#just in case that last one isn’t showing up lol

[oldiesstationlover11607]

🎶I want to saaaayyyy…hello🎶 (How I haven’t used that one yet is incredible).

The day I run out of various hello lyrics and jokes will truly be a sad day in Tumblr history. Anyways, hello! It’s me. 💛. OMG I absolutely loved what you wrote for my last request. Tyler is just something else this tour man. Idk what he is eating, but he is just no filter and I live for it. Honestly, that oneshot might be one of my favorites from you (and that’s saying something because all your works are bangers).

So, you said you were willing to write Spooky Jim so I am going to torture you with my ideas because I feel like Josh’s Blurryface persona isn’t explored enough and I just think he looks good in red eyeshadow 🤷🏼‍♀️. I was wondering if you could maybe do an angsty oneshot where the reader is exposed briefly to Spooky Jim, but Josh quickly takes back control. However, Josh is horrified by that side of him showing so he sort of shuts the reader out. Eventually, the reader manages to convince him that she isn’t going anywhere.

I’ll be honest, I’m very excited to see how you do Spooky Jim, even if it is only briefly. ☺️

Spooky Jim - Spooky!Josh x Reader

Relationship: Spooky Jim/Josh × Reader

Warnings: Swearing, choking, violence, crying - lots of angst

Word Count: 791 - thought this would be perfect for a short blurb type piece so whipped this up in he back of my class lol

A/N: Hope this is okay! Sorry it took so long!

The banging had been ongoing for hours, each hit and crash seeping through the walls that I thought were thicker than this. My head was throbbing and my brain felt like it was swelling within my skull. Josh and I had moved in together a few months ago and we’d been planning to build a soundproof studio so he could work on his music without it ringing throughout the house. But with tour coming up, he had to practice–there was no changing that. I always tried my hardest to be patient with the drumming and I definitely didn’t mind it behind Tyler’s voice and accompanied by a backing track but by itself it just felt like noise–constant noise that never ever stopped. I wasn’t against his music or him practicing–that wasn’t the case at all–but when it’s 10:30 pm and I’m trying to get a paper done, that’s a different story. I could feel every crash vibrate through the floor and into my body as I tried to focus and finish my research before the deadline. Closing my laptop and climbing out of our bed, I marched down to the basement as each step fell in time with the beats. The closer I got to the banging, the more I realized there was a backing track playing, a weak and gentle hum hidden beneath the drums. I leant against the staircase, waiting for him to finish the track which I’d recognised as ‘Heavydirtysoul.’ Something was off though, each hit of the kit seemed to get louder and harder as the song progressed, causing my ears to hurt. The banging continued, Tyler’s voice just peaking through the drums. Bang! Crash! Bang! Each hit caused a painful pinch in each of my ears until a loud snap rang through the room. Both red painted drumsticks in his hands snapped plainly in half, small splinters of wood flying across the kit. I gently placed my palm on Josh’s back, the gray shirt he was wearing slightly damp with sweat. He flinched violently, turning around and grabbing my wrist tightly. His fingers burned into my skin, the tips likely to cause a line of bruises. 

“What?” he spat, eyes completely bloodshot. 

“I was… uh… drums… headache?” I asked, completely in shock at the pain in my wrist. Josh stared at me blankly as if he was turning over thoughts in his head. 

“You want me to stop?” he smirked, standing up and throwing what was left of his drum sticks to the floor. I nodded slowly, desperately trying to figure out what was wrong. Very slowly he started to walk us up against the wall, my head slamming, causing a sharp wince to escape my mouth. “Do you think I have the time to care about your silly little headache Y/N? Do you think I’m not busy and need to practice Y/N?” he shouted. I could feel my heart thumping desperately in my chest, head rushing through possible ways to get out of his grip. He brought his other hand up to my throat, running his fingers across the rings of my trachea causing my eyes to widen in fear. He’d never tried to hurt me in the past. Josh was one of those people who would never hurt a fly, even when he was stressed out. My breath was shaky as tears poured from my eyes and I tried to pick my next words carefully. 

“Josh?” Almost immediately his expression changed from an intense stare into pure fear. 

“You need to leave,” he said, taking four large steps away from me. Something had changed when he heard his name, something important. 

“What?” I questioned, my voice raw. I could see two things out of the mirror in the back corner of the room. One: My neck had a large red mark in the shape of Josh’s right hand. Two: Josh’s hands were both shaking behind his back. 

“I said get the fuck out Y/N! Leave! Get out!” he screamed. With a heaving breath I ran up the stairs and out the front door, not a single thought in my head. There was nothing to think about, either I stayed down there with him and he could hurt me again or I could leave and be safe–and I wasn’t going to pick the first option. I ran and ran and ran until I found myself on the side of a busy road halfway to Tyler’s house. Car after car passed me as I stumbled in the direction of where I could remember his house being–that was the only place I could go. It was completely dark outside and the only lights were the occasional car and street lamp that I passed. As I reached into my back pocket for my phone I felt nothing–it was empty. Shit. Tyler’s house wasn’t too far from where I was and in a split second decision I decided to sprint there. I wasn’t going to be stuck out on the side of the road alone at 11:00pm. I ran and ran and ran until I found myself on Tyler’s front porch. The lights were on which I’d found odd given Jenna was on a trip with the girls and Tyler usually had the lights off when he was home alone. The night air was crisp, the cold air swallowing me whole as it circulated through my lungs. I stepped up to the door raising my fist to knock before the door opened, Tyler standing on the other side completely dressed and fully in black. 

“Hey,” he smiled, holding the door open for me. He clearly noticed the look of shock on my face as he reached for my hand and helped me inside. Every soft light in the house was turned on, the ambience calming and welcoming. 

“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t be here. I’ll go.” He tightened his grip on my hand slightly telling me to stay where I was. 

“He said you’d probably end up here,” he sighed, leading us to the upstairs studio with the large windows–I loved that room. 

“Wait, you talked to him?” I paused in the door frame, Tyler walking into the studio and turning on the neon lights. He nodded, sitting down right in front of the wall of windows. 

“Of course I did. He called me the second you left the house,” he explained. I slowly made my way across the room till I was sitting next to him, my knees pressed flat against my chest. 

“So he told you what he did?” I sighed, looking out across the property. 

“He told me what happened, yes. But it wasn’t him, I’m telling you that wasn’t him,” he looked down at me. 

“I’m pretty sure the man with his hand around my throat was Josh, Tyler,” I snapped. In a complete state of shock I surrendered, Tyler pulling me in as I wept messily into his shirt. My chest was heavy as tears fell and I took quick breaths. 

“Y/N… it’s more complicated than that,” he rubbed my back.

“He… he… Josh…I–” I sobbed, each word muffled into his chest.

“You need to rest. We’ll talk about this in the morning,” he declared, moving to get up but I shifted my weight so I stayed on the floor. 

“Tyler, I can’t–we–please,” I sighed and he nodded, sitting back down.

“Do you want me to tell you what really happened or do you want to wait for Josh?” He checked his phone as if anyone would be trying to reach him at this hour. 

“I’m not going near him again so just tell me,” I huffed, wiping the tears from my face. He nodded before starting.

“You know Blurryface and how I have control over him most of the time?” I stared blankly at him trying to figure out where he was going with this. “Josh has a blurryface too except he’s called Spooky Jim. From what it sounds like, you met him tonight.” This couldn’t be true. If this was true then he would’ve told me, we’ve been together for a year, he would’ve told me. 

“No,” I scoffed, “that’s not fair… he–he wouldn’t–no.”

“I told him to tell you sooner but clearly he didn’t,” he sighed. If it was true then I couldn’t blame Josh for any of it. I loved him more than anything and I was going to stay with him–be there for him–because he needed me. 

“You’re sure?” I ran a hand through my hair, my palms sticky with sweat. “Yep,” he nodded. I needed to call him. I needed to see him. Anything to tell him we were okay. Tyler noticed me looking around the room and pulled out his phone. “He’s not gonna want to talk to you for a while Y/N. I’m sure Jenna’s told you about the first time Blurryface came out that I ghosted her for three weeks. He’s going to need time,” he started. 

“At least let me send him a text. My phone is back at the house,” I begged. He nodded, passing me the phone. 

“Keep it short. I can stop by the house tomorrow to pick up anything you need,” he spoke, getting up and leaving the room. I pressed Josh’s contact photo, one that Tyler had taken from their most recent tour. The most recent messages about an upcoming photoshoot. I started to type up my message. 

‘Hey. It’s Y/N’ (deleted)

‘I’m at Tyler’s’ (deleted)

‘I miss you’ (deleted)

‘Josh?’ (deleted)

‘I’m safe. I love you and I’m always here for you. Call me when you’re okay. I love you - Y/N’ (sent)

//

Requests open!

[holdmehurtme]

Hey gang, just an update to let y’all know that from here on out, all my posts are going to be marked mature. Make sure you have your settings updated!

[riaki]

OKAY EVERYONE IS SAYING GOJO DOESN'T DESERVE A HAPPY ENDING YES

BuT what if we could make it a little ANGSTY instead?? 👀 He gets his happy ending. His. Happy ending. You? Well.. Old habits die hard. This is what you wanted after all no? So what if he breaks his promises? What if your smile begins to fade? What if

What you said about later on reader and freckles growing apart cause freckles seemed nice it'd be a shame for him to be an ass

But that it's silly cause the irony is what if that freckle boy.. was just like Gojo but in a different light.

Being as it wasn't him who hurt reader, it was easy to overlook the fact of how similar he was to the old Gojo she knew before it became a shit show

Maybe she realizes that

Maybe she starts thinking

Maybe she drifts apart

And maybe Gojo comforts her but he's the last person she wants to see

Because it's these stupid feelings for Gojo that led her to this hell

And Gojo goes again

And he reels her in

And once he has her

Only to see as her smile begins to fade

As all the effort he had put in when he didn't have her start going away once again

And he starts to fall into old habits becoming the same as he was before, but this time, with you at his hand

As he slowly takes away your smiles again.

But it's okay, he'll make it right. Just...later. and later. And later...

You hope.

sorry I'm not good with angst sorry for any cringe 🤣

this is!! such!!! a good!!!! take!!!!!! on hsbully!gojo!!!!!! tbh this ask speaks for itself lol n dw anon! i rlly love the way u brought it :3 this is highschoolbully!gojo part 592727465527 *suggestive!

yeah. freckles boy isn’t that great of a person. maybe he tried but it didn’t work out; u dunno why but u keep seeing gojo in him— hints of satoru in ur life. like that stinky cologne he thinks is kinda cool but rlly doesn’t smell too good on ur bfs drawer, or the way he takes his coffee. honestly, if u squint, it almost seems like freckle boy is tryna copy gojo in a way…? but u don’t like thinkin abt him so u don’t blink an eye.

fast forward u broke up with freckle boy because something or other; the point is, u really didn’t feel anything with him. there might’ve been a spark, but it was really only artificial and had no wind to fan the flames. and since u got together gojo’s been distant; his smile seems dimmer and there’s always this faraway; foggy look that makes the brilliant azure of his eyes seem cloudy gray. but then ur catching up with him again and at some random frat party you get drunk and ur sense is inhibited and— u end up kissing gojo… oops.

so then u kinda enter this fwb state with him. and.. he’s pretty cool, right? he’s kinda evrything u want in a guy— tall, pretty, cool, strong, handsome, charming— it’s a package deal. but there’s also this… rift, between the two of you. see, ever since gojo lost u the first time, he’s always been so scared of pushing u away. so u stay fwb because he doesn’t wanna lose u again in case he’s feelin more than you are. but his heart doesn’t skip a beat when he sleeps with other girls and his chest doesn’t tighten like it does with u when he gets mouthfuls of fruity gloss from kissing other girls. but he forces himself to keep this wall up between the two of u because he just can’t risk losing you a third time.

it sucks for u too, though! gojo’s just a bit too dense to see it. whether it’s in his own nature, or he’s faking it. it’s probably the latter, but that’d mean he’s not being genuine again, n you don’t wanna think about it. but you’re gettin comfy with him and so is he, and you really do whole heartedly believe he’s changed this time, and for good. and it’s true! he has. but not in the way you thought. apparently, he’s exchanged being an ass with an unreachable ego to a pinch more genuine, but still an ass. it’s proved when u get to his apartment one rainy day ready to spend the weekend w/ him for a study date, but there’s clothes on the floor. dresses n stockings and a frilly blouse that you definitely think (or hope) don’t belong to gojo. unfortunately, your suspicions are confirmed when you lay eyes on the tangle of people on his bedroom through the crack in the door— this time, it’s your turn to run in a hurry. turns out, he got comfortable with you— all in the wrong way, thinking it’d be okay to sleep around. except he gives chase— after pulling on a pair of pants, of course.

eventually he catches up to you; you hate those stupidly long legs. catches your wrist and forces you to face him. in front of a chick fil a, nonetheless. he gets an overwhelming sense of deja vu— but he’s forcibly snapped out of it when je realizes you’re crying. and damn, you look gorgeous, and he wishes it would rain because the sunlight falls around you like liquid gold, framing your pretty face and reflecting prisms of rainbow in your tears.

once again, he doesn’t get it. why are you crying? it’s not like you were really serious or labeled, right…? and the entire reason you’d stayed that way was to avoid somethin like this. but gojo slowly comes to the realization that he’s fucked up big time— he has been since day 1. really, he should’ve found somebody cheaper to chase— you stole his heart and his pride, making him awkwardly and stiffly apologize to you in front of a fast food restaurant on some random crossing next to a train station. it’s only tense because he doesn’t really know how to apologize— he doesn’t have much experience with it, and for that he blames his ego.

but even so, he’s not ready for those big, sappy love confessions yet. you always made him feel so weird— correction: you still do. so you walk away somewhere between fwb and strangers. it’s always one step forward and two steps back with gojo. but maybe, just maybe— he can slowly rebuild your trust with some patience, empathy, and a lot of genuine love that he’s yet to realize he’s been nursing in his heart for you since the first time he laid eyes on you.

paaaaaaart one

[miley1442111]

the joys of a workplace relationship- s.reid

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summary: a new addition to the team causes some very strange conversations to be had- and a very embarrassing moment for both spencer, and you.

pairing: spencer reid x fem! marine! reader

warnings: nothing lol

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

You and Spencer hadn’t been dating that long. It had been what? 2 years? About 2 years. You weren’t sure. You knew you hadn’t had your third anniversary yet, that’s for sure. Your relationship was good, you two loved each other, he complained about not seeing you because of deployments, you complained about not seeing him because of cases., but it always usually worked out. Somehow, you’d see each other. And now? You’d see each other everyday, without fail. 

You were joining the BAU. 

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

“We have a new agent coming in,” Aaron announced, and faces were a mix of puzzled, excited, or confused. 

“Are they a woman? We really need some more women on this team,” Penelope sighed. Elle and Jj nodded their heads agreeing as Derek laughed. 

“She is a woman and she’s from the Navy, but special ops-”

“So she’s dangerous,” Elle smirked. “I like her already.”

“Well, it seems I’ve found her,” Jason nodded his head to the window, where all of them crowded to see the new girl. Spencer didn’t bother, too busy thinking about the case, and the fact that he wouldn’t be home tonight even though you’d just come back from a deployment yesterday evening. 

“She’s pretty!” Penelope squealed. “Spencer come look, maybe we can set you up!”

“For the last time Pen, I have a girlfriend-”

“Yeah, one that you never let us meet or see because she’s ‘in the navy’ or ‘busy’,” Elle scoffed, a small chuckle leaving most of their mouths as Spencer rolled his eyes. 

“But she is busy! And in the navy,” he tried, but it was just digging him a deeper hole while the team laughed at him. He stood up and looked at the window and his heart stopped. There you were, go-bag (which Spencer recognised as one of your old navy bags) in hand and a black shirt that showed a lot of the tattoos on your left arm. Spencer felt his mouth water as he watched you walk around with one of the other agents from the floor as he gave you a tour. 

You were here. Standing in his office. 

Were you joining the BAU?

“She is pretty,” he smiled and Penelope hit him on the chest. 

“You have a girlfriend!” She gasped as she started backing Spencer practically into a wall as the team watched on and laughed “You cannot go around calling other women beautiful-” “No Penelope-” “That is just disgusting and gross-” “Penelope-” “Ugh you are such a man! It’s disgusting -”

“Hi,” you smiled, standing at the door. Penelope stopped and turned to you, a big smile on her face. “Hi, I’m Penelope! Nice to meet you,” she held out her hand to be shook and you took it. 

“I’m Y/n,” you explained. “Captain Y/n Y/l/n.”

Heads turned to Spencer, his girlfriend’s name was supposedly Y/n. His girlfriend was supposedly a captain, and became one in only 7 years. The youngest there had ever been. 

“Welcome to the team,” Elle smiled. “Elle Greenaway.”

“Derek Morgan,” Derek smiled, taking your hand to shake. 

“Obviously you’ve met me over the phone,” Aaron muttered.

“Jason Gideon,” Jason smiled, giving you a salute. 

“Jennifer Jareou, but everyone calls me Jj,” she smiled. 

“And that over there, is-”

“Doctor Spencer Reid, I’m well acquainted,” you smiled. 

Spencer was still standing in the corner of the room, a proud smile on his face as the team slowly connected the dots. 

“Wait so she’s real?” Derek practically squealed.

You chuckled as a thousand questions poured in about your relationship, but you just sat and listened to them as Spencer went bright red. 

“Please stop asking such invasive questions guys-” Spencer tried but he was drowned out in a sea of voices. 

“Settle down,” Aaron called. “We have a case. Obviously this isn’t your first profiling case, right Y/n?”

“No, it’s not my first,” you nodded. 

As the briefing went on, you felt Spencer’s hand creep onto your lap. You didn’t mind, you liked having him close, but he was getting a little… work inappropriate. You brushed his hand off and continued the briefing. 

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

“What was your callsign?” Jason asked out of the blue as you all walked onto the plane. 

“Sailfish, sir,” you said, your naval manners bled into your life everyday, including calling people of authority ‘ma’am’ and ‘sir’.

“That’s so cool, why?”

“I was the fastest flyer,” you shrugged, sitting beside Spencer. His arm immediately wrapped around you, and he pulled you into him, kissing the crown of your head as he read his book. 

You and Spencer had been together long enough that you both knew each other's love language. Spencer’s was physical touch whereas yours was quality time and words of affirmation. You didn’t like PDA at the beginning of your relationship, but you'd grown to not mind it when Spencer wanted to be close in public. 

“How was the trip back?” He whispered. You felt all eyes on the both of you and he mustn’t have noticed, or else he would’ve let go. 

“It was fine, Scratch and Patches were fucking fighting the entire way back,” you sighed. Two of your friends, callsigns Scratch and Patches, had just started dating and recent weeks and god were they annoying. 

“They finally go together then?” He asked, engrossed in his book. 

“Not for fucking long,” you mummbled. “How long is the flight?”

“We have about 5 hours, do you want to sleep?”

“Yeah, I might just nap for a while.”

“Alright, I love you, sleep well,”

“Love you too,” you yawned and quickly fell asleep. Soon, all of the team were crowding around you two, questions ready to ask, and Aaron ready to have an awkward conversation. 

“She’s really cool, how in god’s name did you pull her?” Derek asked as Spencer chuckled, running a hand through your hair as you slept. In your sleep, you had a habit of pulling away from Spencer, so Spencer usually kept an arm around you at all times. 

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “We just… got together I guess.”

“Spencer, I don’t mean to be the bearer of bad news but… the PDA stuff should probably be taken down,” Jj said, Aaron behind her with a look of pleading. 

“And there’s paperwork for you both to sign,” he added.

“What do you mean?” Spencer asked, confused. Why would he need to tone it down? 

“There’s rules and regulations against agents being together, Strauss would kill you both of you broke them,” Jj explained. 

“It’s not like I’m always touching her,” he rolled his eyes as the team stared on. 

“Well-” Derek started, but Elle hit him in the shoulder. 

“What?” Spencer asked. 

“You don’t exact;y keep your hands to yourself, is all I’m saying,” he said, then walked off with Elle, Jj, and Gideon behind him.

“Just… tone it down, please?” Aaron added, and Spencer nodded, much more to think about than before. Aaron walked off and back to his seat. 

“Well that was deeply embarrassing,” you whispered from your spot against his chest. 

“Yes, yes it was,” Spencer sighed. “I guess I’ll just… tone it down then.”

“At work,” you added. “But at home you can do whatever you want.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” he smiled. “I’m so glad you’re here,” he admitted. 

“I’m glad I’m here too.”

He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, then you pulled your body off of his and sat in your own seat to nap, thus the joys of workplace relationships began.

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criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, marvel, top gun, challengers, the bear, the hunger games, obx+)

[stuckinapril]

what red flags should i look for in a man?

I actually feel like I’m a good person to ask this question, not bc I’ve had a long healthy relationship or anything, but bc I’ve humored walking red flags way more than I should’ve lmao. Btw this list doesn’t go for just men. It can apply to man, woman, or any human being across the board. Ok so:

When someone tells you they’re not ready for a relationship, BELIEVE THEM. Idc what the reason is. Idc if it’s bc they aren’t that into you or if they have shit going on. They just told u straight up. Appreciate that and just leave. Please. For me.

Piggybacking off that point—listen to people when they tell you who they are in general!!! This was a major 2023 lesson for me. People self-report all the time, whether it be friends or romantic interests. Most people are legitimately incapable of hiding who they really are. Pay attention. Do not ignore the signs, however small. I could’ve saved myself so much trouble if I didn’t just pretend Not to See.

Not consoling you when you need it because “they’re not good with emotions.” This is just an excuse for being lazy. They just don’t wanna put the work into being there for you properly—especially if you’ve already gone through the trouble of communicating this to them.

People who talk the talk but don’t walk the walk. Actions over words. Actions over words always.

Fuck overextended talking stages. If you wanna know more about me, let’s plan something in person. Otherwise you run the risk of getting attached to someone who’s possibly nothing like how they actually are in front of you.

If you’re having to “communicate” extensively with a person like a month in, as in there are lots of miscommunications and misunderstandings and things you don’t like about them or they don’t like about you, I’d probably just drop it. I learned this the hard way last year after burning through a lot of friendships where I found that we didn’t know each other that long at all, but there was already a plethora of problems to work through. This can apply to relationships just as well. If you’re asking a person to change this early in, or they’re asking you to change this early in, it’s probably just not a match.

Mostly talking about themselves. Not asking you anything about yourself in return. Ew.

It takes months to actually know a person’s true nature. That’s typically around the time people start showing their true colors. Ik a lot of people choose to commit like a month in, so just take that as u will.

Fucking competing with you. People who’re incapable of just being happy for other people without inserting themselves into it are insufferable. Immediate next.

This isn’t conscious behavior, and all of us are guilty of it, but people have an innate habit of taking advantage of your fantasies. If they know you’re desperate for their attention, they’ll get lazy (even if they don’t realize it). If they know they’re the object of your desire, they will leverage that to get your benefits without putting in the work. This is like playing cards and immediately showing someone your hand. Do not do that. This isn’t “playing hard to get”—it’s just guarding yourself until you’re sure you can trust the other person.

Not always the case, but a lot of times the way someone’s last relationship ended is pretty telling for how yours will go. ESPECIALLY if they’re not at all remorseful about how the last one went down, lol. You’re not the exception.

People are busy and taking a while to respond is O.K., but if it’s a continuous pattern of them taking forever to reply, it’s probably just a matter of priorities (and you’re not theirs). Sorry.

Pls take the ego out of the talking stage and recognize that love bombing is not flattering. I’ve reprogrammed my brain to where any time someone is doing way too much like three seconds in, I get the ick. I’ve legit dropped guys over this. It’s such a red flag to me. They either don’t have a life, or just are a natural love bomber (who will overwhelm you w compliments and attention only to fizzle out just as quickly), or they know exactly what they’re doing and they’re playing to your ego. Whichever it is, ick. Big ick.

The way they talk about other people is a major tell. This goes for friends and romantic interests. I think a bit of gossip will always be unavoidable, but if someone is liberally trash-talking other people—ESPECIALLY EX-FRIENDS OR EX-PARTNERS—you could literally be next. Anyone who thrives off badmouthing other people / hating on others / just generally not giving others grace doesn’t have exceptions. You’re their focus for now. It could just as easily be you tomorrow.

[laikabu]

re: my thoughts on laios’s sexuality (long post ahead lol)

let me start this post with this. first, this contains a lot of references to the new adventurer’s bible world guide book released last february. i can read japanese, but i’m sure they’re translated somewhere. general spoiler warning in case. also… i am ESL, so sorry for any grammar errors

second, if you’re on the team that insists laios doesn’t care about humans enough to form relationships, either read the manga again or at the very least read this thread.

last, please don’t chime in with your acearo headcanons on this post. there’s already a majority of posts here that insist laios is acearo and that anything else is impossible. i don’t like it the same way i don’t like when someone declares they hc marcille as bisexual to a poster who reads her as lesbian. i already have enough people here who declare he’s ace on my own art. at least people on twitter of all places don’t do this sort of thing to me. nothing in this manga is canon, you can headcanon anything i won’t get mad if you hc him as bi or something. just. don’t be weird on my post.

okay. trust me, i love women, and i love the idea of making my favs women lovers but the idea of laios being gay really appeals to me because of his background. this isn’t fueled by yaoi since i don’t even ship the only m/m relationship i bring up here, i just think it adds a nice layer to his disconnect with his own humanity

i do think laios has a very abstract relationship with his sexuality for a multitude of reasons. he grew up in a very conservative backwater village. he has a hard time recognizing his own feelings towards others just as much as vice versa. i don’t really care for the “laios is a monsterfucker” agenda people are pushing but i do think he’d engage in sexual thoughts in his own weird way, i won’t deny his deviantart fetish shit

as an autistic person myself, i relate to how he’d prioritize his special interest over social interactions. after all, he was fixated on monster food so he’s distracted from dark thoughts. he’s not an actual glutton

he’s shy around women, but i don’t think it’s out of attraction. i just think it’s because he’s awkward and doesn’t want to be seen as a threat. there’s a couple of times when, out of armor, he deliberately tries to make himself look smaller and nonthreatening.

he didn’t show any interest towards ashivia (the hubby hunter girl marcille replaced) and just humored her because she wouldn’t leave him alone. his other party members thought he was giving her special treatment so he had to tell her he “doesnt want to give her special treatment anymore”(even though he never did), so she left

ashivia did her best to butter herself up to laios and he didn’t care, but laios thought shuro was his bestest friend in the whole world because he was too much of a pushover to reject him. ironically… what ashivia did to him parallels what he was doing to shuro

also… yeah sorry i keep bringing up that one comic of laios saying if he were falin he’d marry shuro and then begging him to take him back to his country, or that comic of laios wondering why he doesn’t like him(and then the first two questions he asks the magic mirror was what if he or shuro were women). i don’t even ship them! but it’s not a reach to assume that he likes men because of this, even if it’s kinda played like a joke(after all,a lot of people like chilshi even though their ‘shippy’ interaction was played as a joke)

of course, given the setting, i don’t think knows he’s gay, he wouldn’t have the vocabulary to label himself. i do want to dance around with the idea of him forcibly confronting his own sexuality after years of yaad pressuring him to produce heirs lol. laios might not be cishet but he’s a king so he rdgaf about that right now. i’m open to him having female consorts for political reasons, but i don’t think he’s into women, is all.

before anyone brings up his succubus… god forbid an author makes hetbait. a part of the plot twist was that not-marcille wasn’t the only succubus enticing laios, his other party members were copied too. she was the only one who approached him. also… succubi aren’t always inherently romantic. once it realized marcille didn’t work, it switched to appeal to his desire to be a monster.

[angelicyoongie]

Abundance (XIX)

— summary: You never expected that you would end up adopting a hybrid, and if someone had told you that you would end up with seven? Well, you would have thought they were crazy. But here you are, with three different packs of hybrids that don't get along – but all want to stay with you. Yeah, it turns out crazy is an understatement.

— pairing: hybrid bts x human f!reader — genre: fluff, angst, smut — warnings/content: explicit sexual content! handjob (lol), mild sub!tae vibes — word count: 8.3k Part: I / II / III / IV / V / VI / VII / VIII / IX / X / XI / Find more chapters here!

Early access to chapter 20 and 21 can be found in the author’s note at the end!

You squirm, grumbling in your sleep, as a hot puff of air hits your throat. Twisting your head to the side does little to deter the ticklish sensation, something soft brushing along the slope of your neck.

The comfortable weight resting over your hips won’t allow you to flip over on your side to escape, but you’re too warm and cosy to bother opening your eyes to find out who’s keeping you trapped.

You’re being scented gently, almost timidly, and it slowly begins to lull you back to sleep.

The tender motion of someone nosing at your throat and nuzzling against your skin in the morning has become familiar to you by now, as it’s a certain bunny hybrid’s favourite way of waking you up.

The weight on your middle shifts, and you reach blindly for long soft ears as you mutter out a slurred, "-Jeongguk?" 

You get a short, petulant whine in response, a set of sharp canines nipping at your throat. 

"I’m not a bunny." 

The bite isn’t hard enough to break skin but it startles you all the same, any chance of falling back asleep washed away as you blearily open your eyes. You blink once, twice, as the halo of deep orange blocking your vision begins to shift into focus.

Taehyung’s messy hair is falling into his face from where he’s perched over your hips, his hands resting besides your shoulders, caging you in. He peers down at you with dark, unreadable eyes, fox ears flattened to his head. 

"Tae?" You murmur, drowsy and confused.

You stifle a yawn behind your hand, tiredly rubbing your eyes. It feels like you’ve awoken from a long coma, your body heavy with exhaustion.

The last week has been intense to say the least, all the work you missed by helping Seokjin and Jeongguk with their ruts practically being shoved down your throat the moment you stepped back inside your office. 

You’ve been pulling sixteen hour days for a week to catch up, only coming home to sleep and wash up before hurrying back to the firm. It’s been miserable and you’ve missed the boys terribly, but the hard work has thankfully paid off. All of your less important cases have been dealt with and now you have the entire weekend off to spend time with them. 

Taehyung's face twists at the sound of his name. His voice is meek, little more than a whimper, as he asks, "Are you disappointed that it’s me? If you’d rather have Jeongguk here, I can go get him."

The look Taehyung gives you makes your heart ache something fierce, the little distance between the two of you suddenly feeling much too far. 

"What? No, Taehyung, of course not!" You scramble to push yourself up on your elbows, shocked that he would ever think so.

You reach up to gently cup his face in your hand, smoothing your thumb across his cheek as you try to catch his gaze. Taehyung leans into your touch, a sad pout pulling on his lips as he noses against your wrist, breathing in your scent.

His eyes flicker up to meet yours before he looks away, his shoulders hunching with hesitation as he quietly asks, "Show me?"

It hits you then, just how inattentive you’ve been to the other boys after Seokjin and Jeongguk’s rut passed. You were intimate with one pack and then practically disappeared for a week. It’s no wonder Taehyung feels insecure, you haven’t been able to reassure him or his instincts that you want him just as much as the rest.

The realization feels like a punch to the gut.

You should’ve seeked him out sooner to make sure he was okay, to make sure he felt wanted, especially when the incident with Jeongguk and the weasel hybrids is still such a fresh wound.

"Oh, Tae," You let out a quiet breath, covering the guilt simmering under your skin with a tender smile. "I’ll show you as many times as you need me to."

You slowly guide his face towards your own, your fingers following the curve of his jaw until you have your thumb pressed against the mole on his lower lip.

Taehyung's ears do a curious twitch as you gently pull on the flesh, parting his mouth to make room for your own. His breath hitches as you lean in, a sweet little eager sound leaving his lips as you press a chaste peck against them. 

Taehyung’s eyes flutter closed as you kiss him again, his cheeks flushing pink as you murmur a soft handsome into his skin. The fox hybrid’s tail swishes happily back and forth behind his back as you pepper light kisses everywhere you can reach, from his jaw to the tip of his nose.

Taehyung chases after your mouth when you draw back, capturing it in another kiss. He immediately tries to deepen it, tongue brushing against your lips in hopes that you’ll let him in. You willingly part them, licking into his mouth as the fox hybrid melts against your body, his stomach vibrating with low content purrs. 

You curl one hand around Taehyung’s neck, cupping the back of his head as the other settles on his shoulder, pulling him closer.

Taehyung lets out a soft moan as you kiss him with a little more intent, more passion, too distracted by your lips to notice how your eyes flutter open. He doesn’t seem to mind that you awkwardly throw a leg over his back, the duvet impeding your full range of motion.

The wet smack of your lips disconnecting as you pull back makes the simmering heat in your belly flare up. Taehyung’s eyebrows furrow as he loses your touch, his rosy lips puckering subconsciously as he blindly seeks you out.

You can hear the telltale signs of a whine building in his throat but before he can get too upset, you tighten your hold around his body, using the leg you have over his hip as leverage to flip him over.

Taehyung stares up at you with big eyes as he finds himself pressed against the bed. His orange hair is splayed around him on your pillow, looking messy and wild after your wandering hands.

The pure surprise on his face makes you giggle.

You peck his cheek, pulling back just in time as your hands settle on his waist, fingertips lightly tickling his sides. Taehyung jerks forward, a burst of laughter leaving his mouth as his brain catches up with what your unrelenting hands are doing.

"Y/n, ah–!" He wheezes, squirming on the bed as he tries to escape from the light touches fluttering all over his torso. A mischievous grin settles on your mouth as you realize the leg around Taehyung’s waist is keeping him trapped, the fox hybrid having no other option but to endure your tickling.

Taehyung’s bright laughter fills your bedroom, the infectious sound making you join in as you watch him attempt to shimmy away from your wiggling fingers.

He squeaks as you find a particularly sensitive spot on his stomach, his tail whipping wildly against the bed. The array of snorts and cackles that Taehyung lets out is like music to your ears, the insecure and vulnerable look in his eye nowhere to be found as they scrunch up with laughter. 

There’s a new glow to the fox hybrid’s golden skin when he manages to capture one of your hands, trapping it against his chest. He flashes you a bright grin as you futilely try to yank it back, using the moment to catch his breath after your intense onslaught.

You pout, zeroing in on his exposed neck. As you shift your weight, ready to lean forward in hopes that tickling his neck will free your trapped fingers – Taehyung seems to read your mind. Something wild flickers in his gaze before he surges up, the sudden burst of energy throwing you off balance. In a flash, you find yourself back where you started, Taehyung once again hovering over you. 

Your attempts to wrestle him back down are useless, his limbs rooted in place even as you try with all of your might to flip him back over. Your struggling does little but get rid of the duvet, the thick blanket kicked aside as you squirm and huff under Taehyung’s body. His bare legs are flush against yours, warm, as the heat from his skin seeps into yours. 

"Tae," You whine, finally flopping down with an exhausted sigh as you realize you have no chance of overpowering him. 

"What?" Taehyung tilts his head, blinking down at you with faux innocence. His ears are standing straight with attention, twitching with every little sound you release. 

You give him an unimpressed look, eyeing how his tail lazily swishes behind his back in victory. 

Taehyung snickers, his expression melting into something a bit more smug – pleased, as he takes in your ruffled appearance. "You’re the one that wanted to play. It’s not my fault you’re a sore loser." 

You roll your eyes, suppressing the smile tugging at your lips.

"Well … You’re too strong! Frankly, it’s a little–" You raise your hips up in an attempt to flip him again, your brain stuttering as the movement causes you to bump against something hard, "–unfair?"  

Taehyung lets out a soft moan at the contact, eyelashes fluttering as he ducks his head. 

"Are you…?" You trail off. Your cheeks grow warm at Taehyung’s weak nod. 

"It’s my instincts," He admits in a low whine, arms flexing as he digs his fingers into the mattress. "I can’t help it. You were acting like prey, uh, squirming around like that. " 

You hum under your breath, taking a moment to collect your thoughts as you rub your hands up Taehyung’s arms, feeling his muscles strain under your touch.

You have to admit that Taehyung getting turned on by your little wrestling match is, well, hot. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with him being affected by his instincts but the fox hybrid seems to think otherwise, his ears pulled back in shame. 

You simply refuse to allow him to think so lowly of himself.

"Can I touch you?" You ask. You slowly drag your hands up from Taehyung's arms to his chest, resting your palm above the harsh thud of his heart.

"Do you really want to?" Taehyung’s dark eyes shine with uncertainty as they meet yours. 

"Yes."

You keep your gaze locked on his, making sure your intent is clear as you raise your hips just enough to brush against his hard cock.

Taehyung’s arms wobble at the contact. A low keen leaves his mouth as his hips jerk automatically, chasing your body for more friction. 

Your circle one arm around his back, pushing between his shoulder blades to bring him closer. Taehyung scrambles to comply, making room for himself between your legs as you pull him into another kiss. He moans as your hand trails from his chest to his stomach, the light scrape of your nails making him shiver. 

The short second you pause as you reach the waistband of Taehyung’s shorts has him breaking away from the kiss, panting against your mouth as he whines out a desperate please. 

You steal a peek at his face, just to make sure he’s still okay as your hand slides under the elastic and the sight that greets you almost knocks the breath out of your chest.

Taehyung looks wrecked. His skin is flushed, burning hot, eyes glossy with want as he rasps out another plea for you to do more. 

His mouth falls open as you lightly rub the head of his leaking cock, hips buckling as you reach down to grasp him properly. The cramped angle is a little awkward but Taehyung doesn’t seem to mind it, whines and moans filling the air between you as you pump his length.

The slide of your hand is loud, lewd, in the otherwise quiet room. You thumb at his leaking tip with every upstroke, collecting the steady dribbles of precome in your hand to make the glide easier.

Taehyung moves against your fist, whimpering, as your slick palm forms a hot and wet hole for him to thrust into. 

"S-so good, fuck," Taehyung growls as you tighten your hand, squeezing around his throbbing cock. He dives down to recapture your mouth, the kiss sloppy and hungry as he nibbles at your lips. 

You’re hot and flustered, dizzy almost, from having Taehyung so close. You can’t see his cock but you can feel it – how sensitive it is, how well it responds to every little thing you do. You swallow thickly at the steady stream of whimpers leaving Taehyung’s mouth, the fox hybrid following your lead so well it drives you a little crazy.  

When you stroke faster, Taehyung snaps his hips quicker. When you tighten your hold to massage the base of his cock, he slows down, whimpering but complying. He’s just so eager to please.

It makes your mind stray places it shouldn’t, heat pooling in your belly as you wonder just how obedient he can be for you. Lost in thought, your grip grows a little slack, and the steady pressure around Taehyung’s frantic thrusts disappears with it. 

The fox hybrid’s body stutters, a distressed chirp leaving his lips as he mouths over your cheek.

"Y-n, please, please–" 

"Sorry, Tae, I got you," You whisper.

You slide the hand on his shoulder to the nape of his neck, burying your fingers into the soft orange locks there. You tug lightly at his hair, increasing the speed and pressure around his cock.

Taehyung’s stomach tenses with every brush of your knuckles against his skin, his release so so close. 

Taehyung nudges your head back, biting into the delicate skin on your throat with more force than normal. He soothes it immediately with his tongue, the wet drag leaving a delicious sting behind. 

"You’re doing so well for me, Tae," You breathe, choking on a moan as he repeats the action with even more fervour. You can see his tail swishing madly behind his back, high keens filling the back of his throat with every stroke of your slicked fist.

Taehyung is trembling, his whole body taut as he strains to keep up with your hand.

You suck your bottom lip between your teeth, confused, as another flurry of choked pleads suddenly falls from his mouth. There’s nothing stopping him from coming, and yet he’s holding back – waiting – for something. 

Taking a leap of faith, you use the grip on his hair to angle his head up, bringing his ear close to your mouth. You press a sweet kiss to his earlobe, tightening your fist around his cock before you murmur out a quiet, "Good boy." 

Taehyung’s head snaps back with a gravelly, desperate moan as his body tips over the edge. His hips stutter as he grinds into your palm, shuddering as ropes of come spill from his cock. 

You relax your grip, gently stroking him through his release as another spurt drips past your fist, pooling on your stomach. The sensation makes your core throb.

You tamp down the urge to grind against the leg Taehyung has pressed against you, forcing your gaze to wander from his blissed out expression to the dull colour of your wall instead. This was about making Taehyung feel good, wanted – your own needs can wait. 

Taehyung’s head lolls back down as you release his cock, lightly trailing your fingertips along his shaft one last time before you let your hand fall away. His breaths are heavy, chest heaving as he tries to recover from his intense orgasm. 

You tuck Taehyung's face back into your neck, smoothing your fingers through his hair and scratching at the base of his ears as you wait for his breathing to slow down. He nuzzles into your skin, happy rumbles trickling from his chest as he noses against the marks he left there. 

"How do you feel?" You hum. 

"‘m feeling good," Taehyung mumbles against your throat, his bushy tail giving a few lazy flicks against your leg. 

Your smile quickly morphs into a grimace as you shift a little to your side, noticing how the wetness on your stomach has started to cool. You gently nudge at Taehyung’s waist, pressing a peck to the side of his head as you say, "Let me clean us up a little." 

Taehyung lets out a small whine in protest, but another nudge has him tipping sideways, rolling on to his side. You reach out for the tissues on your bedside table while Taehyung curls an arm over your chest, pulling himself flush against your body. 

Making quick work of the sticky substance on your skin, you turn to Taehyung, gently cleaning him up as best you can while he happily scents your shoulder. 

You bunch the tissues up, throwing them in what you hope was the thud of your trash bin.

Turning back to the fox hybrid plastered against your side, you bring a hand up to frame his face, kissing him softly. Taehyung melts pliantly into it, letting you keep the rhythm unhurried and tender as you both wind down. 

A few minutes pass of Taehyung being putty under your lips before he suddenly jerks back, eyes big as his ear twitches in the direction of your door. 

He listens to the footsteps coming up the stairs, a sheepish smile blooming on his red-bitten lips as he confesses, "I was supposed to come and wake you up for breakfast." 

You snort, shaking your head as Taehyung grabs your hands to haul you up. 

"You can blame it on me," You grin, smoothing out Taehyung’s sleepwear to the best of your abilities. You both really need to get cleaned up and changed before you see the rest of the boys for breakfast. 

Taehyung leans closer, his dark eyes sparkling with sincerity as he murmurs, "Thank you, Y/n." 

"Always," You smile.

Taehyung surges forward to plant a wet smack against your cheek, giggling at the startled sound you make as he scoots off the bed. He hurries to the door, throwing a bright grin your way and a rushed "hurry downstairs!" before the door clicks shut behind him. 

You throw a fond look at the closed door as you get out of bed, happy that you accomplished your goal. You know it'll take more to make sure Taehyung feels confident in your relationship, but you hope it’s a start on the path to make him feel secure and loved. 

Letting out a small sigh, you grab a change of clothes from your dresser. You have a lot to make up for, with both him and the rest of the guys.

You shuffle across the room, twisting the door open as you bend your neck, satisfying little pops cracking in your ears as you try to loosen up the tightness there. Your head is nearly touching your shoulder when you find yourself face to face with Yoongi, the cat hybrid tilting his own accordingly until he meets your eyes.

"What are you doing?" Yoongi raises his eyebrows, amused. 

You straighten your neck, rolling your shoulder back as you ignore the heat creeping up your cheeks.

"Stretching," You pout. 

"Why? Are you tense?" Yoongi steps closer, curling a slender hand behind your neck. He frowns as he gently digs his fingertips into your muscles, eyeing your expression as he skillfully massages the sore area.

You feel your eyes flutter as he reaches a particularly sore spot.

Maybe you strained your neck a little too much with Taehyung, but how could you not devour those pretty pink lips when they were right in front of you? 

"Ah," Yoongi muses, tilting your head, "I guess this is why." 

You suck in a breath as he presses his thumb against one of the fresh marks on your throat.

Yoongi lets out a displeased rumble as he studies the faint bruising blooming on your skin, tail flicking with annoyance behind his back. The grip around your neck tightens just a smidge, just enough to lock you in place as he leans in.

Yoongi regards you with narrowed eyes, pupils pulled into thin slits as he takes in your dishevelled appearance. It almost makes you feel like a scruffed kitten, like he caught you doing something naughty.

"I wanted to see what was taking the fox so long, but–" Yoongi’s nostrils flare as he sniffs around your neck, a low hiss sounding under his breath as he moves lower, a particularly potent smell lingering near your stomach.

"Mystery solved, I suppose." 

Yoongi’s lip curls as he draws back, ears falling flat against his head. He looks miffed at the discovery of what you and Taehyung were up to, but you can tell that’s not all there is to it. There’s a layer of hurt there too, a hint of sadness in the heavy breath he lets out. 

You twist a hand into the soft knit Yoongi’s wearing, tugging at it.

Yoongi’s tail swishes at the contact, his mouth forming a soft pout. The fingers on the back of your neck twitch, like he isn’t sure he should keep holding on to you or not.

"Talk to me?" You ask softly, dragging him a step closer.

Yoongi grumbles something under his breath, his posture slumping as he instinctively leans towards your warmth. 

"What?" You whisper.

Yoongi looks away, words a little jumbled as he mumbles, "I missed you." 

"Yoongi..." You breathe, reaching out to cradle his face.

You really didn’t expect to have your heart crushed twice in one morning.

You pull him into a gentle kiss, smiling against Yoongi’s lips as he holds you still, the steady grip on your neck not letting you move an inch. It’s slow and sweet, the way he parts your lips, slotting them perfectly against his own. 

You let your hand explore the strong curve of his jaw, the softness of his pale cheeks, everything you didn’t have time to map out the first time you kissed.

When you eventually have to lean back to breathe, you ghost your lips over Yoongi’s, hoping he can feel the sincerity in your words as you say, "I missed you too, I really did."

"I’m sorry I haven’t been around much this week. Work has been rough, but I shouldn’t have let that come in the way of us spending time together. I can’t promise I’ll be perfect right away, but I am going to try my best to balance everything a little better." 

"Y/n," Yoongi shakes his head with a small sigh, "You’re doing good." 

He presses a quick peck to your lips, levelling you with a look as your mouth purses in silent protest. 

"You’re working hard to house and feed us, and yeah, sure, it sucks that you can’t be at home as much as we’d like, but we understand. No one else has ever put as much effort as you are into making sure we’re happy and comfortable, so don’t worry too much about us, okay? Just, focus on yourself first. That’s all we ask." 

You melt into Yoongi’s embrace as he wraps his arms around you, muttering out a wobbly okay.

He holds you securely against his chest, tucking his nose into your hair to breathe in your calming scent. Yoongi never thought he would experience a scent that soothes him as much as Jimin’s, that smells like home – but yours do. The thought alone is enough to calm down the jittery edge that’s been clinging to his instincts for the past week, low purrs rumbling in his chest.

You rub your face into Yoongi’s sweater, discreetly trying to wipe away the tears prickling in your eyes. You will do better, you’re going to stand by your promise – but still, it’s comforting to hear that they don’t hate you for spending so much time away from home recently.

"You feeling okay?" Yoongi slowly releases his hold, stepping back to look you in the eye. 

"I’m fine," You murmur, clearing your throat of the thickness lingering there.

Yoongi hums, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. 

"Go get ready then, I’m sure the others are dying to see you." 

"Y/n, where should I put this?"

You glance up, squinting against the sun to make out Namjoon’s outline through the rays of light.

"Anywhere will do, Joon. Thanks for grabbing it for me," You nod in the direction of the other garden tools, brushing the dirt off your hands as you flash him a grateful smile. 

"My pleasure," Namjoon grins, tail swinging happily behind his back. 

You watch as he turns, blocking the light momentarily as he hefts the bag of soil more securely over his shoulder, biceps straining under the black t-shirt he’s wearing. Judging by how buff Namjoon looks, it seems that the workouts they’ve been trying to rope you into doing with them have been paying off, the sight of a particularly prominent vein in his arm causing your mouth to run dry. 

You swallow thickly as the wolf hybrid places the bag on the ground with a soft grunt, the flowers in front of you long forgotten.

"Be careful, Y/n-ie, otherwise you’ll catch flies." 

Blinking, you quickly avert your gaze from Namjoon’s bulging muscles, whipping around to stare at Hoseok. 

"W-what?" 

The dog hybrid gives you a knowing look from where he’s kneeling on the ground next to you. There’s a teasing smirk adorning his lips, his golden tail wagging with newfound interest.

"Shut up," You murmur, nudging his shoulder with your own. You fumble for the handheld shovel on the ground as Namjoon walks over, flustered that Hoseok caught you ogling his pack alpha. 

The wolf hybrid plops down on your other side, ears perked as Hoseok lets out a low snort.

"What’s up?" 

You pointedly do not look at the sculpted, tanned arm that reaches out for the hand rake in front of you, throwing Hoseok a narrowed gaze as he cheerfully says, "Nothing much. Y/n was just really enjoying the view." 

Namjoon makes a confused sound, the empty flower bed you’re sitting in front of not offering much besides the large bay windows looking into the living room. He tilts his head back, watching the sparse fluffy clouds drift by, the sun on his back wrapping around him like a warm hug.

"The sky does look pretty today," Namjoon agrees, oblivious to the death glare you’re giving his packmate.

"Sure does!" Hoseok chirps. 

His tail hits the grass with quick thuds, clearly enjoying the flustered state he’s put you in. Hoseok’s eyes sparkle with mischief as he continues, "Y/n, I’m sure Joonie would love to hear what–" 

"Wow, look at these pretty flowers!" You interrupt him, face growing warm under the smug smile you get in return. You busy yourself with dragging the cluster of nursery plants closer, avoiding Hoseok’s gaze as you push the small shovel to his chest.

"We should get them settled into their new home while the sun is still out, don’t you think?" 

The reminder seems to snap Namjoon out of his cloud watching, the wolf hybrid letting out a startled, "Oh, right!" as he turns back to the plants. He’s too busy trying to figure out how to use the garden rake to notice the fond looks you and Hoseok send his way.

You bite your lip, stifling a giggle, as you wonder how you ever could’ve thought of Namjoon as intimidating. It’s hard to picture the calculating gaze and imposing presence you felt at the shelter when the hybrid in front of you is just so – cute.

Namjoon is hunched over the bed, making himself small in front of the delicate flowers as he attempts to crumble the soil for them. A wrinkle appears between his brows as the tool only grazes over the surface, his grey ears twisting back in confusion when it doesn’t work.

Gently, you reach out to take Namjoon’s hand in yours, turning the rake over in his grip. The wolf hybrid perks up when he once again tries to drag it over the hard soil, the tines actually digging into the ground this time. Namjoon’s tail begins to wag as he rakes the soil, a soft look of wonder on his face as old, buried roots come to the surface. 

You know the boys haven’t had it easy in the past, but you really hope that the new experiences they make with you can lessen that hurt over time. You really haven’t met anyone – human or hybrid – who are as good as they are, and you’ll be damned if you don’t try your best to make them happy. And if gardening can do that for Namjoon, then you’re willing to convert your bedroom into a greenhouse if that’s what it takes. 

Your heart skips a beat as you take in the pure joy shining on Namjoon’s face as he fluffs up the soil, his fingertips stained with dirt. You can’t help but lean in, chest tight with love as you plant a kiss on his cheek. 

"Thank you for helping me," You smile, heart fluttering as he sends you a bright grin in return, dimples on full display. 

"Of course," Namjoon preens, chest puffing out as he digs into the soil with even more energy than before. 

A low whine has you glancing to your left, Hoseok giving you his best pout as he tilts his head, angling his cheek in your direction.

The intense scenting and kissing session you received before breakfast honestly left you in a bit of a drunken daze, your mind scrambled after trying to keep up with five needy hybrids. You know that’s why Hoseok refused to let up on his teasing before, it isn’t often he can do so without you returning the favour, but that doesn’t mean you’ll let him get away with it now that the spring air has started to clear your head. 

You send him a puzzled look, feigning ignorance as you mouth a confused 'what?'

Hoseok stares at you, dumbfounded by the sudden turn of events, as you turn back to the flowerbed with a small shrug.

You have to tamper down a smug smile of your own when Hoseok seems to catch up to what you’re doing, whiney grumbles being muttered under his breath as he realizes you’re ignoring him in retaliation for earlier. You’re not cruel, it’s not like you can deny them kisses for very long, you’re just, hm, saving it, as reward for when he finishes digging up his part of the bed.

You watch him begin to shovel out of the corner of your eye, tuning out his weak complaints as you focus on your own patch. Namjoon’s excitement is infectious and you honestly can’t wait to see how the garden is going to look once you’re done with it. The old owners didn’t care for it much, letting most of the plants rot and wilt away, but you don’t mind that too much. The new garden is going to be something you’ve created together with the boys, and it’s going to be so much more satisfying seeing the space blossom and thrive the more love you collectively pour into it. 

"This is such a mess," Hoseok sighs. He eyes the flowerbed distastefully as he flips over another spot of old dirt. 

"Hmm," You lean back, tapping your shovel against the soil as you pretend to think, "I wonder what made it so messy? Surely it couldn’t have been because of two grown hybrids stomping around in it, trying to spy–" 

"Tae!" Namjoon suddenly calls out, neck splotched pink with embarrassment. 

A few slow seconds pass with no reply, Taehyung nowhere to be seen. Just as you’re about to nudge Namjoon to tease him for trying to divert your attention, you hear the sound of pattering feet rushing over the grass, a series of high pitched barks calling out from the other side of the garden.

You watch, stunned, as a copper fox runs straight into Namjoon’s arms, squirming around in his lap until the wolf hybrid gently hugs it to his chest. It yips as if asking him to play, giving his jaw a few quick licks while it rubs his snout all over Namjoon’s neck.

"Not right now," The wolf hybrid shakes his head, amused, as he lovingly pets the thick, orange fur. 

The fox – Taehyung, your mind unhelpfully supplies a little late – gives a low snort, clearly unhappy that his alpha won’t indulge him right away.

His fox form is just as pretty as you remember. Taehyung has a long rich orange fur that fades into white near his stomach, his bushy tail sprinkled with black hairs that make the copper look even more vibrant. His pointed ears and small legs are dipped in black, his body agile and nimble as he somehow manages to slip out of Namjoon’s strong hold like it’s nothing. 

You hold your breath Taehyung as immediately scurries over to you, tail swishing as he flops down on the available patch of grass between your knees and the flower bed. He rolls to his back, looking more like a dog than a fox as he gives you a little wiggle, waiting to be pet. 

"Like this?" You ask, carefully burying your hand in the soft fur on his belly. Taehyung seems pleased as you begin to run your fingers through the silky hairs, low purrs vibrating in his stomach as you marvel at his pretty fur. 

"Look at our handsome boy," Hoseok coos. He reaches out to rub the narrow space between Taehyung’s fox ears, laughing as one of his hind-legs twitches in response. 

Taehyung looks blissed out from the attention, panting happily as you rub his stomach. You haven’t seen this side of the fox hybrid since the first time at the shelter, and it warms your heart that he finally feels comfortable enough to shift and let go even with the other packs around. 

You scratch Taehyung’s chin, grinning as you playfully say, "Do you know your hyungs are trying to use your cute little face as a distraction for ruining our flowerbed?"

Namjoon smiles sheepishly as the fox gives you a high, confirming yip in return. 

"It’s working, so I guess I can’t be too mad about it," You sigh, shaking your head in amused exasperation. 

You keep petting Taehyung for another minute until he seems to grow bored of it, his attention span a bit more fleeting in his shifted form. He rolls back over on his stomach, clambering up on his legs before he shakes his fur out. You’re not even sure if that’s something foxes do, or if he’s just picked it up from Hoseok and Namjoon over time. 

The fox walks a few laps back and forth, following the paved border along the bed as he sniffs at the freshly turned dirt. Hoseok notices the longing glances his packmate sends the disturbed soil, aware of his own instincts begging him to shift to dig around in it. 

He pats the ground to make Taehyung rush over to him, running a soothing hand over his spine as he gestures to the spot he abandoned his shovel. "There’s this root I can’t get up, it’s buried pretty deep, do you think you can get it for me?" 

You can practically see Taehyung’s entire body immediately honing in on the patch Hoseok pointed to, his tail swishing behind him in unbridled excitement. His ears are perked, focused, as he crouches low, belly to the ground.

His body tenses before he suddenly rushes forward, pouncing on the spot of dirt. He starts eagerly digging at the ground, scraping away the layers of soil surrounding the root in a few seconds. Taehyung has the entire thing uncovered in no time, his pointed snout shooting down to gnaw at what must’ve been roots from an old tree. His sharp teeth glint in the sun as he excitedly attacks the wood. A cracking sound fills the air as he chomps down on it, Taehyung's body going taut as he leans back, using his weight to pull it up. 

For a second the fox hybrid looks frozen, the root giving him more resistance than anticipated, but then it just gives – and Taehyung stumbles back, pulling out a root as thick as your arm from the dirt. 

"Well done, Tae," Namjoon beams, his chest rumbling with pride.

You cheer alongside his packmates, amazed that Taehyung managed to get rid of it that quickly. You shudder to think how many hours you would’ve been hacking away at it if you had to remove it yourself. 

Taehyung drops the root, yipping excitedly as he jumps around in the soil. He lets you all get in a few pets and a smooch between his furry ears as thanks before he shoots off, impatient to explore the rest of the garden. 

Smiling, you watch him scurry off, a streak of orange disappearing across the garden and into the thicker foliage near the back fence. Taehyung saved you all a lot of work, so now that the flowerbed is tended to and clear of anything that might impede the growth of the new plants, you can finally add in the fresh soil.

"Hobi?" The dog hybrid’s head whips around as you call his name, eyes hopeful.

"Can you help me with that bag of soil? I can’t lift it on my own."

You dust your hands, ready to rise up on your feet when Hoseok jumps up, gently pressing on your shoulder to make you stay seated on the ground.

"I’ll get it!" 

"Wait, it’s heavy–"  You turn around, warning tapering off as you watch the dog hybrid effortlessly heft the bag up in his arms.

Stunned, you watch as Hoseok carries it over without problem, no trace of a struggle visible on his face. He doesn’t make a sound as he picks up Namjoon’s rake, slashing the bag open before he spreads the soil as evenly as possible over the bed. 

Not even Namjoon, with his prominent muscles, looked this unbothered when he carried the bag for you earlier. You could tell he at least felt the weight of it on his shoulder, but it doesn’t seem like Hoseok registers it at all. You know that hybrids, regardless of their species, are genetically modified to be stronger than humans – but even so, the sight of Hoseok lifting a fifty litre bag of soil like it’s as light as a feather leaves you dumbstruck. There’s clearly a lot you still don’t know about the boys, and you have no clue how Hoseok has managed to hide that amount of strength away in his lithe build. 

"That’s, um, thank you," You stare up at Hoseok, a little lost, as he crumples up the empty plastic. 

"No problem!" He grins, ears perked as he resumes his spot. "Can I have a kiss now, too?" 

"Hmm, well, you did help, so …" You kiss the cheek that Hoseok keenly presents to you with a soft giggle, making sure to add another peck to the corner of his mouth in apology for teasing him earlier. 

Hoseok’s small dimples are carved into his cheeks when you pull back, the heart shaped smile turning your insides to mush.

He reaches out to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, subtly brushing his wrist against your neck as he pulls back, making sure his happy scent lingers on your skin. Hoseok knows all too well that you can’t smell it or find comfort in it like the others, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to stop trying. 

"Y/n, where does this go?" Namjoon holds up a budding flower, the faintest hints of purple showing through the closed petals. 

"Anywhere you think it’ll look nice," You smile. "I picked out plants and flowers that all thrive in the shade, so the placement shouldn't matter too much." 

Namjoon lights up at that, his grey tail beating up a storm behind his back as he launches into describing where he thinks each plant would look best. He must’ve been thinking deeply about it while he was turning over the old soil. Seeing how enthused he looks as he places them all out, you wonder if he would enjoy learning more about it - maybe it would be possible to sign him up for a flower arranging course in town? Or a few lessons online? You’re definitely going to mention a few options to him later. 

"That looks pretty, Joonie," Hoseok compliments as his pack alpha finishes his positioning, small clusters of colourful flowers divided up between a variety of green plants. 

You echo his sentiment, already picturing just how lush and beautiful the flowerbed is going to look once everything sprouts and grows. 

"Thank you," Namjoon’s shy gratitude is filled to the brim with pride, the wolf hybrid beaming as he begins to dig the spot where the first flower will go. 

You hunker down in front of your own designated area, digging up the patches Namjoon marked for each new plant. There’s something tranquil about the fresh soil slipping through your fingers as you carefully pat down the dirt around the new flowers, a gentle calm settling over you as you listen to the welcoming tune of a faint birdsong in the distance.

You joke around with Namjoon and Hoseok as you plant the new flowers, happily listening to the boys retell what they’ve been up to for the past week. Namjoon in particular has taken to exploring the neighbourhood and the surrounding areas more, though you can’t quite figure out why he seems so bashful to admit it.

Before you can even think to ask, you’re interrupted by Taehyung running back over for more pets, the fox hybrid looking like he’s been rolling around in any available patches of dirt he’s come across. You can only watch, amused, as he’s gently scolded by Hoseok for getting so dirty, his whines only growing when Namjoon joins in too. 

"Hey!" Namjoon sputters as Taehyung sneezes him in the face, showing off his displeasure before he scampers off in the direction of the backdoor. 

Hoseok barks out a laugh at Taehyung’s cheeky retort and you have to cover your face as your snort, muffling the sound to the best of your abilities. You pretend you don’t see the narrowed look Namjoon gives you as he wipes his face, humming as you let your attention drift to the other boys hanging around the garden. 

Seokjin and Jeongguk are huddled near some bushes by the fence at the back, arguing loudly about what the correct type is. You just wanted to know if it would flower, but based on how long they’ve been slapping each other’s necks, you don’t think you’ll get a definite answer to that today.

You roll your eyes as Jeongguk wrestles Seokjin into a headlock, the bunny hybrid grinning victoriously as Seokjin lightly punches his stomach in retaliation.

Jeongguk’s smile falters as he glances up, meeting Jimin’s gaze from beneath the big tree in the middle of the garden. You watch as the hand Jimin was carding through his tail jerks, a small hiss carrying over the grass as he accidentally tugs on the delicate hairs.

Blushing, Jeongguk averts his eyes, loosening his hold on Seokjin in order to make the alpha jump back up, blocking Jimin from view as he squeaks about his packmate being a brat. 

This new thing between Jeongguk and Jimin is certainly interesting, to say the least. It doesn’t seem like the others have caught on to the strange tension that’s been growing between them ever since that night you found them huddled up on the couch together, limbs and tails intertwined. It has clearly left things between them awkward though, even if you’re not sure why. They seemed cosy enough when you stumbled across them and the friendships between the packs have been improving, but perhaps they need a bit more time to accept the sudden shift between them. 

Your gaze falls to Yoongi as he yawns, his dark eyes squinting disapprovingly up at the shade that has fallen over his resting spot. You were surprised when you first came outside to find the cat hybrid in his shifted form, a purring Yoongi wrapping himself between your legs for some pets before he eventually went off to take a nap somewhere hidden from view. He’s been steadily moving his way around the yard as you’ve been working, finding new spots to rest undisturbed.

Now though, you hold back a coo as the fluffy black cat slowly gets to his feet, stretching out his long body before he moves a little further into the garden, plopping down in the first patch of sunlight he finds. He curls into a little ball, delicately tucking his tail under his chin to bask in the pleasant spring warmth. 

You watch as one of Yoongi’s ears twitches, twisting towards the house, before you even manage to notice Taehyung yourself; the fox hybrid back in his human form as he quietly moves across the garden.

Taehyung approaches Yoongi’s resting figure carefully, eyes wide with wonder as he takes in his shifted form for the first time. He stops in front of Yoongi, orange tail swishing with interest behind his back as he slowly sinks to his knees.

You can barely make out one of Yoongi’s eyes cracking open to watch him, tail flicking with what you can only assume is annoyance at having his fifth nap interrupted.

Taehyung’s hands are folded in his lap, voice soft as he reverently says, "Hyung, your fur is so pretty." 

Yoongi watches Taehyung silently, pinning the younger hybrid under his gaze. He looks at him without blinking and you find yourself holding your breath, mirroring Taehyung subconsciously as the cat hybrid thinks - considers something. 

You’re not sure what you were expecting – for Yoongi to hiss maybe, definitely for him to just get up and leave – but he does, well, neither.

After a few tense seconds that feel horribly long, Yoongi simply just slides his eye shut, his tail stilling under his chin as he lets a gentle mrrp fill the silence between them.

"Are you sure?" Taehyung gasps, eyes lighting up as he reaches out, hand hovering over Yoongi’s back for a final confirmation. 

"Oh," You whisper, just as Hoseok sucks in a low breath behind your back. The scene in front of you has captured the attention of everyone in the garden, five pairs of curious eyes watching the unusual interaction unfold. 

Yoongi lets out another soft sound, something you can only describe as akin to a stuttered purr, to let Taehyung know it’s okay to touch him. To pet him. 

Taehyung looks enthralled as he lightly strokes Yoongi’s silky fur, fingertips barely even grazing the cat hybrid at the first few touches. He grows bolder when Yoongi repositions his head to get more comfortable, petting the alpha with a little more intent as he drags his fingers from the top of Yoongi’s head down to his lower back.

He just looks so happy, so content, as he continues to pet Yoongi to his heart’s desire. 

The sight truly makes you a little emotional. With how the boys acted when they got to the house, there was a point where something like this seemed more like a distant, unattainable dream than a possible future. Even though they eventually agreed to get along, there was never a promise of friendship, or closeness. There was never anything that alluded to this. 

You can hear Hoseok’s tail wagging at the sight, matching the grey blur of his pack alpha's in front of you. Seokjin and Jeongguk have calmed down too, the bunny hybrid resting his chin over Seokjin’s shoulder as he watches Taehyung and Yoongi with wide eyes.

They all seem pleased, at ease, to watch Taehyung take another step towards befriending Yoongi. Like it was just a matter of time before someone took the leap to start bonding between packs. 

Well, almost everyone. 

Jimin is silently seething beneath the tree, his dark eyes glued to Taehyung’s hand as it touches Yoongi over and over, and over again.

It's his expression that trips you up the most, the intensity there all too reminiscent of the look you saw him sporting earlier. You noticed it as they all rushed to greet you after you came down for breakfast – the way Jimin's face soured as he picked up traces of both Yoongi and Taehyung's scent on your body. He kept throwing odd looks their way, a permanent scowl on his face as he bit into his toast.

His displeasure was clear as day when Taehyung had reached for something across Yoongi's plate, their arms brushing together. The thing was though, Jimin wasn't watching Yoongi. During breakfast, he kept staring Taehyung down, lip curling whenever the fox hybrid touched someone.

You didn't recognize it then, but you do now. You can see it in the way Jimin’s tabby ears are pulled flat against his hair, strained hands clutching on to his fluffed up tail in what looks to be a painful manner. His eyes keep tracking Taehyung as he touches Yoongi, never wavering anywhere else.

It's jealousy, and it's practically rolling off him in waves.

The thing that confuses you the most however, is that while Jimin looks green with envy, you can't quite tell what's actually upsetting him more – the fact that Yoongi is allowing Taehyung to pet him, or that perhaps a tiny part of him wishes that he was the one getting touched by Taehyung.

a/n: Chapters 20 & 21 of "Abundance" are available on ko-fi! You can find them here: https://ko-fi.com/s/e95005a91d

so uhm ... hiii? i know it’s been a very long time since the last abundance update (18 months to be exact *cough*) but better late than never, right? it felt really weird returning to abundance after this long. even though i tried my best to recapture the old ‘feel’ of abundance, i still think i have some ways to go before i get fully used to writing this story again! i hope you guys can excuse any scenes that may feel a bit stilted or off while i get to know my characters again. but all of that aside – i’m so happy to be back. i really missed this story and my hybrid boys, and i missed you guys as well. 

how have you all been? did you enjoy the new chapter? please come talk to me in the comments (& remember to reblog, that helps me out a lot)!!

the next chapter will be posted in around three weeks time, but if you can’t wait then you can always read it early on my ko-fi! i would really appreciate the support!! 💖

see you all soon, stay safe! <3

[cieloclercs]

Eternal life

Oscar piastri x russian figure skater

the ice queen — oscar piastri

pairing. oscar piastri x russian figure skater!reader

face claim. alina zagitova

warnings. swearing, google translate russian (im sorry), look guys i know the winter olympics were last year but for the sake of this they’re this year ok ?? 🙏 i used pictures from oscar’s sprint podium in spa for singaore (which obviously isn’t accurate plz overlook it hehe)

author’s note. hello anon! i hope you enjoy this, sorry it took so long ❤️

requests are still open for my 1k event! send something in if you’d like <3

liked by oscarpiastri and 76,264 others

yourusername swipe for a fail 🥴

view all comments…

yourfriend1 pleased to announce i got said fail on video ☺️

yourusername if you ever show that to anyone i’ll smother you in your sleep.

yourfriend1 wow 😃

yourfriend2 i feel like one of those aesthetic skater pinterest girls in the second picture

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yourcoach очень продуктивная сессия! 👍 / very productive session !

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yourusername in that case yes !!! 😀

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yourusername 😉

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username oscar piastri, he’s a formula 1 driver for mclaren

username and he’s lurking in MY WIFE’S likes?? get tf out of here he drives cars in circles for a living 😭😭

username can you blame him tho y/n’s this total badass skating GODDESS and he’s just a silly little aussie like ofc he’s infatuated with her 😒😒😒

username guys all he did was like her post no need to create an entire backstory out of it 😭 they’re both highly successful sportspeople so they probably just mix in the same circles from time to time 🤷‍♀️

username boo you’re ruining my fun 🙄

username МОЯ ЛЕДЯНАЯ КОРОЛЕВА 🩵 / MY ICE QUEEN

username word on the street is oscar’s liking this girlie’s post 🤔🤔 now i just have to figure out who she is 😃

username girl u can’t be serious 😭

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username no?? should i know who she is?? 😭

username erm YES

username i simultaneously love and hate how this oscar dude has liked ONE y/n post and suddenly all the f1 fangirls have appeared 😭 go find a hobby plz i beg you x

username jokes on you, stalking potentially new f1 wags IS our hobby

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username as both an f1 and a skating fan, OSCAR GIRLIES I BEG YOU PLEASE DONT DRAG Y/N INTO THIS IK HOW CRAZY Y’ALL CAN GET

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username sweetie i’ve watched the f1 girlies single handedly DESTROY relationships do not underestimate them

username ^^ does anyone know if they’re being dramatic or not??

username long-time f1 fan here !! trust me, they’re not.

liked by yourusername and 23,815 others

oscarpiastri Ready to shine in Singapore 🇸🇬🤩

view all comments…

username LET’S GOOO OSCAR

username podium loading…

username i’ve got £50 riding on you getting a podium don’t let me down 💪💪

username so this is oscar piastri… 🤨

username uh oh the skater girls have arrived 😨

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username and you called US sad 😭

username how the fuck is this guy expecting to be able to pull a queen like y/n 😭😭

username seriously he looks so silly 🥴

username guys he only liked her post they probably don’t even know each other 🙄 stop making drama out of nothing jeez

username yikes someone sounds jealous…

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yourfriend1 literally what i said smh

username PHAHAHA WHAT

username girl 😭

username i hate to break it to you oscar, the y/n girls are never going to accept you x

username yeah sorry babe, you’re just not worthy of our ice queen 😘

username the way y/n’s literally a thousand leagues above him 😔😔 the pain of being a badass bitch 🥲

username BACK OFF FROM MY WIFE Y/N YOU DONT DESERVE HER

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username STOP PHAHAHHA WHY DO I SEE IT

username lmao if y/n and oscar ever do end up dating he’s not going to live this down 😭

landonorris oscarpiastri since when did you become enemy number 1 to the ice skating community

oscarpiastri 🤷‍♀️

username LANDO OH MY GOD 😭

username PHAHAHHAA HE KNOWS THEY BOTH KNOW

username poor oscar getting dragged by the most intense fandom on earth 😭

yourusername 🧡

oscarpiastri 😊👑

username WOAH WOAH WOAH

username THEYRE INTERACTING OMG EVERYONE STAY CALM

username EXCUSE ME THE CROWN EMOJI?? HES ACKNOWLEDGING THE QUEEN AS HE SHOULD

username no.

username this can’t be happening

username oscarpiastri LEAVE MY WIFE ALONE BITCH 🤺🤺

username y/n you’ve just made everything so much worse 😭

yourusername

replies:

oscarpiastri cute cap, where’d you get it?

↳ yourusername this weird australian guy gave it to me. idk i would have preferred a number 4 🤷‍♀️

↳ oscarpiastri you sure? i heard number 81’s the favourite for a podium this week 😏

↳ yourusername we’ll see 🙃

liked by yourusername and 50,367 others

oscarpiastri First ever F1 podium 🧡 Let’s keep them coming 😉

view all comments…

username YES OSCARRRRR

username my driver 🧡🫶

username LEGEND 🇦🇺🇦🇺🇦🇺

landonorris congrats mate! the extra motivation did you some good 😉

oscarpiastri it sure did :)

username excuse me? 🤨

username lando. what do u know.

username i bet this has something to do with y/n

username girl bffr 🙄

username LANDO I JUST WANNA TALK (tell me what u know rn.) 🔫🔫

mclaren Doing us proud 🥹🧡

*oscarpiastri liked this comment

username best rookie since hamilton button >>>

*liked by yourusername and 5,217 others

carlitosalcarazz Congratulations, amigo! 😁

oscarpiastri Thanks mate! 😊😊

username AUSSIE AUSSIE AUSSIE

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yourfriend1 ok maybeee he’s not that bad 🙄🙄

*yourusername liked this comment

username omg the y/f/n seal of approval ??? ITS HAPPENING

username calm down nothing’s happened yet 😭 as far as we know they’re not even friends lmao let alone dating

username girl did you even see y/n’s story she was literally in the mclaren garage repping oscar’s merch 😭😭

yourusername incredible 🧡

oscarpiastri Thank you for your support today 🧡 Hope you liked the cap 😊

username wait hold on a second OSCAR GAVE HER THAT CAP???

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username oscar’s such a simp oh my god she turns up to one race and he’s giving her his merch 😭😭 what a dork

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username i just can’t believe we’ve lost her to a guy who drives in circles for a living 🙄

username doesn’t y/n skate in circles? the shade works both ways honey 😚

liked by oscarpiastri and 90,712 others

yourusername thank you for having me mclaren 🥰 and congratulations to oscarpiastri on your first f1 podium !! i had a blast 🧡🧡

view all comments…

mclaren Glad to have you on board, champ 🧡 See you again soon 😉

*yourusername liked this comment

landonorris you do know oscar’s not the only mclaren driver right 😃

yourusername the only mclaren driver with a podium this week though 🙃

oscarpiastri Thank you Y/N 😊🧡

yourusername 🫶

comments on this post have been limited.

months later…

oscarpiastri

replies:

landonorris ice queen? 🤨

↳ oscarpiastri of course

↳ landonorris simp.

yourusername

replies:

oscarpiastri ouch ☹️

↳ yourusername just telling you what you need to hear, babe ☺️

liked by oscarpiastri and 112,678 others

yourusername олимпийский чемпион! после стольких лет упорной работы я не могу поверить, что эта мечта наконец-то осуществилась 🥹 я хочу поблагодарить многих людей, которые помогли мне достичь этого: моего тренера, моих товарищей по команде, мою семью. я бы не справилась без каждого из вас! 🤍

olympic champion! after all the years of hard work, i can’t believe this dream has finally come true 🥹 there are so many people i want to thank for helping me get to this point: my coach, my teammates, my family. i couldn’t have done this without any of you! 🤍

i also want to thank my boyfriend and number one supporter oscarpiastri for putting up with me these last few months of prep 😭 i don’t know what i would have done without you 🥹 love you baby ❤️

…

oscarpiastri congratulations, my love 🩷 i’m so proud of you 😘

yourusername 💗💗

comments on this post have been limited.

[tmntxthings]

YOU 🫵 *points directly at that mean y/n, you, and that anon that asked for ansgt against rottmnt Raph* how very dare you !!!!!!

(If you have time and if your asks are open (didn’t see any warnings that it was close)) can you PLEASE do something fluffy and that reader is ABSOLUTELY head of hells for raphie? I’m talking flowers, I’m talking spending hours on a claw machine to get a plushie he wants it, I’m talking admiring and tracing his features slowly with the most stupid and hopeless in love expression the turtles have ever seen, im talking speaking up for him against anyone that mistreats him, doing his fav dishes, preparing balanced meals, paintings, little love notes, lipstick marks, poems under moonlight, I want devotion!!!! I want that sweet Puppy love !!!!! EVERYTHING. 100% a simp and isn’t afraid to show it, until Raph returns their actions, then they get bashful/blushing up a storm lol

thank you and have a good day

∑一Wherever You Go・゜・。

author’s notes: ain’t no way I’m doing that whole list we’ll be here forever, BUT don’t worry I’ll make sure he feels the love nonetheless

warnings: fluff, tooth-rotting fluff, bordering on a crack fic that’s purely just to show a character love ^ twas asked of me, unedited

Song: Never Getting Rid of Me by Christopher Fitzgerald

—————————————————————————

It was no secret that you adored Raph. And it didn’t bother you one bit that everyone, big red turtle included, knew that you had heart eyes for him.

Your love language for him couldn’t be restricted to just one kind. You exhibited all kinds of love for him. You hoped it wasn’t overwhelming. It was hard to stop yourself once you had an idea though.

One time you saw a beautiful bouquet of red roses. Instantly you had them in your hand, and a receipt in the other. They reminded you of his bandana. So bright, eye-catching! And down to the lair you went, shooting off an incoming text to Raph to give him a last-minute notice.

Earlier occasions where you hadn’t sent a text left you waiting around at a manhole cover forever. If Raph was asleep it would be hard to rouse him with just a notification. He’d need a full on blare horn. Or worst case scenario the boys weren’t even at the lair! Thankfully, most of the time they were home. Raph buzzed back with a text saying he’d be right up to open the cover for you. Sewer covers were heavy!

When the round slab of stone was lifted you offered up the bouquet to the darkness below instantly. It was quiet for a moment, before Raph emerged, cheeks tinted a darker green. “For me?” He questioned, his tone held a quality as if it was unbelievable for him to receive flowers.

But you didn’t chide him for it. In fact you only smiled warmly and nodded your confirmation. “I thought of you the moment I saw them. What do you think? Aren’t they pretty?”

His hands finally went out, accepting your gift. Holding them gingerly and away from his plastron. He seemed to not want any of the petals to snag on his sharp edges. “Raph loves ‘em” he murmured, his eyes entranced by the blossoms now that he could get a closer look.

This moment right here was picture worthy! You wished you had Donnie’s ability to just record everything, that way you could screenshot this later. Maybe put it as your screensaver. Instead you just watched, hands clasped as you waited for Raph to come out of his stupor. Which he did, and started asking you about your favorite flowers and invited you down to the lair.

~

You don’t know how they got the arcade machines down there. But it sure as hell beat going to Chuck-E-Cheese! Nothing against the place but it costs so much and all the games down at the lair are rigged to play for free! Which was awesome because you had finally decided, you weren’t leaving the claw machine until you won Raph’s dream plushie.

The poor turtle had played this game constantly ever since they mysteriously got the machine. He was able to get two plushies but they weren’t the ones he really wanted. The ultimate prize was a brown teddy bear with a little red bow tie. He was absolutely adorable. And Raph’s obsession with winning his prize was even more endearing. So when Raph texted you a picture of his defeated expression against the glass of the claw machine, you had to take matters into your own hands.

Raphie 😍❤️😚🤗🥰 - [ <image> 🥺 it’s hopeless ]

Y/n - [ omw asap, don’t worry raphie i’ll get you teddy! ❤️💪 ]

Well, easier said than done is a term of phrase for a reason. You banged your head against the glass or you tried to at least. But Raph’s calloused palm was in front of the glass before your forehead could make contact. Still you drew back to bang it against his rough skin anyway. He knew your frustrations, the claw machine was merciless. You had been at the lair for well over two hours. The first thirty minutes in had been fine. You had chatted with Raph easily, confident that eventually you would get the hang of the mechanism.

But then an hour went by. And then another. Your concentration on the game had dried up the easy conversation between you and big red. The atmosphere was intense as if the two of you were in battle together. Currently you were both defeated. His other hand patted your back, knowing exactly how you felt. “It’s okay, maybe Teddy isn’t meant to join my pile of plushies.”

You took in a deep breath. Stopping your frustrated head thumps and turned to look Raph in the eyes. “You’re right, Teddy is meant to sleep right next to you! And I’m gonna make that happen!” You harrumphed as you turned back to the evil machine. It was your enemy. It was working against you. All you wanted to do was this one thing and make Raph happy! This time for sure, you thought to yourself as you hovered the claw over to where Teddy lay amongst the other plushies.

“Like a boss!!!” You yelled as you smacked the button that lowered the claw. Both of you watched anxiously as it dropped, its metal fingers enclosing around Teddy’s brown fur, and it started to rise. But you had been here before and didn’t dare to celebrate pre-maturely before the damn stuffed animal was in Raph’s arms. The grip the machine had on the animal was shaky at best. The claw swayed from side to side as it carried the plushie over to the drop box. You were sweating bullets and could smell Raph’s anxiety stink.

But before the claw reached its final destination, the plushie tumbled out of its hold. You turned to Raph who let out a breath he had been holding. You expected to see disappointment in his eyes but it was quite the opposite. He looked happy as his snaggle-tooth dug into his lower lip. “Nice try,” his eyes crinkled shut with his smile. “Wanna go play DDR?” You sighed, letting the claw machine have the win for now. Happy to see Raph’s eyes light up with a burning passion as he raced over to his favorite spot, the left side, for DDR. “Ready to face the master??” He goaded but it was pure excitement to play one of his favorites of all time. “So ready!” You laughed, hopping up on the dance pad to get absolutely demolished because you didn’t have any rhythm. But you played regardless because when Raph was having fun so were you.

And yes, later that night you did bribe Donnie with twenty bucks to replace that damned claw with one that would actually work. So next time you were able to win Teddy and present Raph with the ultimate present. It costed you another twenty to keep Donnie’s mouth shut about ever having any involvement so you could have all the credit and look like a hero in Raph’s starry eyes. He sent you pictures of him and the stuffed animal almost every night with his goodnight message.

Raphie 😍❤️😚🤗🥰 - [ <image> Teddy says goodnight! ]

Y/n - [ gnight teddy, and goodnight raph-a-la 🤗 sweet dreams ]

~

“What did you say?!” Your voice raised as you stepped into the lair’s common room. Shelldon had just so kindly lifted the manhole cover, since no one else from the group chat was responding! You thought it weird since usually someone was on their phone *cough* Donnie *cough* but sometimes they were busy! Which you understood. Until you had seen Shelldon’s worried pixelated expression as he urged you on down the sewer system to the abandoned subway station.

That was when you heard it. Heated arguing. It was hard to listen to especially when it was Leo and Raph. You knew how much all of them loved one another, a love that even harsh words couldn’t damage. But sometimes, things were said in the heat of the moment that weren’t meant to argue a point. They were said to hurt the other person. That’s where you drew the line. That’s where you felt the need to step in, even if you weren’t family.

“Leo, if you’d just try, even a little, at accepting the role as a leader. It’s not that bad-“

“If it’s not that bad then why don’t you just take it back huh?”

“You know why. Dad said you-“

“Dad said this! Dad says that! What are you his little pet? Since when do we do whatever Dad says?!”

“Leo, c’mon,”

“Raph if you don’t wanna be the leader anymore. Then fine. But don’t push it on to me.”

“I never said that, Dad thinks-“

“For someone who’s catchphrase is ‘boss’ you really like being someone’s little bit—“

And that’s when you stepped into the room. Eyes hardened as you marched in between the two turtles. “What did you just say?!” You dared Leo to repeat. But as he studied your stance and the way you got in front of Raph, as if protecting him from Leo, the blue turtle started to duck his head into his shell. Feeling remorseful for getting so heated. He made a ‘tsk’ noise before heading off to his room. Mumbling sorries as he passed by.

You turned to Raph to check the damage. It seemed like just the two of you now. You wondered if they had started fighting because Mikey and Donnie weren’t around. Raph was rubbing the side of his head, looking drained and it tugged on your heart strings to see him that way. You knew brothers argued, sure they even fought sometimes. But it was hard to see them go at it like this.

“I know you’re not okay, so I won’t ask. But just know Leo didn’t mean any of that. I know he didn’t.”

Raph gives you a weak smile in return. Like he doesn’t believe you. But doesn’t have the heart to say it aloud. So you go to him, grabbing his hands and pulling him towards the couch. He goes without resistance. Once seated, you turn to him and he turns to you. Your hands go up and you cup his face now that he is within your reach.

“He’s scared. Just like you are. I know it’s hard to tell right now when he’s saying anything but that. But you know Leo, he’ll spew just about any nonsense to not say how he truly feels.”

The words turn over in Raph’s head as he thinks. He sighs, softening in your hold as he nods. He looks a little better now. But you don’t let him go. You trace the contours of his face. Lovingly. Letting the tension in the room ebb out until the early argument has left both of your minds completely.

“It’ll be okay. I know it will.”

You murmur. Your hands finally letting go as Raph’s breathing deepens. He fell asleep to your touch. Leaned back into the couch as his snores start up. You scoot over until your head can rest on his arm, pulling up your phone to text Leo to get his ass over here. A portal silently opens up on the other side of you and as Leo sits next to you, you pull him closer with your arm.

“Dummy.”

You chide the blue turtle as tears fall down his green cheeks. He huffs at the insult but knows you mean well. When you leave the lair that night the two brothers are tangled together in a pile that will surely be four later on, alls forgiven.

~

Raph eats just about anything. His stomach knows no limits. So you could char the meat on accident and he’d still wolf it down like it was the best meal he ever had. While that was kind of him, you wanted to really impress his palate. So on the topic of food one late night text session, you asked of his favorites. To which a long list was sent over. So you had to ask him again.

Y/n - [ Okay, that’s really cool that you have so many. But which one is your favorite among the favorites? 👀 ]

Raphie 😍❤️😚🤗🥰 - [ that’s a hard one… uhmmmmm ]

With a lot of encouragement he managed to get the favorite list down to five choices. To which you just decided to hell with it, you’ll have a feast! It took a lot of preparation. And more time than you thought you’d ever spend in your kitchen. But five meals were cooked and prepared perfectly on your round table. Now, you wished you’d told Raph of your plan sooner and hoped to the moon above that he didn’t have plans tonight.

Y/n - [ >image< hungry? C: ]

Raphie 😍❤️😚🤗🥰 [ 😱 always! headin ur way ]

Raphie 😍❤️😚🤗🥰 [ hereeeeeeee open ur windowwwww ]

And yes somehow he fit. He was good at wiggling around. He cleared each and every plate once you had tapped out after trying to keep up with him. Food comas hit the both of you soon after as he got up and claimed he would do the dishes. He was so cute as he wobbled up sleepily from the kitchen chair. Arms full of plates and platters as well as cups for not only water but various sodas/juices had been served that you knew to be Raph’s favorites as well. When he had asked what the occasion was you didn’t have any in mind.

“I just wanted to!”

You chirped. Happy to feed him. Happy to have made his day. Now he was as careful as one giant turtle could be with your plates, but to his dismay the bottom one from the pile ended up breaking due to the clatter when he placed them in the sink. He wouldn’t know it until he was practically done with cleaning, feeling so good about himself for not breaking any of the— oh there it was. The last one. In pieces.

“Raph is so so sorry! You made a nice meal only for Raph to break your plate!”

No matter how much he wished he could fuse the remains back together, he’d need glue. And you apparently didn’t have any in your apartment. He sighed to which you hushed all his worries away.

“Raphie! It’s just one plate, I’ve got more! Plenty more as you can see!”

You, who had been drying the dishes he washed. Gestured with the damp towel towards the pile of neatly stacked plates that were all dry. The force of which you whipped the towel was more than you had intended and you both watched as that perfect stack fell over, onto the counter and off on to the floor.

“Well. I may need to go buy some more.”

You admitted sheepishly. Raph didn’t know whether to be upset for you or laugh at the ridiculousness of the whole situation.

“Yeah, let’s go get some now!”

After picking up and sweeping to make sure all the shattered pieces were in the trash. That’s exactly what the two of you did. It was little things that Raph did, like worry needlessly over you accidentally cutting yourself with one of the broken plate pieces. Or him getting shy at every compliment and gift you had to offer him. His humble nature. How he readily takes on responsibilities. His love for his family. His diligence when it comes to crime fighting and working out. His carefree side. You loved it all. You told him all the things that enamored you to him. And the two of you were happiest, when you could just spend time together like this. Doing little things.

—————————————————————————

[sciencewife]

Some GLaDOS Thoughts

I’m sure other people have written about this already, but I wish we got more time with GLaDOS after she’s reactivated in Portal 2, while she’s getting her bearings again and fixing up the facility as she has Chell test again. It’s majestic to see the facility slowly being repaired, the dust shaken off its many inner workings and moving parts, and just watching it become alive again, just like GLaDOS. The facility’s waking up with her because now she is the facility.

Maybe that was the case in Portal 1, too, but in a limited sense. GLaDOS was the facility (she says after Chell escapes that she can feel her there, etc), but kind of had one hand tied behind her back. She overcame the cores that the scientists attached to her to try and slow her down, but they were probably still blabbering nonsense and limiting her potential. Much of the facility, too, still appeared as if most of it was constructed by human hands. Which makes sense—Doug moved Chell up the list of test subjects so that she’d be tested and would face (and ultimately destroy) GLaDOS sooner, so even if she could, she didn’t have the time or ability to make the facility truly hers.

To me, the final battle with Chell in Portal 1 ultimately served as this big reset for GLaDOS. She was destroyed, the cores slowing her down were incinerated and the facility was left in ruins for who knows how long until she was reactivated—by the same dangerous mute lunatic who destroyed her in the first place. Naturally, GLaDOS is a little upset, at first. She had to endure a loop of getting destroyed over and over and over again for an unknown (but a VERY long) period of time. Not fun! And the first person she sees is the same woman who’s responsible for putting her through that.

And as she has Chell test while she fixes up the place, GLaDOS is sarcastic, and goes on about how you murdered her, etc, but at the same time she’s just. So happy that she can get back to what she was doing before. Setting up tests, doing science, gathering results… she gets to do what she loves again!!! Most importantly, she does it one on one with her favorite test subject forever and ever, isn’t that great? Now that she’s in charge again they have so much catching up to do <3. Whenever she’s being meanies, I see it as just her being cranky and again, what she had to go through wasn’t fun. Even with that she says she thinks that she and Chell can put their differences behind them!

And just listen to her. She’s soooooooo happy that she’s rebuilding her facility and making it her own, and Chell’s helping her test and do the science she loves. She gets to be in her element at last, no cores weighing her down, no scientists telling her what to do… she gets to be herself and make the facility in the way she sees fit. It’s perfection. It’s beautiful. It’s an extension of her and it is her, if that makes sense. Every panel, every component, its all her, all in sync… Aaaaaaaand then Wheatley shows up, and control of the place is handed over to him, and her hard work for the past couple in-game hours is undone. And towards the end she’s like “Ohhhhh no my facility 🥺 💔”. She’s so sad!! Her beautiful facility is a mess… I just wish we got to see have more time with her before all that. Doing tests and science with glabos with no orb interference, seeing her in her element building tests for the test subject she loves so much.

I do wonder how the game would’ve gone if Wheatley hadn’t interfered. An AU to consider perhaps…

Sorry if this post is kind of rambling (I was writing this at work and kept getting interrupted lol) if I need to clarify anything just send me an ask or something. I love talking about this kind of thing.

[typingcorgi]

can't quit you

rating: e (minors, please shoo. you will be blocked) word count: 4.1k+ pairing: joel miller x f!reader warnings: mention of age difference, tipsy sex, mutual pining, emotionally unavailable but totally fuckable joel, oral sex (f receiving), p in v, creampie, praise kink makes brain go brrr, taylor swift references if you squint, porn with plot, moody-ish joel, no use of y/n summary: joel miller isn't able to tell you what you mean to him, but he can show you. author's notes: this is probably the fic I'm most proud of (not that I've written very many) and if you read, i would absolutely love feedback, reblogs, or comments. tell me what you like! tell me what you hated (kindly pls lol). i am open to feedback and love praise can't you tell so enjoy reading your thoughts. now enjoy getting dicked down (respectfully) and thank you to @foli-vora for letting me pick your brain on some of the plot devices; truly appreciate it (:

Right now, you have two things on your mind: cheap whiskey and Joel Miller.

The former comes from the promise of your smuggler who’d agreed to deliver an unopened bottle of Rittenhouse in exchange for three or four cigarettes you’d hand-rolled that morning. Quality tobacco is a thing of the past, so you’re fine with offering up one lackluster product in exchange for another slightly less lackluster product. There’s a good chance the bottle will be half-empty by the time your visitor makes it to your meeting spot. No one is ever as good as their word anymore, and their word means virtually nothing.

You hold Joel Miller to his promises, though. He said he’d run out to barter for his own offering of supplies—he’s low on ammo for his shotgun, and he needs to find a good number of batteries for the two-way radios he’d stolen off a sleeper last night. He figures it might be a good insurance plan, a good backup just in case either of you split up in this next leg of the trip to Jackson. And while you don’t like the idea of him traveling alone—despite knowing he can very much take care of himself—you don’t fight him on it. He’s not wrong, and more significantly, if you try and argue with him, you’re probably going to be disappointed. 

You used to bicker more when you thought he hated you; when you were the annoying neighbor and not the escort out of Boston and downstate. You fought like cats and dogs when you lived next door to him in those mangy apartments, never liking the way you looked at each other—like both of you knew the other had an ulterior motive to force yourself out of the QZ, and you picked up on it, tapped into this common secret you hadn’t planned on sharing with anyone else. And while the proverbial walls with which Joel shields himself are crumbling at a painfully sluggish pace, it’s something. You’ll take something over nothing.

You’re hiding out in the basement of an abandoned convenience store on what was probably a main street in this New York suburb. There isn’t much by way of furniture; just a couple of rust-ridden folding chairs, a worn green couch, empty, dusty shelves, and a sink that probably hasn’t run clean water in fifteen years. Small privacy windows along the top of the walls offer little by way of natural light, and the angle of its golden rays tells you that it’s time to go. Your connect is waiting for you on the street’s southern corner. Or at least, that’s where you planned to meet right before sundown.

Joel’s left you with his smaller, quicker shot, a semi-automatic that he usually entrusts you with while you’re apart. He doesn’t say it, but you can sort of tell that he doesn’t like leaving you. And it’s probably not personal because yes, while Joel Miller is slowly coming out of the shell he’s lived in for the last twenty years, it’s not as though he’s developed some sort of overt attachment to you. In a life like this, attachment is almost as dangerous as the Infected. There’s no room for him—or for you—to seek anything beyond a sort of temporary comfort with one another.

Get him to Jackson. That’s it. And then you’re on your own again on your route back home.

You switch the safety on the rifle, then keep it tucked in the front pocket of your jeans while you head up the dilapidated stairs and push open the cellar doors. The sunset meets you right in your eyes and you squint, and then the same thought you have at almost every beautiful encounter sweeps through your mind. Am I seeing another sunset tomorrow?

With any measure of hope, yes.

You close the cellar doors behind you, careful to avoid stepping on any overgrown grass along the cracked sidewalk toward the street corner. You’ve been unusually fortunate to not run into any runners or clickers today, but that streak would come to a dreadful end if you’d stepped on any patch of cordyceps fungus hidden along the green. They’d come charging at you in an instant, and if their overbearing strength didn’t kill you first, the brain parasite would. Eventually.

A quick death sounds better. You can’t fathom slowly losing your mind as many have. You can’t fathom losing the memory of Joel.

Fuck. You’ve really got it bad for him, you’re fucking thinking about him when you should be on guard, when you should be looking out for—

“Girl,” a voice calls out from behind you. You don’t know this smuggler that well; it’s not as though he has a voice you’d recognize. Your shoulders jump and you try to downplay it as you turn around, rifle now held in your dominant hand.

“Yeah,” you say, unimpressed with his greeting. You notice the edges of a paper bag crumpled in his strong grip, and as you eye him, you take out a tin-wrapped package of cigarettes, holding them out for him to take. He accepts your barter and unwraps the foil, inspecting each product to ensure you’re not ripping him off.

“Yeah,” he echoes, then hands you the paper bag. It’s heavy, containing the glass bottle that he’d promised, but right away, you can tell its contents aren’t completely full. You don’t mention it. Some things aren’t worth the energy. And you’re fairly confident you’d start feeling it after a swig or two, considering your last drink feels like ages ago.

When you return to the cellar, you’re alone again. Concern and disappointment flood your veins as you realize Joel hasn’t returned. Fuck, now would have been a good time for those fucking walkie-talkies. Hey, Joel, you dead? No? Great, get back here in one piece.

You dig around your pack for something to eat, eventually settling on something that you think was a protein bar at one point in time, but now just tastes of slightly sweet dust. It’s unappetizing. It’s all this end-of-world can offer you, and while getting good and drunk on an empty stomach sounds like it would be a fan-fucking-tastic idea, you can’t afford to slow down tomorrow. You can’t afford the hangover.

It feels like hours have passed within the span of minutes, and you take a swig of Rittenhouse before you hear a clang at the cellar door. FEDRA wouldn’t wait for you to open up—they’d just bust the door open without hesitation. Joel. Maybe. It could be him, or it could be your smuggler coming back to collect, realizing now your flimsy cigarettes weren’t worth the trade.

Your shotgun is again in hand—someone told you long ago that alcohol and firearms aren’t a wise mix, but that was probably before they realized the world was eventually going to end—and after carefully walking up the wooden stairs, you push open the door, gun ready to fire.

“Jesus Christ,” Joel mutters, lowering your aim away from the space between his tired eyes. “You really are ready for anythin’, aren’t you, honey?”

He says it almost sarcastically, like he doesn’t mean it. Like he’s teasing you in an aloof sort of way that only makes total sense for the Joel Miller. And you know he doesn’t intend for your stomach to twist like it does when he says it—honey, fuck, you could just melt onto the cold cement floor—but it does.

“In times like these, you have to be,” you offer, leading you both down the stairs.

You sink into the couch, finally able to exhale that long-awaited sigh of relief as it hits you: Joel is back, and from what you can tell, he’s unharmed. He’s alive. You don’t give yourself much time to relish in the silent celebration of it, though. 

“How was it out there?” You ask. “Run into anything? Anyone?”

“Couple’a stalkers,” he replies, shrugging. “Shot ‘em before they could get close. Got the batteries for the radio, along with some other crap.”

Your smile is small but genuine. “That’s good. Anytime you don’t end up maimed or dead is a win in my book.”

He almost chuckles, and it makes your heart squeeze. “Yeah.”

—

The “other crap” Joel has brought back to you includes a used, but functional woolen blanket and a stash of beef jerky that’s likely way past its expiration date. “I don’t need you passin’ out from hunger,” he says as he hands one of the pieces to you. Your fingers brush and it feels fucking electric, but likely only to you, since you know Joel has shut himself off to any sort of emotional electricity long ago.

He sits next to you on the couch, and honestly, takes up a considerable amount of space. His legs are splayed open, his broad back resting on the cushion behind him, and the full extent of his intimidating size begins to sink into you. It’s not like you ever thought Joel Miller was small, but you’ve been with him long enough that sometimes you forget how he might appear to others: menacing. Threatening.

You’re passing off the whiskey bottle between you, taking swigs every couple of minutes to fill the silence that’s fallen between you. Your conversation started benign enough (if benign could be used to describe the next leg of your runaway route, now that FEDRA knows two of its civilians have escaped the Boston QZ), but then it’d taken a more personal turn. Suddenly you know a sliver more of Joel Miller’s past; you know he’d been separated from his brother since Outbreak Day. You learn he had a daughter.

“I’m sorry,” you say lamely. It doesn’t feel strong enough. I’m sorry is what you might have said had you accidentally closed the cellar door on Joel’s pinky finger. He doesn’t say anything back for a while. He just takes another swig of whiskey as he leans back into the couch, as though it fully catches the weight of his grief.

“Was a long time ago,” he says finally. “She would’a been close to your age by now. Maybe a little younger.”

You nod and immediately feel a little guilty. You’d somehow survived, against all odds, against losing your family—if not to the outbreak itself, to the violence it’d caused. Your family was collateral damage in a devastating blow. It could have been you instead of her—Joel would still have his daughter, and you’d be with your family in a place hopefully much better than this hell on earth.

“Still,” you try, still not feeling as though your words convey your true meaning. “I’m so sorry. Thank you for trusting me with that.”

Joel’s eyes flicker towards yours as if he’s only now realizing that’s what’s happening here: he’s trusting you. And whether it’s an effect of the whiskey, it’s something. Neither of you is full-on drunk, just loose enough to take the edge off, to put aside some of the overwhelming weight that comes with surviving the literal plague. It’s just enough to let some of the walls built between you begin to chip away, bit by bit.

You don’t leave him hanging out to dry, though. You can’t. Joel just exposed one of his deepest wounds, so the least you can do is mirror the gesture.

You tell him everything. You tell him about your life in New York, your escape out of before you’d barely begun to drive. You tell him about your family and the hit it took to your life to lose theirs. You tell him about your connection to the Fireflies (although you’re pretty sure he’d already picked up on that, considering your frequent interactions with Marlene and Kim). You tell him you’d needed a light to cling to in the everlasting darkness until you’d realized even the light was no good, even then, you’d come to accept the only risk worth taking was one that ensured your security and yours alone.

And now, as it happens, his, too.

He doesn’t say anything afterward. He doesn’t come out with a line like thank you for trusting me with that or anything gooey or empathetic. How you have the emotional space for such reactions is beyond even your understanding, so you understand why a complete stoic like Joel Miller just…sits there. Stoic, nodding his head a bit in an effort to communicate he hears you. He doesn’t say he’s sorry. Everyone is expected to live like this.

“You know,” you continue, the whiskey warming the blood swimming in your veins. “When you didn’t come back as quickly as I thought you would, I got worried.”

Joel exhales through his nose. “Yeah,” he replies. “What else is new.”

You turn your body to face him, legs crossed over one another as you adjust your seat. Your eyes widen with meaning. You’re like a kid with a secret to spill, a story to tell, and you’ll be damned if Joel Miller doesn’t hear it.

“I mean it,” you push. “I’d been thinking about you all damn day. You just come and go as you please, or at least, you think you do. You’ve only just started telling me where you plan on going, or how long you think it’ll take. And I stick by you despite it all. You know why?”

“Yeah, and why’s that?” Joel presses, but the sarcasm dripping from his voice signals that he doesn’t actually want to know. Wanting to know what you mean—and then actually knowing—translates to pain. And this sort of added pain, the one that comes from wanting too much, is just not something either of you can manage at a time like this.

Your pointer finger gestures between the two of you, and with a bolt of whiskey courage, you finally say what’s been plaguing your mind for months. “It’s you and me,” you admit. “That’s my whole world. I got nothing else worth saving or fighting for anymore. So when you leave, half of my world walks out on me. Half of my fucking reason for being here is just—”

He cuts you off, and you don’t fucking believe what’s happening. His kiss is harsh, biting, bordering on punishment for you to shut the fuck up and he knows yelling at you won’t work (when has it ever?) so he kisses you. He lunges for you, his broad palm and dirt-coated fingers covering your entire cheek, the pads of his fingers pressing slightly into the flesh of your face.

Stop.

He pulls back, and both of you are met with the heavy breathing of the other. Your eyes open, slow and dreamy. You wish you had something more articulate to say.

“What the fuck?”

He says nothing.

“No, really, Joel. What the fuck was that?”

He pulls back, observing you. The weight of his gaze is nearly paralyzing.

“Don’t make me say it,” he concedes. You lean back against the arm of the couch, waiting for something more satisfying.

“Had too much to drink,” he tells you, but you know for a damn fact that you’re the one that put most of that liquor away. You’d had a head start, after all, waiting for him to get back to you.

“Not buying it,” you argue, shaking your head. “Just admit to me that you feel something between us, too?” And there’s your index finger again, flicking between your two bodies, tracing a line over the invisible string that binds you to the other. “Admit to me that this isn’t just about getting to Jackson. That you need someone here with you, because you can’t carry the damn weight of the entire world on your shoulders anymore.”

He can’t tell you that. It’s as though the words simply don’t exist in the Joel Miller lexicon. Your gaze drops, casting downward at his thigh, though you’re not exactly looking at anything.

Finally, he says your name. It’s low and pleading. Stop.

He’s leaning into you again, and this time, you meet him halfway. It’s agonizing, the painfully short distance between your mouths before he kisses you again. He’s slow and hesitant this time, almost seeking permission for a kiss as biting as your first. Your tongue sweeps along the seam of his lips, and when he parts them, you kiss him like the world is ending.

You can’t fucking believe what’s happening. It’s as though you’ve manifested this moment within your dreams. On the nights you’ve fallen asleep alone, you’ve touched yourself thinking of this. You’ve played your own body like a harp, imagining every stroke and rub of your fingers belonged to him instead. Joel is kissing you, and you’re kissing him back. Joel’s hands are running up through your hair, and your hands are on his chest, bracing yourself for him to pull back when he inevitably realizes this is a bad fucking idea.

It doesn’t come. He pushes you down, a gentle press of his hand to guide your back along the couch. His lips move from yours toward your neck, his kiss a brand, declaring you as his for as long as he’ll have you.

For as long as you survive.

Your bodies dance between wanting to savor the moment and needing to feel the heat of the other. Joel’s fingers toy with the zipper of your jeans, eventually pulling them down your legs and discarding them toward the cement floor so he can better focus his energy on you. On pleasing you, of course, but maybe to also give into the desire he’s been repressing for so long.

“Joel,” you whisper. “Are you su—“

“Don’t,” he interrupts, and then his mouth is on your cunt.

It’s sudden and harsh, but fuck, your body needs this. Nothing about this man is subtle, and now you learn his sex isn’t either. His tongue traces patterns against your clit, eventually probing deeper to taste you from the inside. Maybe if you’d been a little more firm in your inhibitions, you’d tell him this was a bad idea. Maybe he wouldn’t be fucking you with his goddamn perfect mouth like this. But he is, and you’re here, beneath the twitching overhead light in this decayed basement until it flickers once, twice, and goes out.

You learn Joel is braver in the dark.

Your hands grip his hair while he eats you out. His fingers press so deeply against the flesh of your hips that you know it’ll bruise, but it’ll be a pleasant ache to remember a night like this. It’ll be proof that even for a moment, Joel Miller felt something for you, and he could show you even if he couldn’t tell you.

“Fuck, darlin’,” he mutters, pulling back to catch his breath. You crane your neck to glimpse at him. His lips and beard glimmer with evidence of your arousal, and he sighs into the flesh of your thigh. “Too—too old for this.”

“Fuck that.” You actually laugh at his unexpected comment. “Keep going.”

For a rare moment in your relationship, Joel listens to you. His head dips back between your legs, mouth returning to deliver your pleasure. He’s slower this time, but just as deliberate. His hands hold your legs apart to give his tongue the perfect space against your clit, and when you feel your body begin to crest in relief, you give a sharp inhale through your mouth.

“Joel, I’m—I’m going to—“

He doesn’t need to hear anymore. He drinks you in while you climax, your limbs tensing while stars explode behind your closed eyes.

You kiss him when you push yourself up, needing to taste your own lingering flavor—needing confirmation that all of this is real. Joel fucking Miller just ate you out in this dingy little basement, and you can’t be sure, but you think it’s because he might actually have developed some sort of feeling for you. Something beyond the need to run or hide or defend. And you reciprocate it, eagerly.

How inconvenient for you both.

He’s breathing heavily against your mouth, and you smile in the earnest afterglow.

“You’re really good at that,” you praise into your ear, and he offers something between a growl and a moan in response.

His jeans are dirty and stiff, but you’re just as impatient to pull them off his thick legs and experience him as he’s delighted in you—the weight of his body, the feel of his cock. You hold his length in your hands and immediately notice he’s fucking huge. You practically gasp at the realization, thankful that the dark room hides your growing blush.

You’re laying on your back, and Joel’s fingers slide against your entrance, priming you for his next move. He speaks again, and while you’d normally have a little internal celebration at any ounce of vulnerability he’d be willing to share with you, this time you immediately cut him off.

“You sure abou—“

“Never more about anything else,” you confess.

It’s all too damn much, the amount of immense sensation that comes from Joel teasing briefly with the head of his cock. He pushes into you, and it’s almost as if you can see the way his eyes roll back into his head. Your own body has to adjust to his size, and you bite your lower lip as you brace yourself through the sweet pain of his length filling you with all he has.

He groans against the warmth of your neck, eventually building up his slow thrusts to a rhythmic pace that causes your blood to dance.

“G—god damn it,” you choke out, your ankles hooked around each other along his spine.

In the darkness, you can make out the slight reflection of his tired eyes. His breathing turns ragged quickly and he hisses once or twice—whether out of pleasure or plain you can’t determine (especially because you’re certain you heard him grumble something about his damn knees while he slid out and pushed forward, but honestly, you’re so fucking spent that it’s hard to be sure).

“Feels good?” You ask, clenching your walls as he thrusts home. 

He groans. “Uh-huh.”

He pulls you to sit up on his lap, and it’s only then he realizes you’re both still too damn clothed. He hurries to pull your white t-shirt overhead, then pushes your bra straps off your shoulders before managing to unhook the thing with both hands. Hs teeth nip and lips suck at your nipple while he fucks you, while you softly bounce on his damn cock, and shit, you want this night to last for fucking ever. 

You’re fucking ecstatic. Your heart sings with the knowledge that you’ve managed to bring Joel pleasure, if only for tonight. Your body thrums like a guitar string plucked by his experienced fingers, and you pant against his lips, sweat forming along the hairline at your temples.

“I’m c—close,” you warn him. “I’m going to—”

“M—me too,” he stammers. “Let me feel you, honey. Just l–let go.”

And you do, you really fucking do. You feel his heat begin to spill inside you and it only intensifies the blinding orgasm Joel coaxes out of you. It reverberates within you, spanning from your fingertips down toward your toes, turning your spine to liquid.

He fucks into you slowly while you both come down, humming into your ear during the aftershocks.

“That’s it, darlin’. Did so fuckin’ good.”

The praise alone is nearly enough to send you over another edge. You suddenly want to bury your head into the crook of Joel’s neck, hiding any evidence of vulnerable relief along your expression. But Joel doesn’t let you. Instead, he holds your chin between his thumb and the crook of his index finger, and kisses you through it.

Joel falls asleep on the couch in his jeans and an old t-shirt. He lets you wear his flannel (though he tries telling you it’s dirty and bloodstained, but mostly everything you own is, so you don’t care).

He falls asleep with you resting behind him, trusting you to hold him while you keep each other safe. He kisses the inside of your wrist, lips lingering at your pulse point.

When you wake in the morning, he’s already gone. And your heart would completely sink had you not realized one of the two-way radios standing upright on the shelf across from you, low static playing through its speaker. There’s a little red light next to its antenna.

You feel as though you can breathe again.

Padding across the basement floor, you grab the radio with both hands, press the call button, and speak into the receiver.

“Joel?”

[starcrossedxwriter]

Built for Love Part 13 (MBJ x Famous Black OC)

A/N: you know the saying "it's gotta get worse before it gets better??" Well, that's true lol But enjoy the ride!

***

“You keep actin’ like it’s not a big deal! Like we can just wake up and get over it.” 

“I never said that!” Charlotte called over him, attempting to drown out his blatantly false words. as she angrily folded her arms. She flopped back into the soft cushions of Dr. Matthews’ couch, angrily folding her arms. “But I’m sick of him acting like I’m the problem for focusing on OUR future? Shaun is the past. We’re supposed to be planning a wedding? You proposed to me! Why is it wrong for me to focus on that and not the past??” 

“Well, I don’t know if that’s what Michael mea-” 

Michael did not even allow their therapist to finish her thought before he jumped back in, his anger rising.   

“I didn’t travel back in time and stumble into a bathroom to find him hurting you, Charlotte! It’s what? Almost the end of April so this happened six weeks ago?? He is very much our present and potentially part of the future. How can I just pretend that ain’t the case? He will be a threat to you until he’s in prison. And I’m not interested in being caught off guard again when he shows up for round two. And you know I’m right!” 

“I don’t know that actually!” 

“Sure. Lie to your family, Dr. Matthews, and yourself all you want but I see you, Charlotte. You haven’t moved on either. You’re just trying to ignore it so you don’t have to deal with it. So you don’t have to talk to me about it. Better to pretend this is somehow a normal everyday experience rather than just admit that it’s fucked up. You can say you’re fine all you want but I ain’t gotta pretend I believe it when I don’t.” 

“Oh right cause you’re the resident expert on being stalked and almost murdered? Remind me when that happened to you too??” she snapped sarcastically. “Exactly! So why do you think your opinion of my progress somehow matters more than the only person in this room with actual experience surviving this and him. You’ve got no idea what it’s like. I’ve been here. I’ve survived this and worse. So maybe I am actually fine because I know exactly what this feels like. You can’t hold it against me that I’m not a broken thing that needs you to swoop in and fix her!” 

“I don’t need to know what that’s like because I know you! And I’m not trying to fix you. Cause I don’t think acknowledging your pain means you’re broken. I do know that the last time you swore to me you were fine, he showed up at your rehearsal and then he bruised your ribs. And I knew, I fuckin’ knew, something was up before I left and I went anyway because you swore you were fine. Call me controlling o-or overprotective or annoying or whatever but at least you’ll be alive to be mad at me. Cause I sure as hell am not gonna make the same mistake ever again. You want me to chill out? Then start bein’ honest with me when shit isn’t fine and maybe I’ll start believing you when you say it is.”

“You act as if I just lie all the time?? In our entire relationship, I’ve kept one secret from you, made one more mistake! If you can’t forgive me for it, why are we even here??” 

“Maybe I could if it was just one mistake. I love you with my entire soul, fuck you’re my everything. But for whatever reason, your go-to is to keep shit like this from me. He showed up at your rehearsal and you said nothing. Had nightmares that were so bad, you got sick and you told me everything was just fine. He hit you and threatened you and you still lied to me when I asked you what was going on. Same thing with your arm the night of the premiere. Do you wanna tell Dr. Matthews how you got that brace on your wrist and how you tried to hide it from me or should I?” 

“This again!” Charlotte threw her free hand in the air as the one wrapped in a black brace stayed in her lap. “It’s a sprain and it was an accident. I didn’t tell you because of this - I knew you’d overreact and we’d be back where we were in March! And I was right. One accident and you acted like I was gonna fall apart. I wanted to celebrate, have fun and you overreacted and just wanted me to be sad all night. So much so that you couldn’t even see what I needed!” 

“Overreact?? Wow. How am I supposed to react to finding out I hurt you??” 

“YOU didn’t hurt me! I got hurt, there’s a difference. And the only person who was bothered was you. You know how many times I’ve been hurt? Concussions, bruised and broken ribs, carpet burns, regular burns, broken bones, cuts, hell, I bruised a kidney once. I’m a fuckin’ walking Grey’s Anatomy episode. I don’t need to send you a press statement everytime I’m hurt.”  

“You know that’s not what I want! But you could at least tell me so I can help. Otherwise, what use am I to you?” 

“Whoa whoa whoa!” Dr. Matthews interrupted the pair. “Enough. Both of you!” 

The couple had dissolved into a loud and biting vocal hurricane within five minutes of stepping into her Lower Manhattan office. Neither of them came ready for productive conversation but to unleash their frustrations onto a third party in hopes that she would convince the other that their side was the right one. 

“You just spent 10 minutes arguing and I doubt either of you even heard a single thing the other person said. Getting louder doesn’t ensure your point is heard, it just makes you loud. So let’s take a deep breath so we can actually have a conversation.” 

Charlotte took a few deep breaths before glancing at her fiance, guilt immediately surging as he jiggled his knee, a clear sign that he was upset. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her hand rubbing her forehead. “We d-don’t speak to each other like that. I’m just…” She glanced away from him as her voice trailed off. She did not know what she was but she knew nothing was as ok as she wanted it to be. As she wanted them to be. “Frustrated.” 

“I know…” he acknowledged, letting out his own deep breath to release some of his anger. “I’m sorry too.” 

“Ok good. I wondered when we’d finally get here. It took one session for me to see this argument brewing but I honestly thought you two would never get here. So amenable to other, willing to make surface-level changes that don’t address the root cause of your problems but unwilling to be vulnerable and say the hard things that would actually help you move forward. But like a lot of things, sometimes we have to take a couple steps back to reevaluate and move forward. So tell me what happened since our last session to get us here?” 

Dr. Matthews’ calming voice was a sharp juxtaposition to the red hot anger they both entered her office ready to unleash. She was not wrong, this argument was simmering since Charlotte got home from the hospital and had boiled over without warning. Charlotte had thought they were making small inroads to being back to normal but Dr. Matthews now challenged everything Charlotte believed about their progress. She was so frustrated at Michael for setting them back but maybe she had just put too much hope that their problems were an easy fix and wouldn’t require the thing she dreaded most: vulnerability. But the last 48 hours felt like God saying that neither of them could sustain that much longer. 

Charlotte sighed and glanced at Michael, his own shame wafting off of him.

“It really wasn’t a big deal. The other night…” 

“WRONG! He can’t be dead!” 

“Whatchu mean wrong?? We watched that nigga get stabbed eight times.”

“Yea we also saw dragons and zombies… you’re telling me that in a world of dragons and zombies, a nigga can’t come back to life?? What about Beric???” 

Michael laughed. “Doesn’t mean everybody can do it just cause he did?? And how would he even come back? The entire Night Watch against him, Red Woman’s nowhere to be found. That nigga cooked. Had a good run though,” he remarked as he pulled their dinner out of the oven. 

It was Charlotte’s night off from the show and the couple’s chosen date night. Their therapist had recommended setting aside the time each week to reconnect and focus on them. And Charlotte felt as if it was working, they were slowly but surely becoming them again. Perfect? No. But even their playful fighting over mundane tv plots was a new development. Fuck… just being playful at all was a glorious return to who they once were. Their relationship simply existed day to day with such an overcast of tension, the overbearing weight of life and death, that there was little space or energy to feel anything light. But the excitement of the day had turned tonight’s mood celebratory and fun, exactly what Charlotte needed to feel like herself again. 

“Wow. You have nooo faith. That man’s comin’ back, I know it. Also if you were really killing off a character, is that how you’d write it?? The whole ‘is your favorite character dead?’ season finale cliffhanger almost always ends with the character being alive.” 

“We talking about Thrones, Els! The show that killed off the main character in season 1 and most shows ain’t doing that shit. So I still haven’t heard one real reason he can’t be dead dead aside from the fact that you gotta crush on him.”

Michael loved egging her on when she put on her nerd hat. Mainly because he loved seeing her come alive in this way, as if this part of her had always been suppressed in relationships and her light just glowed when she was able to be her. 

 Charlotte turned and glanced over her shoulder as she made guacamole to accompany their homemade enchiladas. She placed her utensils down before walking over to wear he perched against the counter, too invested in their conversation to multitask. 

“I mean even you have to admit that Jon’s brooding demeanor is sexy??” 

“I’ll never admit that!” 

Charlotte almost doubled over in laughter at the incredulous look on Michael’s face. 

“Reasonable crush or not,” she struggled to say as she reigned in her laughter. “I know I’m right. Mark my words, by the end of episode 1, Jon Snow’ll be alive and kicking. His character arc isn’t over yet.” 

“Wanna place a wager about that, honey bee?” 

Charlotte raised an eyebrow. “Sure… cause I know I’ll win,” she teased. 

“Loser has to give the winner massages, anytime requested, for a month.” 

“Two!” Charlotte interjected. She merely smirked. “What can I say? I’m feeling lucky today for some reason.”

“Oh for some reason? Could it be cause a certain actress, as of today, is now Tony-nominated Charlotte Bennett - soon to be Tony Award winning Charlotte Bennett-Jordan,” he amended with his perfect boyish grin that made her roll her eyes and giggle. 

“Maybe” she challenged with a modest look on her face. “Just… feeling inspired.”

 And the day had been inspired indeed as Charlotte woke up to the highly anticipated nominations announcement. Her first real shot at a lifelong dream, finally realized. When they said her name among the nominees for Lead Actress in a Musical, she felt the world stop on its axis. Everything she thought she had lost was hers again. 

Michael had been ecstatic for her, though not nearly as surprised by the news as she had been. If there was one person he would always bet on, it was his girl. And so they spent the entire day celebrating and Charlotte loved every moment of it. She had missed the version of Michael today brought out. Playful and silly, joking and laughing with her over mundane things, arguing with gusto about controversial storytelling opinions, going on tangents about his upcoming roles and his research. She missed his uninhibitedness, how he was unafraid to pull her into his arms, and be unrestrained. She just missed him. 

“Is that right?” he remarked as he reached for her, Charlotte playfully sliding out of his grasp so he could not catch her. 

Feeling emboldened by their return to some semblance of normalcy, she continued the game, giggling as she continued shifting out of his grasp as he reached for her. His eyes had a mischievous glint to them as he caught onto her game and soon they were in a full chase around the kitchen. 

Laughter filled the living room as they played their game of cat and mouse. By the time they were circling each other around the coffee table in the living room like opponents in the ring, Charlotte knew she was caught. She would have to concede and accept defeat, but she hoped that her capture would lead to a reignition of far more enjoyable games. 

She took off running by their couch, knowing Michael would grab her immediately and likely jokingly toss her onto it. However, as she rounded the corner, her foot caught onto the leg of their table, sending the clumsy actress hurling down to their carpet. She threw her arm out to break her fall, a searing pain shooting through her wrist as she landed on her stomach. 

She groaned as she lost her breath on the impact, immediately curling into a tight ball as the fall reignited a dull pain in her freshly healed ribs. She cradled her wrist against her chest as she tried to fill her lungs with air again.

“Fucking… idiot,” she forced out as breathing started to feel less like an Olympic task. 

“Shit! Baby, baby… Els. Talk to me, you ok??” 

She simply nodded as she used her good arm to lift herself up and turn around. 

“Yea, yea, I’m good. Just… annoyingly… clumsy,” she pushed out a chuckle as Michael helped her shift off the floor and onto the couch cushions. “As God… likes to remind me.”  

“Fuck. I’m so sorry, baby.” Charlotte was almost startled when she finally looked up at him, hovering above her. His eyes frantically searched her body for injury, his face blanched as if he had been startled by a ghost. His phone trembled in his hands as he rushed to unlock it. “Let me call your doctor… or… shit, your concussion just healed… Did you hit your head on anything?? We should get it checked anyway. Maybe I should just call an ambulance?? Gonna call an ambulance. Anywhere else hurt?? Your ribs? It didn’t get the same spot he… Probably wasn’t hard enough to bruise them but we should get it checked too… how’s you-” 

“Hey, hey, whoa. Slow down, baby,” she cradled the left side of his face, forcing him to slow down and go quiet for a moment. She could almost hear his heart hammering against his chest. “Take a deep breath, Bakari. I’m ok. Just a danger to myself and your expensive furniture,” she joked, hoping to calm him with humor, which didn’t work in the slightest. “Thank god I didn’t fall into the table. I know how much all this set you back. No need for doctors or ambulances. I promise. I’m good.” 

She bit down on her inner cheek to avoid the wince as one subtle movement let her know her wrist was, at best, sprained. She kept it limp by her side as Michael helped her to her feet. But the look on Michael’s face made her question whether sharing that now would only make things worse. So she said nothing at all. 

“I shouldn’t have chased after you like that. I should’ve moved faster when I saw you fall.” 

“We were having fun. We’re allowed, you know?” 

“Hurting you ain’t fun, Els. You’re hurt. Where?” 

“I hurt myself, you didn’t do anything. And I just hit the side of the table as I went down, I think. It hurts but will probably feel fine tomorrow. I’m ok, I swear.” 

“You sure?” She could see the disbelief in his eyes but she kept her face upbeat, ignoring the throbbing ache branching out from her wrist. 

“Yes,” she chuckled. “Now, can we go back to enchiladas and margs and debating the narrative choices of Game of Thrones? And celebrating the biggest day of my career? We still gotta pop that very expensive bottle of champagne Chris sent. Please? I’m really ok.” 

Her words convinced him to return to the kitchen where dinner waited. But they could not restore the carefree, celebratory aura they had 5 minutes ago. Instead, only that awful tension remained, leading to an uncomfortable silence that Charlotte could not break. 

Michael’s thoughts were no longer on their date night, but clearly preoccupied. Charlotte could almost see the wheels of guilt spiraling out in his brain. Her mildly funny dad jokes fell on deaf ears, her questions and prompts for conversation were met with silence or one word answers. Occasionally, she felt his eyes on her, studying her for signs of pain or discomfort. But thankfully, he found none and did not notice her first couple awkward bites using her nondominant left hand. 

She had every intention of telling him about her wrist once he calmed down but that moment never came. She tried to fight her way through the rest of the night, the couple even trying to catch up on a tv show together. But their usual vibrant commentary was silent as Charlotte stole worried glances at Michael and he did the same to her. 

She did not even understand how they got here. How he was this upset when the entire incident was her own fault. After all, what clumsy person thinks it’s smart to start a high-speed chase in their living room? She felt as if this was the best outcome she could have hoped for. 

“Michael… babe. You can’t just go silent on me,” she muttered grumpily, her frustration getting the better of her. “What’s wrong?” 

She had been doing as her therapist recommended, practicing understanding and grace as Michael navigated his emotions after everything. But as more time passed, she was simply too ready to move forward and growing frustrated with his lack of interest in doing so. He was stuck, firmly planted, and no amount of tugging on her part felt like it would get him out of it. 

The lack of intimacy in their relationship seeped into all aspects of their lives, including how they slept together. While they knew different rooms were simply too much distance for them, the furthest apart they could go were their separate corners of the bed. Charlotte tossed and turned most nights without her human weighted blanket draped over her. She understood the shift when her ribs were healing but he still held himself back from her, even after the all clear from her doctor. There were no playful touches or cuddling briefly before falling asleep, no more rolling away to cool off and Michael finding his way right back to her. They rolled to their corners after a chaste and subdued goodnight kiss before they both fell into restless sleep. 

But tonight, she supposed the distance worked in her favor, giving her space to gently elevate her wrist. She knew she would regret not icing it in the morning but somehow that seemed more inviting than opening that can of worms with Michael right before bed. 

“Just worried you aggravated your injuries or somethin’. You sure nothin’ else hurts? You can’t always tell right away?” 

She knew what she should have said. The truth. That she needed an ice pack and a doctor. But she didn’t. In that split second, she knew he would never let this go if he knew she was actually hurt. And she could not deal with that. It was just a sprain anyway, she reasoned. She had dealt with far worse. 

“I’m sure. Really. I didn’t fall off a ladder, I tripped. It’s fine. But if you’re gonna get stressed every time I fall, I’d rethink getting on this ride for life. You’ll be in for a hella stressful one.” Her tone was filled with amusement that finally did, minimally, tug at the corners of his lips. She leaned over and pressed another kiss to his cheek. “Accidents happen and I’m not made of glass. Now take a deep breath and get some rest. Love you.” 

She turned over and closed her eyes, hoping that her words would be enough. But somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew they would not be. 

But sleep was not something Michael would find tonight as he stared at the ceiling, wallowing in this stabbing guilt in his chest. He did not particularly want to be awake with his thoughts but he knew sleep was not a reprieve either. This monster, this fear chasing him and making him feel and behave in ways he knew were utterly irrational, haunted him every minute of every day. 

And all he knew was that he had to stay alert, stay ahead of it and protect his girl. Because the one time he wasn’t watching close enough, wasn’t listening or paying attention close enough, she got hurt. He would not let that happen ever again. 

***

Spring had officially settled into the New York City air but today, Charlotte was grateful for the lingering morning brisk that required long sleeves, praying it would hide the swelling on her wrist until she left for work. She grimaced and struggled to get her jacket on without moving her wrist much.  Some idiotic part of her had hoped it would magically feel better this morning. But that was dumb. So she was leaving a bit early to carve out time for an urgent care visit. But she knew Michael would never let it go if he found out. 

They had started to turn a new leaf and find their rhythm again. And Charlotte wanted to preserve that, not giving her fiance any more reasons to coddle her to death. Besides, Charlotte much preferred the old version of him to this one overprotective one. 

She turned it over in her head most of the night and decided that it didn’t serve them to make a fuss over something so small when it was clear Michael harbored some unfounded guilt. She’d get it fixed and pass it off as a rehearsal injury. No harm, no foul. 

Michael emerged from their bedroom with his work bag and shoes in tow as she finished putting on her coat.

“You ready?” He flopped down on the coach to put on his sneakers, Charlotte pausing with an eyebrow raised in confusion. 

“Where are you headed?” 

“With you.”

All good things must come to an end, she groaned to herself. She thought they had finally moved past him accompanying her to work every day like a guard dog. Some good things were simply too brief. 

“Michael… I thought we agreed you didn’t need to come with me anymore?” Her tone couldn’t hide her annoyance, and she didn't particularly care to. “I went to the theater by myself like a big girl all last week and was totally fine.”

“I’m not bothering anyone sittin’ in a theater watchin’ you practice, Charlotte.” 

“Yea no one except me,” she muttered just loud enough for him to hear. A wounded look crossed his eye for a moment that made her feel guilty. “Sorry, sorry. That was rude. I just thought… we were settling back into normal life again. I don’t need a babysitter when you pay for me to have a bodyguard anytime I leave this apartment. I’ll be fine.”   

“There’s nothing wrong with extra protection. You need it. At least till he’s in prison.” 

“I don’t actually. I can handle it.” 

“No, you can’t.” 

Charlotte paused, slowly turning in surprise as silent frustration morphed into roaring anger. “Excuse me? Who are you to decide that?” She paused. “Wait, wait, wait. Is this still about last night??”

“Nah.” 

“You sure? Cause you were fine before last night and now you’re back to being unnecessarily overprotective.”

“I don’t think it’s unnecessary.” 

“Why?? Cause I tripped over my own feet? I’m gonna get hurt, injure myself and you can’t freak out like this everytime. I’m a magnet for accidents who bruises like a fruit. I’m fine. You can’t keep acting like we’re still at DEFCON1. We’re not. Things are getting back to normal, can’t we just enjoy that? Please? For me?” 

He studied her for a moment before nodding softly, throwing his bag down on the couch. She closed the space between them and kissed him softly on his cheek. 

“Thank you. I am heading to the theater. I’ll call you when I get there. Love you.” Not thinking, she went to grab for her discarded bag with her injured arm before the pain forced her to awkwardly change course and use her other hand. She started to move toward the elevator when she heard his voice stop her. 

“Wait! There something wrong with your arm?” Michael’s voice reached her as she was pressing the elevator button to the lobby.  

“No, why?” She was so close. Literally steps away. How had she fucked this up? 

“Because I saw you strugglin’ to put your jacket on and you just avoided using that arm like you couldn’t. And now that I think about it, I haven’t seen you move it all morning.”

“Jesus… you get trained by the CIA at some point or something?” 

“Charlotte. I’m serious. What’s wrong with your arm?” 

“Nothing, Michael.” 

“You’re really gonna lie to my face right now? Ok… Move it.”

“Michael…” 

“Charlotte.”

She could always tell when Michael was serious, when he did not want to be trifled with. It was just rare that he had to direct that tone at her. But hearing it now, she felt resigned. She would have to tell him the truth and she could already tell.. 

This was going to fucking suck. 

“Ok fine. I tried to break my fall last night and my wrist hurts a bit. It’s nothing.”

“Fuck, Charlotte!” He closed the space between them quickly, only pausing when he noticed the almost unnoticeable jerk of her body away from him. He could tell she started to flinch but caught herself, not that that made it hurt any less. He held his hands out as he took the last couple of steps to her side. He gently reached for her arm, pushing her sleeves out of the way to find her wrist swollen and red. “It’s sprained or broken. Why didn’t you tell me last night?? I asked you hella times if you were hurt. I knew we should’ve gone to the hospital o-or called a doctor.” 

“That’s why I didn’t tell you!” She cried out in frustration as she watched the love of her life turn into this person she did not even recognize. “Because I knew you’d lose it. I knew you’d force me to spend the night in the ER regardless of what I wanted. I’m tired of you coddling me like I can’t make decisions, Michael!” 

“So cause you’re mad at me… you lied to me? Again??? After you promised you wouldn’t do that shit again.” 

Charlotte scoffed. “It’s hardly the same thing! This was literally nothing! A few weeks in a brace and I’m fine. So yes, I omitted a minor injury so you wouldn’t feel the need to take control! So you wouldn’t focus 100% of your attention on every stage of healing of my wrist or whether a fall triggered PTSD somehow. I have this under control and handled. I don’t need help. I. am. Fine. I don’t know why you aren’t listening to me when I say that.” 

“Maybe because had I listened to you the last time you said that, I would’ve come back from LA to plan your funeral!”

Charlotte’s comeback died in her throat as his words caught her off guard. She didn’t think about… that. It was a simple statement of fact. But she didn’t really dwell on it, how close she came to losing everything, how she only survived because someone else was there to save her. That she would have died as the woman he created - weak and broken - and not the person she believed she fashioned herself into. 

No, those were truths Charlotte had no interest in dealing with. So she forced her reaction to remain neutral, ignoring the ache in her chest that had nothing to do with physical pain. 

“So you’re just gonna hold that against me for the rest of our relationship? Just never believe me o-or take my word for anything ever again?”

“No but-” 

“Cause that’s what it’s starting to feel like.”

“It wouldn’t if you were just honest! I’m trying to help you.” 

Charlotte took a deep breath before turning to hit the button on the elevator door. 

“Ok… Honesty… Well, honestly, I’m getting a little tired of being called a liar when all I’m trying to do is help us. Honestly, I’m not sure how you expect me to be vulnerable when you aren’t listening to me. Honestly, I’m tired of convincing the man I love that I’m not gonna fall apart every second because he can’t stop treating me like I’m gonna fall apart every fucking second. Honestly, I’m tired of feeling like I’m the only person trying to move past this. And honestly, today, I don’t want your help. Because reminding me with every look and action that I’m a victim when all I want is to continue celebrating the biggest accomplishment of my career isn’t helping me. It’s just more of what everyone else in my life does. And honestly, I’m. Tired. Of. It.” 

She punched the elevator button hard, a soft chime letting her know it arrived almost instantaneously. Thank God. 

“So, want any more honesty for today or are we good?”  

“That’s not wha-” 

“I have an interview in 20 minutes and I can’t be late.” She cut him off, pressing the elevator button in rapid succession as if that would conjure it faster. “See you tonight.” 

And with that, Charlotte stormed out, leaving Michael alone with his frustrations and guilt. Charlotte was rarely angry at him but he could tell she was reaching a new height of frustration. But he did not know how to stop. Even standing there, equally as pissed off at her as she was with him, all he wanted to do was rush after her to go with her to work. He could be pissed and still protect her, right? 

He despised the fact that she claimed he was not hearing her. He was listening, far more intensely than she realized. Which is how he knew that all was not well for her, how he knew she needed the extra support even if she did not want to admit it. 

And then to find out that she kept something significant from him again. Had he not proven to her that he was going to be present? And protect her from every threat? Did she not consider him capable of fixing her problems, of helping her? That made him only want to prove himself more, prove he could protect her from anything that came her way. 

But he didn’t know how to get her to see that he was doing what he had to protect her, to not fail her again.  

“Wow. Ok… a lot to unpack there,” Dr. Matthews muttered. “Charlotte, did you mean what you said? About him not helping you?” 

“Well… kind of? At the moment, yes. He’s been helpful in a lot of ways, don’t get me wrong. And I love him for it. It’s just… I lied because… I mean shit, I just wanted one day. One day to not be a survivor or victim or be reminded that Shaun tried to ruin yet another thing in my present. In fact, I wanted to celebrate that even though he tried to ruin this for me, I still came out on top. But it’s like - and I don’t even think he’s doing it on purpose, which it’s been so hard to tell him - Michael can’t not remind me of it. It’s in every look, every touch, every decision. It’s like all he sees is the broken woman on that bathroom floor. And I don’t want to be made to feel like her when she’s dead and buried.”

“Michael, do you hear what Charlotte’s saying?” 

“Yea, and I understand it but… what else am I supposed to do?? What if he comes back? What if he attacks her again? I need to be there to protect her.” 

“He’s not gonna come back!”

“You don’t know that! Did you think he was gonna basically change his job so he could get closer to you? I’m not gonna underestimate that nigga… ever again.” 

“Oh and I did? I underestimated the man I slept next to for years? I’m the only one here who actually knows what he is capable of!” 

“Clearly you did if you thought you could take him on yourself.” 

“Right because I’m just a weakling who needs big strong men to swoop in and save her at every turn because I got hurt once?” 

“It wasn’t on-”  

“Okay okay, once again, deep breaths. Whew… the soul mates ones are always the most intense. Can’t even get a word in in my own office,” Tanya remarked. “Ok, you want to know what I hear? Two people who, despite their immense love and adoration for each other, aren’t actually ready to be vulnerable with each other. And without that, you’ll never understand the other person’s perspective because you’ll never have the full story and you’ll keep bumping heads.” 

“We know how to be vulnerable?” Charlotte argued back. “I mean even telling Michael what happened to me in the first place, sharing that was me being vulnerable.” 

“It was and that’s brave and admirable. I don’t doubt that you two have had moments where you offer vulnerability. But this situation you find yourselves in is unique and trauma, our fears, are often the hardest to share with others. I think you both are acting from a fear-based place and that’s understandable but you’ll never be able to move forward. Instead, you’ll just keep holding tight to behaviors you both know don’t serve you or your relationship.” 

“I’m not scared,” Charlotte remarked. “Maybe this would be easier if I was… at least then his behavior would be understandable.” 

“We all have fears, Charlotte. And I do think there’s a reason you opt for dismissing and lying about your own pain as if it’s insignificant. And it could just be an ingrained behavior but I think you need to ask yourself if there’s another reason you don’t trust the foundation of this relationship enough to be honest with Michael when things aren’t going well. And Michael, getting worked up to the point of distress over simple injuries, not being able to let your partner out of your sight… that’s not healthy or sustainable for either of you. And that’s more than general anxiety. And in our first session, you admitted that to us both. So ask yourself why you’ve reverted to something you know doesn’t work? Whatever the reasons are, I can help you both navigate all of it. But you’ve gotta be honest with yourselves and me about the reasons behind it. Until you’re ready to share with each other how that night changed you and your relationship, you’re just gonna keep having this argument until you break. And I don’t think either of you really want that?” 

The both of them shook their heads, her words were harsh but they both knew there was a ring of truth to them. 

“Okay good. So homework for this week is to do just that. Sit with yourselves, really sit with everything the other person said today and try to examine it. Not from a defensive posture like you’ve been doing but like you know the other person loves you and has your best interests at heart. And figure out the why behind your behavior. Keep asking why until you drill down to whatever is truly bothering you. Then… I don’t care when or how, whether you wait till our next session or do it while you’re alone, you’re gonna have to tell the other person your why. And to be honest… it’s gonna suck. But that’s the only way you’re gonna make it to the other side of this. Sound good?”

Charlotte glanced over to Michael who gave her a slight nod. He reached across the cushions and gave her hand a squeeze. 

“Sounds good.”  

***

Michael glanced over at Charlotte, her deep brown eyes set with sadness and far away from him as she changed out of her costume. He would have been more worried if that look had not been a staple in her eyes since their therapy session a few days prior. Whether it was the lingering silence and coldness between them or the reflection Dr. Matthews tasked them with, he did not know. But he knew one thing: he hated it. 

And as much as he knew it would suck, he was ready to do his part to end that. Whether or not he felt as if he was doing the right thing, his time reflecting made him realize that if Charlotte did not agree, he was doing the complete wrong thing. He didn’t have to sit with himself long to understand his why, understand what fears had him in a tight vise grip. As much as he dreaded saying it out loud, part of him dreaded an endless stream of sleepless, lonely nights even more. 

He missed his honeybee. His Els. He missed who they were before Shaun waltzed back into their lives. And he knew some of it was on him. He could not force Charlotte to trust him again, but he could be a better listener so he could show up however she needed when she asked… not when he decided she needed him.  

“Wanna grab dinner nearby tonight? Instead of heading home?” 

“Not really up for it. Been a long day.” 

He bowed his head, nodding slightly. “Neither am I,” he admitted. “But I think we gotta try.” 

He knew he was asking a lot of her after the days they had. They had whiplash going from the highest of highs to a low so low, it felt as if they couldn’t climb their way out. But he wouldn’t lose her and he wouldn’t allow him to break them. So they would try. 

And soon they found themselves in a near-deserted 24 hour diner next to the theater, Charlotte stopping in her tracks when he went to open the front door.

“You wanna eat here?” 

“Yea I know it doesn’t look like much andd I definitely saw a mediocre health rating when I was here earlier but well, I had a whole reason. We can go somewhere else though.” 

Charlotte shook her head. “No, no. It’s fine. It’s just… God is funny, I guess.” 

“What do you mean?” Michael asked as they situated themselves in a booth at the very back of the restaurant. Michael sat with his back to the door, not his preferred arrangement but he wanted to minimize the chance of a random stranger recognizing them. 

“I’ve been here before… when I left Shaun.” She pointed to a worn out booth on the other side. “Sat right in that booth over there with Jazz and it was the first time I admitted to anyone what was going on. We sat here for hours, drinking terrible cheap coffee and she saved my life. Just telling her, saying it out loud, gave me the confidence I needed to do what I had to. A week later, Shaun was at a bachelor’s party in Vegas and I was gone. Shocked it's still standing. How’d it catch your eye?” 

“Came in here yesterday during the show and… reflected. Over about 6 plates of greasy fries and cheap terrible coffee.”

“Oof, reflection. I guess that explains the six plates of fries huh?” she joked with a light teasing smile that made him chuckle. “Seems like that’s our needed reflection fuel” she remarked as the lone waitress came to take their order. Once she returned to the diner counter, Charlotte continued. “And what did you learn?” 

“My why.” 

“And are you ready to tell me?”

“Yes but then… if you’re ready, I need yours. Because I think you know yours already too?” 

“How’d you know?” He knew her far too well.  

“Cause you would’ve tossed and turned even more than usual the last few nights if you didn’t. That genius brain of yours would’ve never let you sleep.” He teased back at her, Charlotte laughing lightly. 

“I don’t know if I like how well you know me.” 

“I do… know you. And I see you, Els. So I know I’ve been overbearing and probably annoying, Charlotte. And I’m sorry for how that made you feel, like you weren’t being heard and I never want you to feel that way with me again. But you aren’t being honest with me or yourself and I can’t move on till you are.” 

“You’re right,” she admitted. “You’re… absolutely right. I haven’t been and I know why. I just… it’s not even admitting it to you. I didn’t want to admit it to myself, really. So let’s agree… no judgments, no anger, no arguing… Just our ridiculously painful reflections and ugly truths laid out in a rundown crappy diner. My future is with you and there’s no future here if we can’t talk about the hard shit. So… let’s talk” 

“Ok I’m in.” 

“Pickers of the terrible diner first,” she smiled half heartedly, turning the table over to him. Her hands wrapped around the warm mug the waitress dropped off moments earlier. 

Michael sighed, his eyes trained on the cast on her arm for a few moments. Charlotte’s eyes widened as she saw his eyes brim with tears. He glanced away from her, sniffling a bit to stop them from spilling over. She reached across the table and grasped his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. 

“Bakari… baby. It’s just me. Just the two of us. You’ve been so strong for me our entire relationship and I love you so much for it. But you also have to trust me to be vulnerable, trust that I can be strong for you too. Talk to me. No matter what you say, I’m not going anywhere.” 

Michael nodded, internally working up the courage before he just decided to jump. Head first into it. That was always their way anyway, just leaping into what felt right and safe. And they had yet to crash and burn. They wouldn’t this time either. 

“A couple days after everything, I had this… dream. We were back in LA, married, livin’ together at the house. We h-had kids. Two boys, I think. I mean you would’ve thought time just sped up or something, it was so real. Everything I want for us, you know?” 

“It sounds perfect. I’m guessing it didn’t end that way though?” 

The back of his hand brushed away an escaped tear. 

“Nah, it didn’t. I came home and you were there. And so was Shaun,” he paused, his hand squeezing hers a bit before he continued. “He had a gun and he just voiced every guilty feeling living in my head. How I prioritized a fuckin’ movie role over you, how I went to LA even though I knew something wasn’t right. How you almost died and I could’ve been too late. How you probably think I’m like him when you flinch away or get scared of me. And the worst part was you agreed with all of it. You screamed at me for failing you.” 

“Michael, you gotta know I-” 

“J-just let me get this out, Els.” He sniffled and took a deep breath before continuing, “I woke up as he pulled the trigger and I freaked out for a minute. I’d just never had a dream feel so real. I reached and still there, and you flinched away from me. And it… fuck, it killed me, Els. It felt like God affirming everything I thought, all the ways I’d failed you. You didn’t trust me anymore, didn’t see me as safe. And every time I hear you cry in the shower because you think I can’t hear you o-or diminish your pain as if I shouldn’t care or act as if you aren’t worth being taken care of and protected, it reminds me that I can’t fail you again. I can’t afford to fail you again. I know I’ve been overprotective but I just… I can’t stop looking over our shoulders for him. Terrified I’m going to miss the signs again and this time, I’ll lose you.” 

Charlotte’s heart broke a bit at his words. Why had she not considered this? She thought he put all of his guilt and blame to rest but to know he had been harboring it for so long, everything made so much more sense. And she felt like the world’s biggest idiot. 

“Hey. Look at me,” she demanded, not speaking until his expressive eyes were trained on hers. “There hasn’t been a single day since I met you that you’ve failed me. I d-don’t need you to try and prove you’re my safe place or that you can protect me. You just are that by existing, by loving me and showing up for me. And yea… it might take some more time for my body to catch up, but that isn’t on you. That’s on me for not dealing with it. And PTSD is just a fucking bitch,” she chuckled, causing the deep creases of his frown slack a bit. “But I don’t blame you, not then or now. I lied to you, Michael.” 

“But I should’ve-” 

“Should’ve what? Been a mind reader? Sacrificed a job on a hunch? That’s not a fair expectation for yourself, baby. Nor would I have ever wanted or expected you to miss out on the opportunity of a lifetime for me. I don’t need a savior, I just need you to be there as best you can. And even when I didn’t realize how much I needed you, you did and came back for me. How could I ever think a man who sees me as clearly as that is a failure?”  

“You asked me to move here to protect you. And I didn’t. And now he’s back out there and I need to know you’re safe until he isn’t a threat to you anymore. You were gone for five minutes, Els. That was all it took. And now, it feels like if you’re out of my sight for long, I just spend the time on the verge of a damn panic attack.” 

“I asked you to come with me to make me feel safe, to love me, and support me. Not to be a bodyguard. And that’s what you’ve done and more. You know what I love about how you love me?” 

“What?” 

“You’ve always seen me. Every little detail, every word, every oddity and intricacy. You see everything and your love has always reflected that, has always been exactly what I needed. But you can’t love me like that if you can’t see me. And you can’t see me fully if you’re always looking over my shoulder for him.” 

“And if he comes back around? What then?” 

“Then we deal with him. I know he could come back and there’s not much I can do about it. The only thing I can do is not waste my time, our time, waiting for him to knock on our door. He can’t be our anchor, holding us in one spot when we need to move forward. What kind of life would that be for us? I never felt like I could win against him but this made me realize that I win every day by thriving. He tried to hurt me on the opening night of my show and in June, I could potentially win a Tony for that show while he waits to go to prison. That feels like victory in some way to me. And I can live with that. I can live every day knowing that every time he’s shown up, I’ve just come out on the other side stronger and better for it. I could waste my life waiting around for him or I can live it. And I just need to live my life. And we just have to be us. And more than anything, I just want us back.” 

“I want us back too. But I can’t do that if you aren’t even being honest about how you’re feeling and what you need.” 

She sighed. “So I guess it’s my turn, huh?” 

She stared at him for a few moments before saying, “When I left New York, he had taken everything. My identity, self-esteem, personhood. He took it all and left me with the scraps. And for a while, even with the entire country between us… I still lived in terror of him. Afraid of my shadow, afraid to speak without permission… to look people in the eye. I could put on the character of Charlotte to perform for a couple hours a night or for a day on set but what he created was just a shell of a person. And I hated myself for it.” 

Charlotte glanced out of the window at the cars rushed past them, the city that never sleeps indeed. 

“And eventually I put myself back together and I said he’d never break me again… never take that power again.” 

She glanced over to him. “And then he showed up here a-and I realized that terror wasn’t gone… I just let it go so quiet that I forgot it was there. And the moment I saw him, it was like I was that broken girl all over again. When he hit me, while I laid on the ground apologizing to him, you know what he said? ‘There she is… the real Charlotte.’ Like he knew I had dressed up the shell all pretty and different but on the inside? I was… am still hollow… still his broken scared plaything who couldn’t fight him.” 

Michael’s heart broke at how despondent her voice sounded. But as hard as it was for her to admit that, he could not pretend he was not glad she did. This was easily the most honest Charlotte had been with him in their entire relationship, the most revealing about her own insecurities and pain. And regardless of what it took to get there, he knew what a monumental step forward this was. 

He doubted therapy would do much for them, or him individually, at the beginning but Dr. Matthews seemed to hit a home run yet again. 

“But you did fight back, Els. You fought him.” 

“I fought him because of you. Because I saw you in the crowd. Because you came back for me. And I should’ve told you that. You’ve spent almost two months believing you failed me when you saved my life twice that night. I fought and without you, I would’ve lost. I dunno, I guess I just didn’t want to admit that when it comes to him, I’ll always be broken? I’ll always be hollow. And that felt like admitting that all that work and healing to create the woman you fell in love with, the woman I was finally proud of, was a lie. And why would you want to be with a shell? And everytime you treated me like this fragile broken flower, it just felt like you were agreeing that I hadn’t changed too? And that just made me want to prove that I had.”

“Honey bee… You really believe that? That you’re a shell?” 

She shrugged. “What else am I supposed to think? I worked so hard and when I had the chance to show him that I was different, I froze until I knew there was someone bigger and stronger to help me.”

“You wanna know what I believe?” 

“Always.” 

“I think you gotta start giving yourself more grace, baby girl. To survive what you have and be where you are today? You didn’t need me or Jazz or Lauren or Jackson or anyone else to do that, that’s just you. And I’m not even talking about your insane roster of accomplishments. You’re light, baby. I mean literal light, you lighten up every room you walk into, people gravitate toward you in a way I’ve never seen. No one would blame you for being jaded or hardened but you aren’t. You laugh loudly and love hard. You aren’t hollow, Els. You’re overflowing with life and love and light. That’s strength. And acknowledging how he hurt you, how it still hurts you, doesn’t diminish that.” 

“I don’t want to acknowledge that version of me, Michael. Especially not with you. This isn’t a part of me I ever wanted you to see. Didn’t think… you could love me the same if you saw how broken I am. I guess that’s why I’ve also been pretending like I’m fine. Dealing with all this and being open about it… I don’t wanna turn you off.” 

“I wanna see it though, Els. I need to understand you, to support you. I’d marry you tomorrow if we could. You thought it’d be this easy to get rid of me?” 

“Falling into a million pieces after a stalking ex felt like it would be enough? You must really be in love with me then?” Though she meant it as a statement, he could hear the question in her words, her intonation spelling out her doubts. 

“No number of stalking exes could make me fall outta love with you. And there’s no reaction you could have, no number of nightmares or whatever that would do it either. I ain’t going anywhere. I love you and I should be supporting you the way you need it, not however I think is right. I knew that and I still haven’t been doing it and I’m sorry for that.” 

As they talked, Charlotte felt lighter than she had since Shaun waltzed back into her life. Unburdening all of her fears and actually talking to Michael made her feel like they could actually take a step forward, even if it was a series of baby steps. 

“Thank you and I can’t promise that tomorrow I’ll just be an open book. But I promise to try harder to be. I used to have to hide everything from everyone. No one knew the real story cause if I was honest, everything would fall apart and I thought I’d lose everyone. And I guess I convinced myself that going at it alone is the only way to avoid that? And this made me realize that… that’s all I know how to do. But I know I can’t go at it alone all the time and I shouldn’t. Our love was built to withstand a lot more than I give it credit for. So I will try harder and be more honest about how I’m feeling with you. Keeping things from you isn’t right, regardless of the reason. And you deserve better than that. I’m sorry too.” 

“Apology accepted. I know it won’t be easy for either of us, I ain’t expecting that. Let’s just promise that everyday, we’ll try?” 

“That I can do.” Charlotte studied him for a moment before getting up and scooching into the booth next to him. 

She threw caution to the wind and pressed her lips to his. The first second was tentative, as if she was mentally prepared for his sudden rejection. But instead he merely encouraged her, a gentle hand cradling her neck in an effort to bring her closer. And she leaned into it, savoring the renewed intimacy between them. All was not perfect and there was still work to do but she realized that with Michael, she didn’t need perfection. She just needed him. 

She only broke their intimate moment when she remembered they were most certainly in a public place. It hadn’t felt like it but she often felt like, when she was focused on Michael, everyone and everything around them melted away. But she also didn’t want a photo on the shade room tomorrow of them making out in a random diner. 

“Thank you,” she whispered. “For being here and loving me.” 

“Always, Els.”   

***

Michael let out a deep content sigh as he found himself back in his favorite sleeping spot, his face buried in the nook of her neck. 

“Fuck I missed this.” 

“Me too… you’re a really good weighted blanket.” 

“Damn, that’s all I’m good for??” 

Charlotte made a face as if she was contemplating his other qualities. “Yea… that and other fun bedtime activities,” she offered with a joking smile. 

“Say the word and I can show you just how good I am at those activities too.” 

“Not tonight. But only cause I know you’re gonna wanna make up for lost time and I want us to actually stay awake for it.” 

“I’d prefer you be awake too,” he muttered sleepily, the late hour starting to get to him. 

Charlotte could feel the tell-tale signs of Michael starting to drift off but despite the late hour, she found her brain unwilling to turn off as she thought about them. And how lucky she was to be with him. Weeks of disagreement and strife but they still found their way back to each other, found safety and refuge to reveal their fears and actually come closer together after so much time apart. 

If asked, Charlotte wasn’t sure she could find the words to articulate the love she had for this man and the love she felt from him. She never believed she would find this - someone who loved her so deeply, so purely. Someone whose love didn’t hurt. Who loved her scars she saw as ugly and the parts of her that she hid from the world, the parts that were barely bandaged together. For some unknown reason, he did. And he chose every day to love her through it all. 

The painful stinging of tears behind her eyes hit her as she sniffled. This is what hope and excitement about the future felt like, something that before Michael she rarely felt. Because regardless of what happened with her career or anything else, she couldn’t wait to build her life with him. This love was light and everything she hoped for but didn’t believe she deserved. And for the first time since the incident, she wasn’t scared to lose it. She no longer felt like she was watching their love story in fear of the end, but that she was watching it blossom. Because this was just the beginning of their story. 

“You good?” he asked as she sniffled quietly, lifting his head to find her eyes glistening in the dark with tears. “What’s wrong, honey bee??” 

“Nothing, nothing. These are happy tears, I think. I just… Marry me.” 

Michael let out a confused chuckle. “I know it was a crazy few days back then but you remember I already did this right? Proposed?” 

She reached over and turned on their bedside lamp, Michael shifting so she could sit up. 

“Yessss I know. I’m not reproposing. I’d never propose to a man, goes against my religion. I’m saying… Marry me… now. Well, not now as in here,” she amended quickly. “I mean, we’re in bed and we don’t have a marriage license but I don’t wanna wait.” 

“Els… don’t say that shit if you don’t mean it. It’s been a long few days, an emotional few months. We don’t gotta rush if you aren’t ready…”

Michael did not want to get ahead of himself or too excited, worried that she was swept up in the emotions of the day. After all, deciding to get married right away was something he would usually suggest, not her. She has always been the more cautious one where they were concerned. But he could not deny that if she was serious, she would be making him the happiest man on this planet. He was so ready to be her husband, to vow to love her for the rest of his days. He was dreading the year+ it would likely take to find the right time for a wedding given their schedules. He had bounced around ideas of smaller, intimate destination weddings in the fall but they hadn’t found the right fit yet.  

“I’m not rushing. I can see how it looks like that but this isn’t rushing. And I know we still have shit to figure out. I just… It’s gonna sound cliche but whatever time I have with you, whatever time I have to love you and be loved by you? I don’t want to waste it. I don’t wanna wait 3 or 4 months till we’re back in LA or however long it’ll take to plan some big wedding I don’t need. You’ve never wasted our time, Bakari. You’ve always been so sure and moved with that assurance. And I’ve never felt rushed by any of it, it’s always just felt right. And this? I feel sure, it feels right. We could wait if you want to, I’ll totally understand. I know this is literally insane. But I’m ready to be your wife, to build a life with you. I’m ready for our next step and I think you are too? Maybe?” 

At his silence, she added. “And it doesn’t have to be a big thing. We can go to the courthouse for all I care.” 

Silence. 

“Say something… please. Before I pray that God let’s the ground swallow me whole from embarrassment.” 

“My bad my bad. I was trying to find the words but then got offended at you thinking I’m gonna give you a courthouse wedding like we’re two teens trying to hide a pregnancy or some shit.” 

“What?? There’s nothing wrong with a courthouse wedding.” 

“Nah there isn’t but what about your family?? Mine? You don’t know how happy this makes me. And I’m all in without hesitation. But you deserve a special day, not a drive by at the courthouse. Give me 30 days, Els. Memorial Day weekend in LA, let me make it special for you.” 

Charlotte transitioned to sitting up on her knees before literally catapulting herself into his arms with pure excitement. Michael had to roll a bit to make sure they didn’t topple right off the bed. 

“We really doing this?? We’re getting married in 30 days?” 

“Yea! I can’t wait to be your wife, Bakari. Besides, you were right, Tony award winning Charlotte Bennett-Jordan has a far better ring to it.” 

“Fuck I love you so much,” his heart could’ve exploded into a million pieces in his chest. There was work to be done but they’d do it together, every day for the rest of their lives. And he couldn’t wait. 

“I love you more.” 

“Impossible.” He stared down at her, licking his lips as his eyes filled with lust. “You awake enough now for me to show you just how much?” 

Charlotte squeezed her legs together as his deep baritone reignited that feeling in her core. His lips searched for her weak spot on the side of her neck, caressing and sucking with the skill of a God. Fuck, it had been too long. But something stopped her. 

“I want you… so bad. But what if we wait until the wedding?” At his incredulous expression, she added, “You know, think about how much more special it’ll be after we’ve reconnected more emotionally after all this, our first time back in a while as husband and wife. It could be really special. What do you think?” 

Michael knew in his brain that she was right, it would be more special and intense after a long bout of celibacy. But the smaller head that controlled some of his decision making… was less than thrilled. 

So he immediately got out of bed and started to walk toward the bathroom. 

“Ok we haven’t had sex in weeks, 30 more days couldn’t have upset you that much??” she called out after him, her surprise clear in her tone. 

Michael turned as he reached the door, smiling his superstar boyish grin at her. “I’m not mad, I’m in. I’m just… gonna jump in the shower.” 

Charlotte doubled over in laughter at him. “Let me guess, a cold one?” 

“Ice cold. You shouldn’t be so irresistible, honey bee.” 

“You’re a mess,” she smiled at him. But he was her mess. And she loved him for it.  

“Maybe but fair warning, you won’t be tapping out that night.” 

She smiled. “As if I’d ever tap out on you. I guess we’ll be sleeping in separate corners tonight again?” 

“We’ll see how effective this cold shower is.” 

She let out a belly laugh as she flopped back into their warm covers and he started the shower. She could hear a girlish shrill noise a few moments later that she suspected was him stepping into the freezing water. She had to use their duvet to muffle the sounds of her giggles as she listened to him mutter expletives as he adjusted to the water temperature. 

“You good in there? Sounds like someone’s dying?” she called loudly over the water, deciding that she couldn’t not tease him for this. 

“Shouldn’t you be asleep??” 

She rolled her eyes with a grin and turned over to try to fall asleep, leaving her future husband to his needed activities. There would be quite a few cold showers and long runs in their future. For the next 30 days at least.

Taglist: @certifiedlesbianbaddie @bangtanxmegan @reelwriter19 @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @hi888888sworld @msniaimani @destinio1 @lynaye1993 @chaoticevilbakugo @blackerthings @pipsqueak-98 @miyuhpapayuh @passionxwrites @gopaperless @injerafiend @ari17

***

A/N: I realized that the last time I updated the main story was like December lol my sweet OG babies... But they're getting married!! I really wanted to explore their recovery and hang ups before moving them forward. The next chapter is their wedding and then our final chapter (can you guess what night that'll be? lol) drop a comment and let me know what you thought!

[cadewitha]

my contribution to payneland day 2 is that in the myth of Achilles and Patroclus Charles would be Patroclus and Edwin would be Achilles (I’ve seen most everyone else say the other way around, but let me explain)

First of all, their relationship is similar to Achilles and Pat in the sense that Achilles never really had anyone to truly understand him before Pat. And while he may have been surrounded by others (Cat King, Monty, Simon), it was never in his cruel “destiny” to forge connections with anyone. That’s, of course, until he meets Pat and a friendship/ love affair is forged between the two of them, making them inseparable. Edwin was never meant to be happy. His life sucked, and he went to hell unfairly. His destiny was written in such a way that he should never experience joy, and YET.

Charles comes from a similar place as Patroclus. He had inattentive/abusive parents, never really felt a sense of belonging, and was inexplicably drawn to this one boy (Achilles/Edwin). Once meeting his Achilles, he found himself dedicated to this boy within a number of HOURS. Such devotion has only ever been written of in myths.

I feel as though we can get really caught up on the VISUALS of myths. In the story of Achilles and Patroclus, Achilles is this buff, golden, god-like man (just like Jayden Revri amiright haha) while Patroclus is a weaker, scrawny and nervous boy. When given these descriptions, it’s easy to say that Edwin is obviously the physically weaker one, and Charles is the brawn. Even knowing their personalities we can fall into this assumption, as Achilles is undoubtedly more of a people person then Patroclus, but I still feel this way of thinking to be incorrect. The answer, for me, lies in the dynamic.

Patroclus views Achilles as his savior, his light, his hope. Charles absolutely feels this way towards Edwin, as showcased by the emphasis on the lantern and warm lighting often used when the camera is showing Charles looking at Edwin. Achilles views Patroclus to be his reprieve, his comfort, his heart. Edwin, obviously once again, feels this towards Charles, as showcased with the only scenes where Edwin acts or appears relaxed are the ones where the two boys are interacting or simply together. Even the whole Hell segment could be considered a metaphor for this, as the times when Edwin feels most lost are the times when he doesn’t have Charles. Again this is a huge theme in the myth of Achilles and Patroclus as shown with Achilles’s grief at Pat’s death, and depictions of him being lost anytime he is without Pat.

My last point is that Edwin, to me, feels like a classic greek hero. He has gone on a massive, gods damned journey, he has discovered comfort that has been ardently tried to be ripped away from him, but ultimately in the end found an eternal peace. Edwin is a hero. I’m not saying that Charles isn’t, as he too has many traits, I just feel that this myth isn’t quite his. Maybe Hercules because of the anger issues, lol. Either way, I believe that in the case of Achilles and Patroclus, Edwin is most likely to be Achilles and Charles as Patroclus.

[shadesoflsk]

MILLION DOLLAR BLOODLINE — Adam & Eve

A political candidate has been found dead and a well known agent is working alongside you. Check my million dollar bloodline masterlist for general warnings.

Chapter 1

pairing: Vampire/Agent Leon x Fem Detective reader

warnings: Rivals to lovers (Kinda one sided at first because reader doesn't get along with men) misogyny, sexism (from the press) gore, violence, death, suicide, blood, mentions of kidnapping and experimentations, fucked up government.

author's note: Hi! So, this took me longer than I expected lol. I had to delete and redo so many parts but at last I'm comfortable with the result. This is basically an introduction to both characters hence the name I gave to this chapter. I hope you guys like it.

Blinded by the constant flashes of cameras, numerous police officers make their way out of the tumultuousness of journalists and reporters who have gathered —in the name of informing— to be the first ones to publish headlines that will surely raise more commotion in the already horror-stuck citizens.

Thank God the scene of the crime is away from those prying eyes that won’t hesitate to snap a picture or two just for the sake of popularity or being contacted by those trashy and shitty newspapers that fall into the sensationalism homicides and crimes attract. 

The eighties are certainly… one of a hell decade to live in. Exuberant neon lights and flashy outfits weren’t enough to silence the crimes that were occurring each day in a city led by white-collared dicks who are ‘better than anyone else.’ The citizens’ words, not yours.

It was easy to despise everyone right now. From those politicians who share their condolences but deep down they have the same fucked up ideal and sentiment—they were happy their enemies keep dying. To the obtuse and short-sighted journalists who kept asking the same questions.

Not even your disdain and witty answers could push them away to the hell hole they came from. Catchy and well-sold tabloids were their objectives and you were the perfect subject to them. A woman in the eighties being the leader of a politic-related case? Oh God, the newspaper loves dragging down women.

Misogynistic terms were chanted even more than the national damn anthem. “God, spare us from a woman leading this case!” “Is this a new gold digger searching for a politician that isn’t dead?” Those were the most ‘tame’ titles they could come up with. However, rumor has it that directors and journalists love calling you names. Ultimately, those whispers die down as soon as the window from your Porsche 959 rolls down and the flashes of cameras turn your way.

“Ma’am we received news that the body you found was in fact, Mr. Clark. Our Major Candidate. Is there any clue this time?” The young journalist asked you. He was definitely a rookie, that ma’am that fell so easily from his lips, and his stance gave it away. Maybe you could be softer with him, aggressiveness was starting to wear you off.

You take out your sunglasses, the snaps of the pictures get harder to bear but for once, you try holding eye contact with this said journalist. In his gaze, you admire his inexperience and eagerness to get something out of this conversation.

Sadly, there’s nothing to offer from a lifeless body and a pool of blood that could flood the entire apartment of the deceased.

“It’s still unknown. We shall wait for the forensic team to provide us with the results of the autopsy.” Your voice is uninterested, an automatic reaction each time a question is asked. 

“So… The police department is once again showing signs of inability to complete a case?”

Fuck them all. All of them.

A few hours ago, you had received a call which informed you about the disappearance of a candidate, a major candidate. Of course, a crime would occur when the elections were just around the corner. A perfect scenario to bring the already most famous and glamorized case in the decade more mystery and gore.

A disappearance meant a homicide, it would take just minutes before you were notified that a body had been found. 

And you were right.

Eventually, a coworker of yours informed you—with an annoyed expression on their face— that a drained body was found in an apartment. 

Working on two cases simultaneously was definitely tiring, and it was starting to show on your face. On one hand, multiple crimes are occurring in Raccoon City, all of them involving people from high society: CEOs, ex-presidents, and candidates. Idle good-for-nothing people who can wipe their asses with a one hundred dollar bill, to put it simply.

Difficult to deal with was an understatement. Everyone at the police station knew one thing though— someone important is leaking information. This said individual doesn’t want to get their hands dirty with blood. Acting like a vendetta, in the darkness, they are cleaning the government in a way.

However, the catch of this case was rather sui generis—not even decipherable. Corruption was the root of all problems and it even showed in various scenes of the crime. Politicians were found dead in certain ways that didn’t match up with their own lifestyles. Suicides, disappearances, homicides without a murder weapon. Someone important must be behind all of this and those victims were merely their pawns.

And on the other hand, a case that seems to get more sinister and fucked up was brimming in the shadows. One that also involved those who justice can’t reach. Besides politicians disappearing, numerous citizens were also missing without a trace. Families were left alone without their breadwinning fathers, without their nurturing mothers, and especially without their loved ones.

The government’s reputation was unmistakable, they didn’t care. Protests were organized without any response or reassurance that a solution would be provided. And then again, the damnation and torment of those who searched through hell and earth was once again brought to them.

Without further ado, you walked out of the police department and embarked on the fantastic journey of seeing another dead body. Not the best sight to see after having your lunch but if you don't go, no one else will. 

You arrived at the scene of the crime and luckily, you didn’t run into any reporters, word hadn’t reached them yet. You showed your ID to the cops that surround the apartment complex, they let you in.

The excruciating silence as you wait in the elevator was always agonizing. It allowed your mind to create the most gut wrenching scenarios. You’re a veteran at this point, you have seen 10 dead politicians over the course of the months. However, it doesn’t get any easier.

The first thing that welcomed you as the door of the elevators opened again was the metallic smell of blood. With a deep breath, you fixed your hair and expected the worst. 

“Good morning everyone.” Your voice rang through the living room of the apartment. There was no trace of violence or self defense, but the rancid reek continued filling your nostrils. Nonetheless, the authority in your voice never faltered, you simply didn’t allow it.

Acting tough was the norm and giving no shit about anyone was the rule that followed. It’s always been like that. You can’t crack jokes or show a smile just like your male superiors can. Bullshit, you thought. People love saying that the 80s are the best, but everyone is fucking misogynistic. 

When you saw that your team had your attention, you proceeded. “Where’s the body?”

“Inside.” A cop said. He was a veteran, the wrinkles forming around his eyes and the one-word phrase told you as much. “There’s a federal agent there, though.”

A federal agent?

It was a matter of time before the government decided to send one of its people. They should have after the first one. But as you already know, they’re scavengers, they don’t give a damn about the country nor themselves. If the death of a candidate could bring more votes to another party, they would close their eyes for the sake of it. 

“Anything I may know before going inside?” You ask. 

“Nothing much. The state of the body is the same as the ones we have found before.” The dull and repetitive tone of his voice was proof of how everyone was getting frustrated with this case. “Although this one really looks like a suicide.”

Interesting, a politician who actually killed himself instead of being killed.

“Thank you.” Your legs worked on their own and strode off to where the body was. The main bedroom. For a moment, you hesitated to turn the knob around. Your eyes were fixated on your red nails —the same color you’re expected to see once you enter the room.

And you were right, your gaze which was now looking at the floor only witnessed the ruby red color that painted the rug. And, as your eyes traveled, you observed the man who was lying lifeless on the floor. 

Your eyes then stopped when you noticed the man who had his back facing you. 5'10 inches with dirty blond hair, black leather jacket that hugged his figure just right. Undoubtedly, the build of an agent yet you couldn’t care less about his appearance right now.

Clearing your throat, you made your presence known. Even though a part of you believed that this man must have heard you as soon as you entered the scene of the crime. 

He turned around and you could see the solemn expression that soon turned into a polite smile. So, the blue-eyed male that was in front of you was the federal agent the government has sent? Interesting.

“Hello. You may be the leading detective of this case, right?” There is no accent in his voice nor a belittling hint in his speech. You were used to being questioned about your position or straight up told not to waste time before you could even identify yourself.

“Indeed.” You nodded before stepping closer and showing him your badge which had your name and occupation there. There’s a moment of silence before Leon speaks again, with a faint smile on his lips. 

“Kennedy. Leon Kennedy.” He stated his name, a muffled chuckle leaving after his phrase. 

At first, you remained expressionless, not expecting this stoic ‘professional’ to introduce himself in a rather comical way. Not when there’s a dead body lying at his feet.

“What are you? James Bond?” You were genuinely dumbfounded. 

“Do I look the part?” He had a hand on his hip, casually standing in front of you. If audacity and lack of decorum had a name, it would have Leon written at the top of a dictionary. “I'd call myself hilarious, though.”

“Kinda goofy, I'd say.” You retorted, walking past him and looking through your pockets to pull out a pair of gloves, the sound of latex being stretched followed your answer. This part was always the hardest, even when the body has been already inspected by the team of criminalists, you ought to re-check.

“Let's keep it at funny.” His eyes darted to where your figure was, the scent of your perfume couldn’t override the constant smell of blood but he could sense the faint aroma of coconut and vanilla.

"So... the government sent you?" You adjusted your gloves as your eyes locked on Leon's. His blue eyes were piercing yet they weren't threatening.

"Yup." Leon crossed his arms as he continued watching you. "Kinda late, I'd say. Mr Clark was... the eighth victim?"

"The eleventh." You corrected him.

"Damn, they keep falling like dominoes."

You crouch down to inspect the body, there’s nothing visibly new compared to the other subjects of the crime. Lifeless eyes, and a nasty open wound on his forehead which resembled a shot. But other than that? Nothing much. 

“Agent Kennedy, I don't think you're being professional.” You absentmindedly trailed off as you checked the candidate’s finger, paying close attention to his nails. Just in case this wasn’t a suicide case and there was DNA left in the victim’s nails.

“You're right.” He shrugged off as he sighed. He had done his part of the job before you arrived, so his presence was no longer required there. However, he stayed. “But then again, do you truly care for that asshole?”

Your ears perked at Leon’s sudden question. Sure, your disdain for politicians wasn’t exactly a secret. Everyone at the station knew about your hatred for the rich. But needless to say, you weren’t expecting the government’s boy to speak in such a manner.

Nor did you anticipate that he knew about you. 

“Careful. Aren’t you supposed to be an agent?” Your demeanor slightly shifted into a more serious one. One that warned him he shouldn’t stick his nose where it doesn’t belong. And while you were a rightful civilian who actually wanted to restore peace in the city. If this rumor reached the newspaper, it would be the end for you.

“Sure. But that doesn’t mean I’m fond of them.” And Leon wasn’t dumb, not at all. He caught the meaning behind those simple yet blunt words. “Or are you going to tell me you like working for your boss?” 

“I’m the boss here.” Your expression quickly turned sour as Leon expressed his own opinions. You just noticed the tick of a clock, a persistent noise that only served to highlight the already growing tension.

See, you weren’t a bland person, far from that. You appreciate jokes and even engage in light-hearted teasing with your friends. Not with colleagues.

But at that moment, antics and pranks weren’t something you easily accepted. Living to be compared to men who were incapable next to you built walls that made it impossible to reach your core, to your true self.

“See? Maybe your subordinates don’t like you.” 

“You should learn when to stop biting, Mr Kennedy.” 

Leon just laughed and shook his head. His eyes stopped being focused on yours and decided to gaze through the large window the room had. The perfect view of the city was in front of him, a perfectly corrupted place.

A welcoming silence—after their awkward banter— set in. You took this opportunity to ask for more information related to the dead candidate. As you let go of his hand, you got up and took off your gloves.

“So… Agent, any background information the now deceased may have?”

“Besides the obvious? Not really.” A sigh slipped from the blue-eyed man. “He had a beautiful wife and beautiful kids. The white picket fence kind of life.”

“Minus the obvious opulent lifestyle he had.” You said.

“Minus the obvious opulent lifestyle he had, indeed.” Leon replies in tandem. 

He shook his head, letting out a sigh you didn’t know he was holding. A headache was already brewing and you simply massaged your temples. The sensation of running in circles was once again setting and penetrating your mindset—there’s no clue to even pinpoint the cause of so many crimes.

“There’s nothing else here. Maybe your coworkers have something you could work with?”

And while you felt frustrated for not being able to do more, you let your irritation die down as you nodded.

As both of you exited the scene of the crime, flashing lights and camera shutters could be heard around the building as if they were annoying bugs that wouldn’t stop bothering you. Mosquitoes sucking the blood out of your systems.

Between noises and judging stares from the journalists, Leon’s stride led him to his bike that was just parked in front of your car. As you could already guess, the lenses of the cameras were getting the perfect take for tomorrow’s diary, especially since people love to read about the woman of the year being close to a man. To assert their sexist stance. 

“Hey,” Leon called you, his voice barely audible as the constant background noise was still pretty much present. “Take this with you.”

A confused expression set on your face as you eyed the manila envelope Leon gave you. Before you could even open it to inspect what documents were in front of you, Leon’s voice stopped you.

“I don’t think it’d be wise of you to open that here.” Your attention returned to the blond man who was now putting on his helmet. Immediately, you pressed the folder against your chest, protecting the contents inside of it.

“What's it?” 

“You’ll know later.” His hands gripped the handlebars, already turning on the engines. “For now, don’t do anything stupid.”

Haunted by the plethora of degrading terms you were called, your first instinct was to roll your eyes as you watched the agent driving away from the building and from the horde of journalists. 

Nonetheless, a part of you couldn’t help but read between the lines. Leon hasn’t been particularly cruel to you like every other cop or colleague. So, his statement could be related to what’s inside the folder.

For now, you simply walked towards your car. Or rather, tried. Ready to be cornered by the starved media while cops attempted to serve as a protective wall around you.

Who am I if not exploited, abused, and corrupted?

A question that used to haunt Leon’s dreams and nightmares. His life purpose has been nothing but being the Government's puppet. Images and memories of being exploited and destroyed build up the man he is now.

Or rather, the beast.

In the search of the ultimate soldier, who would fight against every adversity. A creature that didn’t belong to this world was created. The once human could no longer be classified as one, and he gained the name of a vampire.

His hunger for food was replaced by a maddening and unbearable desire for the vital fluid of blood and his right to die was robbed from him as numerous experiments proved that, in fact, no human weapon could kill him now. 

Leon’s spirit was bonded to eternity therefore dying meant nothing to him. He doesn’t belong to life since his humanity was stripped away from him the moment he sold his soul to the nation. But death didn’t want him either, since now mortality runs away from him as the monster he has become.

It was a statement he grew accustomed to. The world was cruel and he was reduced to a simple and mere battle machine. The best weapon the nation had.

Although, he knew he was far from being the best arsenal the government could come up with.

They were greedy. It's always been that way. And the moment the disappearances started, Leon's nature was once again brought to the surface.

It all started when he once switched to a News Channel. The slow and grim music was playing in the background as the headline read: NEWS REPORT: FATHER OF TWO IS MISSING. Followed by another update that indicated he was the third man who has disappeared in May. 

No hell could be hot enough for whoever was behind all of this. However, Leon was terribly sure that this case wasn’t something orchestrated by just one individual. The anger he had so deeply buried now flourished as a flower. Yet this time it came with thorns that would cut and stab those who wished nothing but to set the world in despair.

He didn’t wait. If he stood still more innocent people would pay the price of being victims of the same destiny he faced. 

— August 14, 1987 —

Mr Clark,

I send my most sincere congratulations to you as I’ve come to know that you’re people’s favorite candidate. I’m so sure your image must be impeccable and flawless to reach such level of popularity. 

However, It’s so strange to me that as a public figure, you condemn those corrupted politicians who indulge in nothing but richness, crime, and sinful activities when your past (and present) does nothing but stain your image. 

But, I’m a generous individual. I’ll give you two options which you can choose from. You come out clean, show everyone the type of sick criminal you are or, you simply end your life. Easy, right?

After all, you didn’t hesitate to end someone else’s.

[alwaysonthemend]

Author’s Note: Hello my friends. I’ve been having the worst writer's block of my life and I am so so sorry that it’s been so long. This fic has been in my drafts for forever so I decided to finish it up since my brain is all out of new ideas. That being said, I’ve always planned on this being a two-part story so I thought I would leave you all with part 1 for now while I try to get my shit together lol. As always, I hope you enjoy. And if you see any typos… no you didn’t. Also don’t worry I promise that part 2 will have hella smut ;)

Content Warnings: Angst / talk of sex (non graphic - happened in the past) / sadness / feelings of not being good enough / low self esteem / unrequited love (for now) / miscommunication

Word Count: 8k

My Taglist: Here

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･

Maybe it's just the excitement of the last show. Maybe it’s nerves or just the tension and energy oozing from everyone as they all prepared for showtime. Maybe it's the fear. Maybe it's the joy of celebration, or maybe it’s the dread of things going wrong. And maybe, if you’re really honest with yourself, it’s the goodbye that stands menacingly on the horizon – like a sentry waiting to capture your heart in his iron first. Maybe it’s none of those things, or maybe it’s a combination of all of them. But it’s worse tonight – that need that you have for him. The one that seems like it’s become a constant storm cloud that hovers oppressively over your heart, no matter how hard you try to push it down. It’s still there – lingering and festering like a wound. You push the feeling away for what feels like the thousandth time. Tonight isn’t the night. 

Show nights are hectic, especially a night as important as this one; Dreams in Gold is drawing towards its inevitable ending, and everyone wants these last few shows to finish on a high note – preferably with as few hiccups as possible. There’s only a handful more after tonight – with just a small break for the boys in between, before the last leg kicks off. And your job is simple: make sure the boys look good while doing what they do best. 

Josh’s makeup is usually first, as he prefers to be ready to go a lot earlier than the rest of the band. A fact which, as he’s stated numerous times, is due in part to his nerves and anxiety before he takes the stage. His jumpsuits may be his armor, but his makeup is his war paint – equally as important (if not moreso) than his beautiful outfits. He’s jittery as he sits in his chair, leg bouncing and fingers drumming endlessly on his knee. 

“Josh,” you mutter as you swipe some gold glitter across his eyelids, “you’ve got to stop moving.”

“Sorry.” He mumbles, voice soft as he tries to rest it for the night. “Just nervous.”

“I know.” You tell him, giving his knee an affectionate squeeze. “But you all are going to do great. You always do.” You pull out a tube of mascara and delicately swipe it through his lashes to complete his look. “What is it you always say? ‘Fuck fear’?” 

Josh gives you an airy chuckle and a lopsided grin. 

“Something like that.” 

“Well, try and follow some of your own advice, Oh Wise One.” 

He just rolls his eyes playful at you, but the tension eases from his shoulders a tiny bit. Small victories. 

There’s comfortable silence for a while as you methodically glue a few rhinestones to his cheek bones. 

“And when are you going to follow my advice?”

You quirk your brow at him quizzically, eyes staying focused on his rhinestones as you attempt to make them as symmetrical as possible. 

“When are you going to say ‘fuck fear’?” He straightens his posture slightly as you pull away from him, brows pinching together. “The phrase seems…” he waves his hand vaguely towards you. “...particularly apt for your current situation.”

You turn your back to him to place the rhinestone case on the counter. You know exactly what he’s getting at but you’re in no mood to discuss such matters with him. He caught onto you a long time ago – his remarkable ability to pick up on subtle nuances and feelings from everyone around him becoming the bane of your existence for the past few months. 

“Sooner or later, you’ll have to admit the truth to him. Once you admit it to yourself, of course.” 

“I’m not admitting anything to anyone, Joshua.” You still haven’t turned back to look at him, instead busying yourself with pulling out the items you need for Sam next. “I wish you would just let this go. It’s just a stupid. It’ll go away.” 

You both know that you’re lying. 

“I highly doubt that, love.” Josh says sweetly, rising from his chair to come and stand next to you. He places his hand on your shoulder and the coldness of his fingers seeps into your skin at the contact – yet the warmth of the gesture isn’t lost on you. 

“I know you.” He pauses, grinning a bit. “And trust me when I say I know him… given the whole twin thing, and all that. This isn’t just a passing feeling.”

“Maybe for me it isn’t.” You say, a slight bit of resentment bleeding out in your tone as you pull open a makeup drawer with more force than necessary. “But he’s just so…” You trail off, looking for the right word. 

“Aloof?” Josh supplies knowingly, hand dropping from your shoulder to rest at his side. 

You nod once at him, eyes dropping to stare at the bottles of foundation that line the counter in front of you. 

“That’s his own fear getting in the way. You know how he is: him and emotions don’t get along too well. They haven’t since we were kids. He prefers to lock them all up and throw away the key instead of allowing himself to be vulnerable.” 

“He doesn’t owe me anything – especially not vulnerability. We got drunk and fucked each other in a bar bathroom… hardly romantic or vulnerable to begin with.” You bite your lip, the unwanted and all-encompassing hurt from that night rearing its ugly head yet again. “And we both agreed that it was a mistake, and then we moved on. There isn’t anything else to it.” 

“Sunflower,” Josh says, the nickname falling from his lips in almost a whisper, “you and I – and him for that matter, know that neither of you have moved on.”  

You don’t say anything. You don’t know what there is to say. You want to believe him, you really do. You want to allow that shriveled up little seedling of hope in your chest to bloom. But you know better. You learned better. 

“You don’t believe me.” It’s not a question. He knows you don’t. 

“I wish I could. But he won’t give me anything to go on. One minute he’s there next to me and he’s flirting and being so sweet… and the next it’s like he’s a million miles away – barely even looking at me.” You sigh, and the weight of it all seems to press down on your shoulders as you slump forward, allowing yourself a moment of weakness with the kind man who stands in front of you. “I just wish he would talk to me. Why won’t he just talk to me?” 

You hate the tears that burn behind your eyes and you hate the ache that opens up like a chasm in your chest. You wish you could hate him, too. Lord knows you’ve tried. 

“Jake isn’t the best at words. But he’ll try. For you, I know he will.” He offers you a kind smile that soothes your aching heart a little bit. “Go to him. I promise he’ll talk if you’d just give him the opportunity to. He’s too afraid to approach you first.” 

You glance at your watch. 

“It’s getting close. I still need to do Sammy and Danny.”

Josh hears the unspoken dismissal and he inclines his head to you. 

“Of course. I’ll leave you alone now. You know I’m only pestering you because I love you and want you to be happy.” 

“I love you too, Josh.” You giggle. “Why couldn’t I have just fallen for you instead of your brother? You’re so much easier to talk to.” You lament, giving him a self-deprecating smile. 

Josh’s eyes glitter with amusement and he grins at you, the apples of his cheeks growing pink with laughter. 

“Oh I wish, sweet Sunflower.” He bows his head, allowing the curls on his forehead to fall slightly. “But alas, my heart belongs to another, anyway. A losing battle it would have been.” He pitches his tone upwards, summoning his most theatrical voice. “My heart burns with undying love for someone else.” He says, raising his arms with an obnoxiously over-the-top flourish.“My soul has been intertwined with another. The call of the universe summoned us tog-”

“Okay, yeah I’m sure.” You interrupt him, shaking your head in laughter at his dramatics. “Give your undying love a kiss for me, would you? In case I leave before you all?” 

“Trying to steal him from me?” Josh asks, placing a hand dramatically over his heart, eyes widening in mock surprise for a moment before smiling at you warmly.“Of course I will. But you better not leave before saying goodbye. And that’s an order.”

You give him a salute. 

“Yes sir, your majesty.” 

And with that, he’s gone – curly head disappearing out the corridor and leaving you with a head swimming with too many thoughts to process. 

Your relationship with Jake has been special from the start. From the first moment that you’d met him, you’d been drawn to him – like a moth to a flame. He made you feel alive and excited and terrified all at once. Trading flirtations with him became second nature – you poking fun at his pension for dressing in all black (pointedly referring to him as emo despite how much he denies it), and he always made sure to laugh whenever your naturally clumsy nature caused you to trip or drop something. But there’s never any malice in your little exchanges – your words instead dripping with thinly veiled joy (and perhaps a bit of nerves) as the two of you interact with each other.  

Even your nickname comes from Jake. That first day that you had met him, you’d been wearing a dress with sunflowers on it. He’d complemented it – telling you the flowers brought out the color of your eyes. And so maybe you’d worn a pair of sunflower earrings the next time you saw him (though you’d never admit to him that you did it on purpose), and Jake had been quick to point them out before jokingly referring to you as Sunflower. And the name had stuck – a fact which you were infinitely glad of. 

Your flirting with Jake continued to escalate as the two of you got to know each other better and it didn’t take long for your crush on him to develop into something more. Jake had carved a space for himself within your heart and no one else could fill it like he could. And before long, those flirty conversations between the two of you snowballed into a drunken, passionate-filled night in a bar bathroom – fueled on by lowered inhibitions and post-show adrenaline. It was fast and hard, but you’d enjoyed yourself thoroughly and hope had unfurled itself in your chest like a flower in the sun. Though it quickly withered and died once the afterglow had died off and Jake had told you plainly that it was an alcohol-fueled mistake. 

He’d said sorry, and he looked like he really was. And you’d assured him that there were no hard feelings and that yes, it had in fact been a mistake. Though it was a mistake for different reasons than what he had thought. For him – at least you assumed, the mistake lies in that he allowed himself to become carried away, drunk and tense from a show. For you, though, the mistake is that you fell for him… and in the fact that you now knew what it was like to have him – only for him to be promptly ripped away from you again. Which only made his absence all the worse. 

And although you’d both promised to act like it never happened, things changed. He grew distant. Never cold, but the familiarity and ease that had once existed between the two of you had been shattered beyond repair. No more flirty conversations or silly exchanges between the two of you. Instead, awkwardness has taken up residence. Every now and then, that old joviality would slip back into your interactions with him but he quickly catches himself and reels it back in. It’s confusing and hurtful, and you often lose sleep over his constant swinging back and forth. Regret lays heavy in your mind when you think back to that night at the bar, wishing that you’d put a stop to things before it got so far. 

You’re snapped from your melodramatic thoughts by Sam boisterously crashing into the room, a goofy smile plastered over his face. 

“I’m ready to be bedazzled!” He exclaimed, planting his lanky form into the chair and you couldn’t help the smile that overtook you, and the sadness of the moment prior is shoved from your mind as you fall into easy conversation with him. 

Danny follows soon after Sam, and in the bustle of getting everything ready, you almost forget about everything. Though the thoughts still remain, brewing in the back of your mind like a thunderstorm just waiting to be unleashed.  

The show is spectacular, as is to be expected from your boys. As nervous as they might be beforehand, they never fail to deliver a jaw-dropping performance. You’d watched from the sides, soaking up the energy of the last show and doing your best to not think about the months that you were about to spend without getting to see them at all. Though you all live in Nashville, there’s no reason for you to see any of them outside of work. And even though they’re technically your bosses, they have all quickly wormed their way into your heart, earning themselves the title of ‘friend’ above all else. 

The night is turning out to be magical and you’re struck with a sudden surge of courage as you stand there watching them perform– or more specifically, watching him perform. 

He’s truly in his element up there on stage, shredding on his guitar like there’s no tomorrow. You always enjoy getting to see this side of Jake, given how reserved he tends to be in his normal day-to-day life. In the time that you’ve known him, you’ve discovered that Jake is stoic and reserved around those he doesn’t know – content to sit in the corner and watch; but when he’s around people that he knows and trusts, his humor and kindness shine brighter than anyone else’s you’d ever met. You’d seen before how the fans often referred to Josh and Jake as the sun and moon, affectionately pointing out their subtle differences in personality despite being twins. But you had learned that Jake is by no means any less affectionate and joyful as Josh is, he’s just content to be a little quieter about it – making those times that he is loud all the more special. 

Once the show was over, the boys and some of the other crew were planning on going out to celebrate – apparently having booked a private room at a restaurant downtown in which everyone could make a little merry before officially saying goodbye. You hadn’t wanted to go, but Josh and Danny had given you their best puppy dog eyes, and you’d begrudgingly agreed to accompany them. 

Which is how you find yourself sitting at a table in the corner, brooding over your earlier conversation with Josh. With the tour being on break for now, you won’t be seeing any of them until it starts up again. And although you’re confident that Josh, Sam, and Danny will probably stay in contact with you here and there, (and maybe ask to get lunch every now and again) you know for a fact that the same can’t be said for Jake. If the past few months were anything to go by, you know that it’s going to be radio silence as soon as tonight is over. You watch him out of the corner of your eye as he goes around the room, making conversation with seemingly everyone but you. It hurts, and maybe it’s the liquor that’s coursing through your veins or the months of hurt finally spilling over, but you decide that enough is enough. You’re tired of living on what ifs and maybes. You hear Josh’s voice in your head, clear as a bell: Fuck fear. 

With that thought in mind, you down the rest of your drink and stand up, determined to finally speak with Jake about what’s going on between the two of you. He’s across the room, talking with Danny’s drum kit tech. Jake looks effortlessly gorgeous, just as he always does.  

As you begin your trek across the room the nerves and adrenaline kick in. You wipe your sweaty palms on your pants and roll your shoulders back. 

He’s right there. All you have to do is ask him if you can speak with him for a moment. You know he’ll agree to – despite everything, Jake is still one of the kindest people you’ve ever met. He’d never intentionally upset you… or anyone for that matter. 

Josh had told you that Jake feels the same. Josh knows Jake better than anyone… and you trust Josh. And you trust Jake not to intentionally hurt you. He’s just afraid – just like you are. 

His back is to you. Easiest thing in the world to just… touch his arm to get his attention. 

Just as you reach your hand out to touch his shoulder, a girl who you’ve never seen before slides up next to him, comfortably easing her arm around his waist. Jake throws his arm over her shoulders and draws her in close and you watch in detached horror as he turns his head to face her and presses a kiss to her cheek. 

You draw back as if burned, spinning on your heel with the plan of getting the fuck out of here as fast as you can, hurt and embarrassment washing over you in waves – mingling with each other and making the perfect concoction for a panic attack. 

Frantically, your eyes scan the crowd in search of Josh: your one comfort throughout all of this, but you don’t see him. God, where the fuck is he? Of all the times-

“Sunflower?”

It’s Jake’s voice, and you turn to see him, Danny’s tech, and the girl looking at you in concern. 

“Are you alright?” Jake asks, dropping his arm from around the girl to turn around more fully. 

“Yes, yes, I’m fine.” Your voice comes out breathless and a little frantic, doing a poor job of hiding your impending meltdown. 

“Are you sure? You look a little-” Jake starts.

“I was actually just about to leave. Sorry.” You interrupt him, unwilling to spend a moment longer watching someone else have what you want so badly.  

“Already?” Danny’s tech asks, and if you were in a better state of mind you’d probably feel guilty for not being able to remember his name. Instead, your mind is focused on the mounting panic rising in your chest, threatening to overtake you as you desperately try to keep your cool. 

“I’m a little tired.” You supply vaguely, eyes scanning the crowd again in search of Josh. Still no sign of him. 

“Well, I was hoping to introduce you to Lindsey.” Jake says, causing your eyes to cut back to him. He’s smiling, but you can’t decipher the odd look in his eyes. 

“Hi.” She says, giving you a kind smile. “It’s really nice to meet you.” 

She extends her hand for you to shake and your eyes briefly snap to Jake’s. He looks on edge, like he’s waiting for something. Your approval? You’re not sure. 

You shake the girl’s hand. 

“Hi. I’m Y/n.” 

Lindsey smiles. She’s pretty. Very pretty. She’s not wearing a lot of makeup, just a little bit of mascara and some blush. Her clothes aren’t overly flashy and her eyes seem soft and kind. She’s exactly the type of girl you can imagine Jake going for and the thought makes you want to throw up. But instead, like the adult you are, you plaster a smile on your face to match hers. 

“Jake’s told me a little bit about you. He says you’re a great makeup artist.” You know she’s saying that to be nice and to find some ground where you’re comfortable – obviously sensing that you’re on edge and trying to help in any way she can. But you just can’t do this. Not tonight. Not now. 

“I’m alright, I guess.” You shrug, and you can feel how forced your smile is but you persist. “It’s really nice to meet you but I really need to get going. Jake?” You turn to him, doing your best to ignore the tears that are beginning to brim in your eyes. “Have you seen Josh? I told him I wouldn’t leave without telling him and his partner goodbye.” 

He shakes his head no, crossing his arms over his chest in a way that can only be described as defensive and uncomfortable. 

“Sorry, I haven’t. I’ll keep an eye out for him, though.” 

“That’s alright. I’ll just shoot him a text later. Congrats on a successful night,” you say, nodding to the tech, Danny, and then to Jake before turning to Lindsey, “and it was really nice to meet you. I’m sorry I’ve gotta run.”

“That’s okay. I hope you have a good night.” She offers, eyes still watching you in concern. Somehow, her kindness makes this whole thing worse. 

You turn away from the group and, as if in a dream, you make your way to the exit of the bar. 

With no Josh in sight, you pull your phone from your pocket and call an Uber to take you back to the hotel where you’ll pack up your bags for the last time. This time tomorrow, you’ll be in your own bed away from all the madness. You wish the thought gave you more comfort. 

//////

Three weeks pass agonizingly slowly. After being on tour for so long, the sudden change in tempo to your normally fast paced life leaves you floating through your days as if in a dream. Where once it seemed as though you barely had time to even sit down and think, now you have too much time to do exactly that. There’s only so many good shows that you missed and there’s only so many useless outings to be had before you find yourself going stir crazy. Distraction-less, your thoughts swirl hopelessly around Jake and your bitter, self-hating disappointment. 

You think fondly about the first time you met. You think of your flirting and of the soft moments the two of you shared before it all went to hell. You even think of that damn bar bathroom; you think of the passion and the hope that had bloomed in you that night, and of the crushing disappointment and hurt that soon followed. And inevitably, your thoughts always seem to circle back to that last night, when you finally mustered up the courage to say something, only for the universe to seemingly throw it back in your face with a laugh and a middle finger. And the very worst part of it all had been Lindsey’s obvious kindness and concern towards you, despite having only just met. You hate that you can understand why he chose her. 

Those thoughts feel particularly loud tonight as you stare down at an invitation to a group dinner from Josh. He, along with Sam and Danny, had texted you here and there – little things about what was going on in their lives since you last had seen them. But this was the first time that you had been asked to go out with them. 

You’re torn. Torn between the desire to see all of your friends again and wanting to avoid having to see Jake (and even worse, Lindsey) if you didn’t absolutely have to. But, deciding to put your big girl pants on, you accepted, texting Josh a simple Sure :)  

He responded almost immediately, eagerly letting you know how excited he was to see you. 

And here you find yourself, nervously adjusting your top for the millionth time that night as you drive to the bar that Josh had told you about. Despite everything, you couldn’t help but to think about Jake as you had gotten dressed. You feel silly for still allowing yourself to be so hung up on him. You shake your head at yourself, almost in the hopes that the thoughts will slip from your mind at the action. Despite everything, you’re determined to have a good time tonight. 

You’ve never been to this bar before, nestled away just a few blocks from Broadway on the East side of Nashville. It’s a nice place, but not so fancy that it comes across as too uptight or uncomfortable. Walking through the doors, you see that there’s a bar off to the right, with a few larger tables scattered across the floor to your left, and some pool tables and a dart board tucked away in the back. It seems laid back and comfortable – just the kind of place the boys like to frequent. Sam and Danny are already at a table, excitedly beckoning you over. 

“Sunflower!” Danny calls, standing from his seat and opening his arms wide. 

You jog over to him, grinning from ear to ear as you allow him to engulf you in a hug. 

“I missed you.” He tells you sweetly, squeezing you a little tighter. 

“I missed you too, Dan. Especially your hugs.” 

“Quit hogging her!” Sam interrupts, gripping your wrists in his long fingers and pulling you from Danny and into himself. 

Giggling, you hug him too. 

“And I missed you.” You pull away from him, casting your eyes between the two of them. “I missed all of you guys. Speaking of… where’s tweedle dee and tweedle dum?” 

The three of you sit, Danny pulling your chair out for you like the gentleman that he is. 

“Josh is running late, as usual.” Sam supplies with an eye roll, “And I think Jake and Lindsey should be here soon. He said they were on their way a while ago.” 

It feels like someone just dumped a bucket of ice water on you but you keep your expression smooth. Of course he would be bringing Lindsey tonight… Why wouldn’t he?

Unfortunately for you, they do arrive soon, and seeing Jake again feels like a punch in the gut. He’s wearing a pair of dark jeans coupled with a white button up, and his signature necklace glitters against his chest. He looks stunning, and Lindsey’s beauty only stands out more in the beautiful sundress that she has on.

“There you two are!” Sammy says loudly, and Jake inclines his head. 

“Ladies,” he nods at you and Sam, “and Danny, good to see you.” 

Sam scowls as Jake and Danny share a laugh. 

“Y/n! It’s good to see you again.” Lindsey says with a smile, taking a seat in the chair directly to your right. You push back the annoyance, reminding yourself that it’s not her fault that Jake doesn’t feel the same towards you. 

The table descends into easy conversation, though you find yourself having a difficult time keeping up. You smile and nod at what you hope is the correct times, but your thoughts are a thousand miles away. All you can think about is that night in that damn bar bathroom, and how good it had felt in the moment. You think about that night more often than you’d ever care to admit, but the memory is soured anyway by what followed. You can still see Jake’s face, passive and expressionless, as he shattered your heart in two. 

And of course, you think of the last show, when you’d allowed Josh to convince you that Jake felt the same. God, you’ll never forget seeing him lean over to kiss Lindsey’s cheek, her arm wrapped around his waist just like yours had been that night at the bar. You wish, suddenly, that you’d ordered alcohol instead of water. 

“Right, Sunflower?” 

The question snaps you from your racing thoughts and you look up to see everyone at the table looking at you. Your cheeks flush as you wrack your brains to try and recall what they’d been talking about but you come up empty. You open your mouth to spew some bullshit excuse when you hear the door to the restaurant bust open obnoxiously. 

“The party has arrived!” Josh bellows, drawing the attention of just about everyone in the building, and – thankfully, the attention of everyone at your table. You slink down further in your seat, suddenly feeling like you’ve run a marathon. 

Josh and his partner take a seat to your left, and their presence instantly soothes you in a way you can hardly explain. 

“What the hell are you two always doing that makes you so late to everything?” Sam asks him, taking a sip of his drink and quirking his brow. 

“You don’t want to know, brother mine.” Josh says with a lewd grin, causing the entire table to erupt in groans of disgust. You laugh softly and Josh’s partner gives you a wink. 

Conversations pick up again amongst everyone, though you mostly only speak to Josh’s partner, the two of you scooting backwards in your chairs to speak around Josh – who’s leaning forward as he tells an animated story about something or other, hands flapping about wildly. 

“Does he ever run out of things to say?” You stage whisper at his partner, who guffaws loudly and assures you that no, Josh does not, in fact, ever run out of things to say. 

“You should see him when we go to the store!” He tells you, eyes twinkling with affection, “He talks to just about everyone in the fucking Publix. I have to drag him out – for my sake and for theirs.” 

“What does he even talk to them about?” You ask through a laugh. 

“I don’t know. He talks a lot but says very little, most of the time.” 

At that, Josh leans back into his chair and turns his head back and forth between the two of you, eyes narrowed and a mocking frown on his face. 

“Are you two talking about me?” 

“Never!” You tell him seriously, giving your best poker face. 

“Absolutely not. I love you just the way you are, babe.” His partner assures him, and you know that he’s not kidding in the slightest. They’re annoyingly perfect for each other. 

Josh looks on in suspicion as you and his partner lock eyes, both fighting to hold back your laughter and Josh raises an eyebrow at the two of you. You just shrug your shoulders and smile, while his partner smiles into his drink – the both of you completely unable to meet Josh’s eyes for fear of breaking out into giggles. 

“Sure. Whatever, Very convincing.” Josh mutters, shaking his head and fighting a smile of his own. “Anyways, tell us what you’ve been up to, Sunflower.” 

You feel warmth overtake your cheeks as everyone’s eyes turn to you and you wish the floor would open up and swallow you whole as Jake’s gaze finally lands on you as well. For the life of you, you can’t get a read on him – a fact that hurts you beyond measure. 

“Oh, not much, to be completely honest.” You tell them, shrugging your shoulders. “Not much to do around here when I’m not dealing with you guys’ craziness.” 

“Nothing?” Danny asks in disbelief, “No family or friends you’ve been hanging out with?”

“You guys are the only friends I have here in Nash.” You glance down at your lap. “Just been me, myself, and I.” 

Josh, in typical Josh fashion, changes the subject upon noticing your discomfort – and you promptly excuse yourself to the ladies’ room. Rising from your seat, you scamper quickly away from the table. 

You splash cold water on your face and smooth down a few fly-away hairs. Gazing in the mirror, you smile at yourself. Even you can see that it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. 

You jump as the door to the bathroom opens, eyes widening as you see Lindsey entering. You fight back a frown. She’s the last person you want to see. 

“Hey.” She says simply, coming to stand beside you in front of the mirror, 

“Hi.” 

“Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine.” You tell her, and wince at the harshness of your tone. “Thank you for asking though.” You add, softer this time. 

“You and I both know that’s not true.” She says kindly, giving you a soft smile in the mirror. “I know we don’t really know each other, but… I’m here, if there’s something you want to talk about. I’m good at listening.” 

You sigh, heart warming just a little at her obvious kindness and sincerity. You don’t know whether it’s better or worse that she’s a good person – it would be easier to dislike her if she wasn’t. But it’s also easier to accept Jake choosing her over you knowing that she’s a genuine person. Deciding to go out on a limb, you choose your next words carefully – keeping them truthful, but vague. 

“Just guy trouble. It’s stupid, really. I don’t know why I’m letting it affect me like this.”

“A breakup?” 

“Not necessarily…” You scratch the back of your neck, nerves beginning to show themselves again. “We, um- we slept together. Once. And I really liked him. But he said it was a mistake and we haven’t really spoken since.”

“Did you,” she speaks slowly – delicately, even. “Did you know him well? Before?”

“Yeah. He was always so sweet. Flirty, but not obnoxiously so. I really thought something was there. Something… real.”

“Mmm.” She hummed, looking in the mirror to smooth her own hair down. “And you haven’t spoken to him since?”

“Not in a way that matters. Not about what happened.”

“Maybe you should try.” She says, tilting her head at you. “You never know unless you try.”

You duck your head, fighting the tears that begin to burn behind your eyes. 

“He’s with someone else now. And they seem to be happy. I don’t want to cause trouble where it’s not necessary. I just need to…” you trail off for a moment, staring at your reflection hopelessly. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.” 

“You love him, then?”

Her question makes you freeze for a moment. Do you love him? You hadn’t really wanted to put a direct name to how you feel about Jake. But standing here, crying over him to the girl he chose over you, you figure you’ve hit rock bottom already anyway. 

“Yeah, I do.” Your admission comes out quiet – broken in such a way that you almost don’t even recognize it. 

“I’m sorry.” She says, her gaze dropping down onto the counter, staring at the little puddles of water. “I wish I could say something to help, but I know there’s nothing to say. It just fucking sucks, feeling like that.” 

You nod, sniffling a little and wiping your eyes with the back of your hand.

“And you know what the worst part of it all is?” 

She just shakes her head, allowing you to continue. 

“The girl he’s with now… I get it. I totally get why he chose her.” You let out a watery laugh and you see Lindsey’s eyes fill with her own tears as she watches you fall apart. “I would have chosen her, too.” 

You blink and suddenly you’re being hugged. You’re stunned for just a moment before you hesitantly wrap your arms around her loosely. 

“I’m sorry, Y/n.” She says, pulling away from you and placing her hands on your shoulders, willing you to meet her gaze. “You’ll find the one. I know you will.” 

“Thank you.” You sniffle again and laugh quietly, “God, this is so embarrassing.” 

“Don’t be embarrassed.” She says kindly, dropping her hands and smiling. “Sometimes you just need another girl to listen. I love the guys – and they’re more sensitive and understanding than most, but they don’t get stuff like this like we do.” 

You nod at her, taking a deep breath to gather yourself. 

“Ready to go back out?” 

“Yeah.” You say, and you follow behind her as the two of you make your way back out to the table. 

The rest of the night passes by in a blur. After your return from the bathroom, you don’t allow your thoughts to prevent you from enjoying time with your friends. They really are all you have and you’ve missed them terribly. You catch eyes with Lindsey every now and again, and she always gives you an encouraging smile as she watches you engage, and little sparks of affection and thankfulness for her warm your chest. It really isn’t her fault. 

After you’ve all eaten, and the alcohol begins to take more affect, Sam suddenly rises from his seat and slams his palms against the table (effectively causing all the plates to rattle obnoxiously)

“Daniel!” He says, pointing a finger at poor Danny who looks back at him with wide eyes. “I challenge you to a game of pool right this instant. I’m tired of sitting.”

Danny rolls his eyes playfully and stands, rubbing his palms on his jeans. 

“Don’t start something you know you can’t win.” Danny tells him with a grin. 

“40 bucks says I beat you.” 

The rest of you watch on in amusement as the two bicker all the way over to the pool tables. 

“Jake?” Josh asks, turning to his twin, “Wanna play?” 

“Fuck ya.” Jake responds, also rising from his place. “Ready to beat your ass.”

“In your dreams, Jakey.”

“Don’t call me that.” Jake says petulantly, brushing past Josh with a deliberate nudge against his shoulder. 

You, Josh’s partner, and Lindsey follow the boys over to the tables, laughing at their antics. Everyone is sporting a buzz now and you’re well on your way to getting your own little buzz. You figure you deserve it.

You watch on in amusement as the boys allow themselves to let loose – you love watching them like this. They’re like little kids, giggling and messing with each other as they play pool. 

“I haven’t seen them all together like this.” Lindsey tells you from her seat next to you. “They’re like…” 

“Children?” You supply, giggling softly. “They’re always like this. Even during a tour.” 

The both of you laugh loudly as Josh sinks a ball, exclaiming loudly in triumph before Jake interrupts his celebration to let him know that he hit one of Jake’s into the pocket and not his own. Josh lets out a particularly petulant “Fuck!” and Jake tosses his head back and laughs. 

You watch him, completely unable to pull your eyes away from him. He looks… transcendent like that, joy and laughter making his eyes crinkle at the corners in the way that always makes your heart melt. A pang shoots through your chest as memories of when he used to laugh with you like that enter your thoughts unbidden. You shake your head at yourself, tearing your gaze away from him to look at Lindsey – only to find her already looking at you. 

You can’t quite read her expression – but there’s puzzlement in her eyes. You look away, unwilling to answer (or even acknowledge) her silent question. 

Before long, the boys are far too drunk to be allowed out in public any longer, and Josh’s partner begins making the rounds to let them know that it’s time to go. He’s met with grumblings of disappointment but the boys don’t protest as you all begin to make your way outside. 

“Well, Sunflower,” Danny says, smiling widely with flushed cheeks as he looks at you, “I guess we won’t see you again until tour starts again.” He extends his strong arms, waiting to give you a goodbye hug. You fall into him, letting your eyes fall closed as he squeezes you. 

“You give the best hugs, Danny.” 

“So you keep telling me.” He grins, pulling away as Josh’s partner ducks in to hug you as well. 

“Me next!” Sam exclaims loudly, yanking you from his grip to pull you into his lanky arms. 

“Bye, Sammy.” You giggle. “Till next time.” 

You pull away to see Josh waiting patiently for his turn. 

“See you soon, Sunflower.” He says, pulling you flush against him. Just as you go to pull away, he pulls you in tighter and leans in close. 

“I’m so sorry.” He whispers, just loud enough for you to hear. You blink away the tears that want to fall at his words.

Lastly, Jake stands, hands awkwardly in his pockets as he waits. You’re not sure what to do until he opens his arms for you. Hesitantly, you wrap your arms around his waist, breathing in his scent as it envelopes you. 

He leans in close – so close that his lips are almost touching your ear. 

“See you later, Sunflower.” 

“Bye, Jake.” You say quietly. 

He squeezes you tighter, letting the embrace last for just a moment too long. 

Pulling away, you catch Lindsey’s eyes, and for the first time tonight, she doesn’t return the smile that you give her. 

You trudge your way back to your car, suddenly wishing that you hadn’t gone tonight. And even more, you wish – desperately, that you didn’t have to see him again at all.  

Climbing into your car, you allow yourself to put on your sad song playlist and wallow in your misery the entire way home, before collapsing heavily into your bed – the call of sleep pulling you under. 

///////

Jake K        1:02 AM

I think we should talk

The text is the very last thing you want to wake up to – especially with the pounding in your head and the feeling of nausea that threatens to overtake you. You hadn’t had much to drink the night before but you have a feeling that it’s not the alcohol making you feel this way. You stare at it for a long while, thoughts racing through your fuzzy brain as you try and figure out how to respond. 

You knew you shouldn’t have been honest with Lindsey – no matter how kind she is. Of course she would have caught on after seeing your inability to fix your face when you watch Jake and of course she would tell him what had happened in the bathroom. 

And now he’s probably upset with you. Maybe he’s angry that you’ve kept your feelings from him and fucked him in a bar bathroom like it didn’t mean anything. Maybe he’s going to fire you. Maybe Lindsey wants him to fire you. Your mind races with every worst possible scenario as you shakily type out your response. 

You 10:17 AM 

Is everything okay? 

The speed with which he answers tells you everything that you need to know.

Jake K 10:19 AM 

Can you call? 

You 10:19 AM

Yes. Whenever you get a chance.

Not a second later, his name lights up across your screen with an incoming call. Heart pounding, you can only stare at it. You haven’t had time to think. To plan out how you’re supposed to just act like everything is okay. With a heavy sigh, you accept that it’s too late for that and you swipe to accept the call. 

“Hey.”

“Hey, Y/n.” 

Your actual name… hardly a good sign but you will the nerves and fear from your voice the best you can. 

“Is everything okay?”

A heavy, pregnant pause. Then finally, 

“Lindsey and I talked last night. She um. She knows. About- About us.”

 You close your eyes tight, heart hammering.

“Fuck.” The word escapes you with a sigh, tears already beginning to burn in the back of your throat. “I swear I didn’t tell her, Jake. I swear it. I just-”

“I know.” He interrupts. “She explained. I um.”

You can hear him swallow and you can picture what he must look like on the other end – eyebrows pinched, maybe playing with the chain of his necklace like he does when he’s nervous or stressed. You shake your head as if it’ll clear the image from your mind. 

“Jake, I’m sorry.” 

He sighs – heavy and defeated. 

“Don’t apologize. I- I’m sorry that I hurt you like that. I didn’t- I didn’t mean to.”

“I know you didn’t.”

Silence again, both of you just listening to the others breathing. 

“I think it might be best if- if maybe you all find someone else for makeup.”

“No.” He starts, the word louder than any of the others that he’s spoken before. “You can't just walk away. You can't leave. ”

“But I think it would be best if I did.”

This time, you can practically hear him trying to come up with something to say in the silence. But you know there isn’t really much else to say.

“You’re our friend.” He finally says, voice just barely above a whisper. 

That makes you pause as you think of the others – of Josh and his soft, reassuring smiles. Of his partner and the inside jokes the two of you share. Of Sammy and his ridiculous jokes and of Danny’s hugs. You think of all the other tech people – the ones who had taken you in and treated you like family from the very start. All the people that you’re willingly walking away from... and most of them will never even know why.

It kills you. The ache in your chest is a real, breathing thing as the reality of it all sets in. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Y/n, don’t-”

You end the call. 

End of Part I

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

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[lilies-n-slander]

just my unstructured thoughts on “complicated and sad”

I’m not huge on radiostatic and haven’t thought about the dynamic as much as other people so probably I’ll be retreading common ground

radiostatic friendship had to have broken up for smth more ideological, it would honestly be a bit boring/disappointing if it was just over the unrequited romance aspect (but it was likely a contributing factor)

the fact that vox asked alastor to join his team gives a few clues

I think atp vox still thought positively of alastor while alastor’s opinion of vox was starting to deteriorate. Vox respected alastor enough to *ask* him to join, rather than manipulate or try to force him

if that’s the case, then whatever vox did that alastor hated likely wasn’t malicious (but knowing vox, it was still a bad/harmful thing)

it seems like the kind of situation where alastor showed discomfort and vox refused to change and didn’t understand what he was so mad about

what could vox have done that alastor disliked so much that it ruined a previously good friendship?

using people? Alastor does that

owning souls? Alastor does that

killing people? Alastor does that

associating with and enabling ppl like val? Maybe? It seems like an arbitrary line to draw, altho one of the comics shows alastor killing an attempted rapist

influencing people’s perception of them through media? Alastor does that, but maybe it was the difference of method that he didn’t like (hypnosis vs charisma)

being fake? Alastor does that but is better at it than vox (smiling to hide weakness)

being weak*? (*not just physically) Now we’re talking. Alastor hates weakness, both in other people and himself. He hates when people let their composure slip and tries to exploit any weakness he sees. Maybe it disgusted him to see someone he thought was strong actually prove to be weak, insecure, and pathetic

a combination of the last three seems the most plausible to me (especially considering what things alastor disses vox for in stayed gone), but I’m still struggling to come up with something that has the right amount of “oomph” to it

I’m curious what alastor initially liked about vox in the first place?

did he only like him bc he thought vox was stronger than he actually was?

has vox just changed so much over the years that the vox alastor formed a friendship with was basically a different person? That would make me curious about what sparked that change in vox—was it a particular incident or gradual corruption?

does alastor hate modernity because of vox or does he hate vox because of his modernity?

leaning twds the former, the way alastor speaks abt tech has a personal tinge to it

most of vox’s hostility twds alastor is prob due to what alastor did as rejection

supported by vox not having much variety of his insults in stayed gone

yes he’s pathetic and might be salty that he doesn’t return his feelings, but I feel like that’s not the whole explanation

does “I thought he was gone *for good* too” imply that alastor has previously disappeared or been shooed away by the vees and came back soon after?

“he owes us a lot more than money” + “things have changed a lot since he left town… …I gotta send a message of who’s really in charge of things now” = before he disappeared, alastor was previously in control, possibly by sabotaging the vees and overthrowing them?

I didn’t rlly mention “still pissed he almost beat you that time?” bc that had to have been after the fallout, so not as much to dig into there (this isn’t to say that I don’t desperately want a flashback of it lol)

hmmmmmmmnfgh… so many questions

I really hope their backstory has already been mostly planned out, bc it seems like something that would go poorly if you just made it up on the fly