source, so it wouldn't be much longer now. They'd find the last source, pack up, and leave this dimly lit place which made her stomach churn.

"Where's the last one? I don't -" Lucy's scream tore into the night sky, cutting Lockwood off. She nearly fell over her rapier as she stumbled to her feet, hands growing clammy as she squinted through the cemetery's fog. She had never heard Lucy scream, let alone one filled with so much terror. Her mouth felt like rubber as she listened for something, anything, but was deafened by her heart pounding in her ears. Nothing. It was eerily quiet, as if none of them were there. She called out to her friends. Still nothing. She tried not to think about the last time Lockwood had been this quiet on a case. Turns out, he wasn't quite as chatty when bleeding out from a gunshot wound. Something similar must have happened now. His knees were probably buckling under himself right now, exhaling his last breath, as she stayed behind her chains like a coward. She heard a forlorn whisper - her own, even though she didn't register herself speaking.

"Lockwood. Lockwood?"

He was dead. She didn't know why, or how, but in that moment she knew for a fact that he was dead, or dying, and no one could bear to tell her. Sod the chains.

She tentatively stepped out of the circle, swallowing as her nausea increased tenfold. The crunch of the gravel beneath her boots seemed too loud for a night as quiet as this. The silence emanating solidified with every step she took, until the absence began to feel like something tangible. Her thoughts were running ahead of her, taunting her, preparing her for the worst sight imaginable. George with his head smashed upon? Lucy with her throat slashed? Lockwood, impaled on his own rapier?

She felt a prickling at the back of her neck, the kind that comes when a Visitor is too close. She lashed behind herself clumsily, rapier suddenly as bulky and unfamiliar as it was years back. She’d been in far more life-threatening situations, and yet now was the time she chose to have all her skills fly out of the window.

She felt a harsh jerk at her left elbow, and for the second time that night, she had an unpleasant swooping sensation of uncertainty twist her stomach. Fire spluttered inches from her face and she flinched, bumping into Lockwood, whose fingers had slipped from the crook of her elbow to her wrist. He looked around wildly, pulling his rapier back defensively, before she heard an unpleasant screech as her ears popped. Panic seeped out of her as she readjusted to the real world, becoming increasingly aware of his grip on her pulse. His hair was messed up and the side of his face glittered with soot, but he seemed too busy struggling with something himself to speak. He looked just as disconcerted as she felt, but the longer he observed her with trepidation in his eyes, she felt that it had more to do with her than the Lurkers.

“They...found the source?” She asked breathlessly, anything to break the silence.

“...yes.” He bit out, and she was thrown off by the venom in his voice. There was something different about him, something surlier. George gave a shout from behind and Lockwood snapped out of it, letting go of her wrist and moving away. By the time her wits had sufficiently returned, he was already finishing up some paperwork and George and Lucy had just finished loading their supplies into the cab. She tried to catch Lockwood's eye as he walked towards them, but he seemed to be aggressively avoiding her gaze. The crushing feeling was back. The cab ride was no less easy.

“Were you ghost-locked?” Lucy had picked up that something was off and she had the foresight to sit up front with the driver, while George was stuck between them. Lockwood, being Lockwood, wasn't about to wait until they reached home to start on her.

“No.” Couldn’t even see the bloody thing, she wanted to add, but she felt it wouldn’t help her case.

“Drawn out by the visitor?”

“No.” She felt the hot prick of shameful tears behind her eyes as she cradled her forehead. What had gotten into her? She had been embarrassingly paralysed for no good reason, rapier slack in her hand like an amateur trainee who couldn’t tell one end from the other.

“You of all people should know to stay within the chains. You know how little you can see. This isn’t your first Lurker - “

“I heard noises, and some screaming, and then it was dead quiet. I thought something terrible had happened.”

"What screaming?" It was harder for Lucy to follow the conversation from the front, but she still tried earnestly.

Her response died at her lips as she caught George's equally confused glance. The realisation dawned on her unpleasantly. Of course no one knew what she was talking about. There was no screaming. She should have known better, she did know better: Lurkers were notorious for causing visual and auditory hallucinations. Lockwood didn't wait for an answer, and pressed on heatedly.

“Even if she had screamed, your first instinct is to abandon your only form of protection? You’re not a newbie, L/N. So why I am I having to spell this out for you?”

“Spell what out for me?” It was a little more vicious than what the rest were accustomed to seeing, especially since very little of Lockwood riled her up this much after working with him for so long. But he hadn’t referred to her by her surname for years, and it stung.

“You could have died! You nearly did die. Never, have I ever seen a disregard for personal safety so deplorable. Really, what were you thinking?”

She rests her head against the cold window, the rattling a welcome relief to her pounding head, her exhaustion finally catching up to her, her words like loose marbles on her tongue. “I…I don’t know. I wasn’t- I was just…I wasn’t thinking.”

“Clearly.”

As far as misunderstandings went, theirs never went this far. Lockwood was an open book to her, and where he was stubborn she was even-tempered enough to knock some sense into him before things escalated this far. But this was new territory. She had never seen him this angry before and certainly never towards her, and she was too weak to shoulder his anger bravely. She could see the irritation behind the tension in his shoulders as he stabbed his rapier into their rapier stand near the front door, and felt her heart fold within itself even more. He jerked towards her like there was something he wanted to stay. A million words and feelings raced across his face. She opened her mouth, willing her fatigued mind to say something to patch the rift.

“I’m sorry.” She held her breath. “I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

Any other day, he would have sighed, maybe held off for a second or two, before pulling her into a half hug or ruffling her hair, and dragging her to the kitchen. Because where Lockwood was smooth and charismatic, she was clunky with words and sometimes she couldn’t find the right ones. But with Lockwood, she didn’t need to. He would take one look in her eyes and pluck the thought out with devastating grace. It was her and Lockwood, Lockwood and her, forever scampering to each other’s rooms across the hallway to tell the other about their latest inane thought, until George yelled at them to quit it.

But today was not any other day.

“If you pull a stunt like this again…I don’t know if I could trust you enough to stay safe on cases.”

Her voice was an ugly croak. “…what?”

“Y/N…I cannot, in good conscience, entertain or enable you in this-this suicidal-“

“Lockwood, it was an accident. You know that, right?”

“That’s besides the-“

“You can’t possibly think I did this on purpose!”

“I don’t know.”

His eyes dropped, and she felt tears stinging her eyes again. “You...don’t...know.” She echoed him distantly, turning over each syllable on her tongue carefully, voice as hollow as his. “You don’t know…what? You don’t know…me?”

Flashes of the life they built together ran through her mind. Patiently dusting the frames that cluttered the walls. Broaching the idea of starting an agency. Standing hours in line at DEPRAC to register said agency. Going to Arif’s for the first time. Weeks of singed hair and smoky air as they relentlessly shortlisted the most cost-effective suppliers for their kits. Getting over her first breakup and watching him laugh as she swore off dating forever. Cycling indoors on a rainy afternoon just for the hell of it, while George nagged at them incessantly. Buying a cake the day their paperwork was approved and it being smeared on DEPRAC’s certificate within a minute of it being cut. Getting yelled at by Barnes for the first time. Getting injured for the first time and having him excessively fuss over the cut. Arguing about their noses while waiting for their cab in the cold after a case (he insists they’re the same, and she disagrees, partly because she isn’t sure if she could handle knowing that). Framing their first (less than complimentary) news article. Him putting the kettle on in the mornings so that it’s just the right temperature by the time she comes down to the kitchen.

Somewhere along the line, she became acutely aware that the glow she felt watching him nibble at toast in bright spirits after a long case wasn’t completely normal, but then she forgot, because it didn’t matter at the time. But now it felt like it should.

He swallowed with a resolute set to his jaw that told her he wasn’t going to change his mind anytime soon. She felt a tremor run through her hand, a sudden urge to reach out and clench the lapels of his coat, to hold on to the misty silhouette of a friend who was quickly dissolving into thin air.

And then he was gone, and she was alone, and the rift deepened and gaped its visceral jaws in front of her, threatening to swallow her whole. She numbly got dressed for bed, forgetting about the slice on her forearm until she dragged it across her sheets. It smarted, but there was a comfort in the irritation and rawness.

That night, she dreamt of bicycles rolling along on hardwood floors, the shadows the library fire cast in the grooves of Lockwood's face, and rough walls she couldn't scale. She didn't know when she started to cry.

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"So we all slept like shit. Good to know."

George walked into an uncharacteristically silent kitchen. Lucy was glumly stirring her tea, Lockwood favoured the newspaper over breakfast that morning, and she had a plate of buttered toast in front of her that she kept forgetting about. "At least the two of you had the chains for, er, most of it."

"Please. It was just as bad inside the chains. I kept hearing my teammates die over, and over, and..." She covered Lucy's hand with one of her own, gently removing her spoon.

Breakfast was a sorry affair, and the rest of the week didn't fare much better either, and things reached a breaking point on Sunday. Lockwood shut himself up in the library to get their files and invoices straightened out. There we go, another first: first morning they didn't speak a word to each other. Lucy was busy with rapier practice and George went off to the Archives, so she decided to head out for some fresh air. She came home around lunchtime. George wasn't back yet, but she couldn't hear the jets going off in the basement. She crept upstairs, her stomach twisting at the sight in Lockwood's room.

He was seated on his bed, concerningly pale, talking to Lucy in a low voice. The scene looked so intimate she felt like an intruder just watching them. She tapped on his door, and their heads jumped apart.

"Everything okay?" She tried to keep her tone light, but Lucy's grave face and Lockwood still pointedly looking away didn't help. Lucy gave him a not-so-subtle kick and he grimaced. Her face fell.

"Sorry, I...didn't mean to intrude."

"No, no, it was nothing. We were just talking about yesterday's case. Right, Lockwood?"

"I'll just go -"

"Luce, mind helping me pack the chains?" He held out a duffel bag. The duffel bag he always gave her, not Lucy, to pack the chains. To her credit, Lucy didn't seem much happier than her either, and she snatches the bag from him in a huff. As Lucy walks away, she wonders what it must be like to be loved by Anthony Lockwood. He stands up and starts to shift around his room, fiddling with odds and ends; but curiously, he hasn't asked her to leave.

"I can't - " Her words failed her, but she gritted her teeth and forced them out anyway, the hard edge in her voice giving way to a weak whisper. "I can't stand this. You can't keep freezing me out."

"I don't know what you're talking about. What I do know is that we have a job at 135 Manilla Street and if you don't feel up for it..."

She didn't finish his sentence. She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. She wasn't going to play into his emotionally manipulative hands like putty. Lucy awkwardly walked out of the room.

"...maybe you shouldn't come."

For the first time in nearly 18 hours, he finally looked at her, but nothing could have prepared her for the contempt he held.

"Don't be ridiculous." "Of course I'm coming."

"Actually, I was just discussing this with Lu-" A heavy boot chucked from the attic narrowly missed Lockwood's head. "I came to the decision, after talking with Luce, that maybe it's best you don't come tonight. I don't want a repeat of yesterday."

"Well, I'm sorry you feel that way, because I'm coming. This is my job." Lockwood didn't seem to appreciate that in the same way she did. She was distantly aware of George calling out into the house, and Lockwood slammed the stack of books he was gathering onto his desk in response. Anger seemed to be the only emotion he could express after last night.

"Why can't you just listen for once? Why must you always be so...so difficult?"

"I'm not some possession for you to do with as you please! You yell at me, ignore me, scorn me, now lock me up just because you've decided you don't want to look at me?"

"Enough." There was a warning hidden in the tone of his voice as he started to close his door, but she wasn't done. Some fragmented fracture of Lockwood still cared about her, cared about his awful behaviour, and by God was she going to shake that out of him.

"What do I care? Keeping secrets behind locked doors is all you're good at anyway."

He froze just as the door was a fraction of an inch away from closing, a deadly quiet settling over the house. Even the rustling in the kitchen stopped.

“Look, I didn’t want to have to this.” Oh, he’s most definitely seeing red now. “But I am your employer, Miss L/N, and it is for me to decide which cases you do or do not go for.”

"So...this is just what we're going to do for the next...forever? I'll never go on a case again just because you have some weird problem with it? I'll just -" She let out a harsh bark of laughter, suddenly manic with panic. "I'll just leave then, shall I? Get out of your hair, for good?"

"I didn't say that."

“Don’t. Don’t. Don’t do this, Lockwood.” Her breath was coming in embarrassingly agitated now. Was the air thinning? Her head was spinning like she might pass out. She pushed against the door with ore force than she needed, meeting surprisingly little resistance. He was standing woodenly, eyes unseeing, and yet she felt that was the most honest he had been since the previous night. She looks at him, and for the first time, she wonders what he’s thinking about.

"Fine. Be like that, then." She wants to reach out, beg him to want her to stay, but instead she pulls herself away. She opens drawers and cabinets and pours clothes and misery into her worn suitcase. Lucy stands hopelessly in the doorway and George is whispering something furious to Lockwood, who just watches her stonily. A part of her feels stupid, as stupid as the night before, like she had lost some race in taking this long to realise she was hoping, praying, waiting for nothing. As she leaves, George searches her face and pats her shoulder awkwardly. When she reaches the front door, a movement in the shadows makes her jump.

"He's just being an arse. You know that. Just wait a few days. Please.”

Lucy. Sweet Lucy. Sweet, well-meaning Lucy who was better than the lot of them. She was going to miss her the most. She told her as much, but Lucy didn’t seem amused.

“You don't have to leave." She pulled Lucy into a hug, keeping her bitterness barely at bay.

"Oh, Luce. What else can I do?"

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She lives in a cold, cramped flat at the edge of civilisation, away from anyone's eyes. Away from Lockwood's cold, dead eyes. Some days she reads the paper, and every time she tries to force herself to read it as Lockwood would. She stays in the bed for the first week, but her savings are only so little, and eventually she starts working again. Too frail to set out as an independent agent, she signs on part-time with Fittes. She doesn't bother to get to know her teammates. Kipps is unexpectedly kind to her in ways he would rather die than acknowledge. She doesn't stick around long enough to get checked up by their medics after cases.

She returns to her dimly lit cavern and clumsily bandages her cut alone with none of his attention to detail. She drags her palm weakly across her eyes and tries to remember her friends' faces. Did Lucy's bob end at her chin, or her clavicles? How big were the lenses of George's glasses? Lockwood is a mist that colours her new life. Turns out, life is a lot more depressing without George's propensity for intellectual name-calling and Lucy's aggressively positive spirit. Sometimes she catches herself taking her tea the way Lockwood does, and she wonders where Lockwood ends and where she begins.

She goes to sleep wishing she had never met him, and wakes up with a million things to tell him. She sees the occasional silhouette wandering the street as she draws her curtains and lets her heart pretend it's him. She fumbles with her love for him, not knowing where, or how, to put it down. Day in and day out, her yearning threatens to consume her entirely.

One night, after a case at a bridge over the Thames, she runs into George and Lucy, and it's the most alive she's ever felt since she left. They want to hear about her but she brushes it off immediately: she wants to hear everything and anything about 35 Portland Row and its inhabitants.

"He's bloody awful lately. He's too quiet, and he keeps staring out of windows like he's waiting for something, even at night. George had to knock him out with cough syrup to stop him from coming tonight; he's wasting away. Of course, George occasionally forces some food down his throat and wrestles him into his bed every once in a while, but..." Lucy worries her bottom lip and she feels her stomach sink. "I don't know how much longer this can last."

"I keep telling him to reach out to you -"

"Reach out to me? Do you know where I live?"

George exchanges a look with Lucy. "Well, not exactly, but it took Lockwood all but half a day to find out. Not that he'll tell us. Coherent speech is...it's becoming a bit of a struggle for him. Either way, I have no idea what's keeping him from apologising when he's clearly so cut up about it."

After they leave, she replays the conversation in her head while waiting to be dismissed, trying to extract as much meaning as she could from their words. She thinks about the dark apartment waiting for her. An empty flat. An empty life. Before she realises, she's neck deep in the Thames, a step away from walking off the sea bed. Freedom from this pain, from these shackles which bound her to earthly woes, was deliciously close. She closes her eyes and takes the final step, water rushing in to dull her hyperactive senses.

But the peace didn't last long. Suddenly, she felt hands hauling her out of her cool sanctuary, and desperate panting coupled with water splashing. The water in her lungs hurt and she felt like a sack of potatoes. After much painful gagging and coughing, she gathered her wits. Lucy was apprehensively leaning over her, and she could hear George agitatedly pacing and muttering behind them.

"I thought you looked weird. Your eyes were too bright."

"...dead man walking. I'm gonna kill him. I'm gonna rip his throat out..."

"Come home with us, Y/N. Just for tonight. Please."

She looks at Lucy, suddenly furious at her for interfering. What did she know? This wasn't some small tiff where she and Lockwood could just hug and make up. She was better off without them. She dodges Lucy's concern and outstretched hand, shakily rising to her feet.

"If it was as simple as coming home, believe me - I would have returned a long time ago."

"Y/N..."

"I don't need you looking after me! I'm fine alone. Just go home, Lucy." Shame was beginning to fester inside of her. "Just go home."

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Hell is beating at her windows when she wakes up. The rain comes down hard and fast in sheets, and for the first time, she feels grateful to have this roof, however old, over her head. She curls up at her window with a large cup of coffee, watching the heavens rage.

Suddenly, her head jerks towards the front door. She listens carefully for a moment, but only hears the wind howling through some hidden draft. And yet, her feet are walking her towards the door. She feels it in her bones the way she hasn't felt it since that fateful night months back. Something new is waiting for her.

She opens the door to a drenched man with his fist poised, ready to knock. It takes her a few blinks to reconcile the image of the man in front of her with the Lockwood she now only hazily remembered. They hadn't been exaggerating; he really did look awful. His skin was dull and stretched grotesquely over his bones, and his eyes look positively bruised. He was aggressively shivering in the rain, no umbrella in sight. She instinctively stepped back and he gratefully entered, rubbing his hands together for some warmth.

"Are you insane? What are you doing here?"

"I know what happened last night."

She subconsciously withdrew within herself. "George told you?"

"Lucy, actually. George and I haven't been on the best of terms lately, but, as of now, he's stopped speaking to me entirely."

"Ah." A small part of her flickered sympathetically. She remembered how much George meant to Lockwood, and vice versa, but the memory felt so unused, as if it were from a different life.

If he notices how dismal her flat is, he doesn't let on. In fact, he only seems interested in looking at her, drinking her in like a man starved. She allows it, but only for a while, and only because it's too big of a relief to have him standing here, larger than life, right in front of her. Starving, yes; sleep-deprived, yes; but very much alive.

"Come now, Y/N. Don't look at me like that."

"It's been a very long six months. I'll look at you however I want."

He sighs and shifts her chair closer to her and, as if inspired by some sudden bout of insanity, takes her hand, but doesn't seem to know exactly what to do with it.

"Lucy and George have been yelling at me to tell you the truth for ages now, but...I was too afraid. I was a coward. But after my earful from George last night...I realised you were just as scared as I was. Probably even more, all alone. And I'm trying to find it in me to be brave enough for the both of us." She listens cautiously, too burnt to fully believe.

He laces his fingers into her own, and brings it up to his face tenderly. "Remember how it used to be? Me and you, you and me. Just the two of us against the rest of the world." He fiddles with his pocket, and she hears a crinkling of brittle newspaper. It's their first picture in the papers. George, with significantly fewer wrinkles, is standing off to one side. Lockwood is trying and failing to look professional, which probably has to do with the way she's thrown her arms around his neck and is pressing a half-kiss to his cheekbone. She couldn't help it; she was just so proud of him. That's the photo to gets her to smile for the first time in months.

His own smile wobbles as he watches her, then slides off entirely, leaving behind an Anthony Lockwood that looks much older than his years.

"I don't know what I was thinking that day. I had a really bad string of nightmares that week where...where your lips would be blue and your pulse long gone by the time I reached. It was such a close shave, I can't help but think..." She wants to reach out and smooth the crease in his brow. "What if I were a second late?"

"But you weren't. Isn't that all that matters?"

A glimmer of a smile skimmed his face. "Yeah, well, Lucy told me as much."

"Smart girl."

"But I didn't listen. I tried - god, I tried - but I couldn't. I thought you would be safer without me. So when you started saying you'd leave, this awful seed was planted in my head, and I was angry, but also madly in love with you, and I didn't know how to say any of it."

A tear falls on their joined hands. "That evening really messed me up, Lockwood. It screwed with my head big time."

"I know." There was a rush in his voice that mirrored the same kind of rush that had flitted through her body for the past six months. "And I don't expect you to ever forgive me. I'll spend the rest of my life fixing the damage I've done. But...but...if somewhere down the road...you find it in your big heart to forgive me and my sins...I might just love you. No more secrets or locked doors; I'm done with them. Y/N L/N, I'm ready to love you wildly and freely."

First time she didn't absolutely hate him saying her last name.