#like just save us all the pain buddy

[lordgolden]

Fitz trying to leave the Fool behind AGAIN as if that has EVER worked out for him like bro you know he’s going to follow you 😭 he literally awoke Girl-on-a-Dragon last time you think he won’t pull some deranged shit blind or not???? Give it up!!!!!!

[rosewine-5]

Baby Come Over

Wolverine/Logan Howlett x black fem reader

gif made by blursbian

Summary: Wade is hellbent of getting you to meet his new roommate, but what is his motive? (Note: I am not the best writer, but I had motivation, and the title is definitely not taken from Virgo’s Groove)

Warning: drunken asshole, Wade Wilson, cursing, unprotected piv smut (wrap it before you tap it) fingering, riding, soft!dom Logan MDNI 18+

Word Count: 4.2

-

Wade encouraged you to meet the new man in his life, not knowing if it was a new friend, a boyfriend, or someone he wanted to pursue romantically. Knowing him, it was probably both, but you agreed anyway. "Come on, sugar. I'm a vigilante, you're a fine-as-wine vigilante, and he's an old but good-looking mutant who needs some TLC— he'll love you immediately," Wade insisted, bringing it up again as you two talked over a late dinner while sitting on his couch.

Wade, I have to work all next week," you said, trying to get out of it. "Yeah, bartending is so hard. When was the last time you got laid? The pink vibrator doesn't count," he added for extra measure, almost making you slap him. "None of your business. Besides, I don't ask about your business even though we, unfortunately, share a wall. And why did you go through my drawer?!”

“My point being said, he needs friends, you need a new one, and if you won’t be with him I will! And besides, I'm Marvel Jesus, there's nothing I can’t do!” Wade insisted, emphasizing his statement with his hands and ignoring your question.

You knew better than to argue with him because he could go on for hours, so you agreed. You had pulled your braids into a ponytail and walked next door, where you saw the small get-together Wade had arranged. “Sweetie! You made it!” he cheered, answering the door, and dragging you in. He put you in front of him as he walked you to the back of the apartment, where Logan wasn’t facing you.

“He’s a bit grumpy today, but I’ll talk to him. Hey, three-pronged wolf!” Wade said, trying to get his attention.

He got it all right.

Before you could even introduce yourself you felt something pierce your arm, three things. You were met with the face of a man who looked like he was ready to knock someone out, it was Logan. His face quickly changed when he realized he hadn’t stabbed Wade, and immediately tried to cover the wound he made. “Ah, shit!” He cursed, looking you in the eyes.

“Now this is not how we greet potential lovers, gramps! Shame on you.” Wade scolded playfully, looking between you and Logan. “Well that’s a good icebreaker, or skin breaker I should say.” He said, looking at your already healing skin.

“Well, Logan, this is my best friend, she heals like us, curses like me. Sugar, this is Logan, the old good-looking man you should kiss for helping save the timeline. Do not fuck on my bed, and I don’t babysit.” He said, patting your cheek before walking away. You watched him leave and then leaned on the wall.

“Hell of an introduction, neighbor,” You said, trying to start a conversation. He didn’t respond but kept looking over your features as you did the same. Wade hit one thing on the mark: He was fine as hell. “How long have you known him?” Logan asked. “Ehhh, a couple of months, he’s good people, but he can be annoying as fuck some.” You said, that you two agreed.

It turns out that you both had something in common, besides the healing factor. Both of you were no strangers to drinks, and pain was a familiar feeling for both of you.

And that was how the foundation of the friendship was built. You didn’t talk much, mostly just passing each other in the hallway, a short greeting when you left for work and coming back home. That was until he found the bar you worked in. It was 5 minutes before closing, and you heard the man sit down. “What’ll it be buddy?” You asked, still wiping down the table with your back towards him.

“Whatever’s left.” Logan’s voice said, cutting through the faint sound of Sade’s voice coming through the jukebox. Your head snapped around at the familiar tone of the voice. “Wade mentioned you worked in a bar, been wondering which one it was,” Logan said, sitting down at the bar. “You didn’t think to look at the closest bar which is only a 15-minute walk from here?” You asked, leaning on the bar, a laugh leaving your lips.

He reached over, grabbed a bottle of beer, and shrugged, “Good point.” He said while taking a drink, a long one. “Let me guess. Roommate annoyance?” You asked, seeing him set down the bottle, and bringing him another one. “Yep. He made me leave the place today.” Logan explained. “Any reason for him kicking you out?” You joked, meeting his ever-so-serious eyes.

“He said either I try and make friends, or he walks around naked until I leave.” He said, almost making you cringe, “No one wants to see that.” Logan let out a short hum, before downing the beer before putting it down. As

You reached for the bottle your hand brushed his, and your eyes met in an awkward look. “Sorry-.” “My bad.” You both said at the same time. Logan then held your hand, moving it completely taking it off the bottle, and set it down behind the bar for you with his other hand.

“There. Less confusion.” He said, sitting back down. You nodded and looked at your still joined hands, noticing how his completely covered yours. You allowed yourself one more look before slowly sliding it out of his hands. As you finished cleaning up and locking up the bar, Logan stayed. As you walked back to the apartments, he walked beside you, in total silence, and both of you did.

That’s how it continued for almost a whopping 2 months. He’d show up for the last call, talk until closing, and walk you home in silence.

Until one night Logan walked in 1 hour earlier than his normal time. “You’re here early.” You pointed out, looking at the clock above the door. “Well, Wade mentioned something about you hating thunderstorms, thought you might want a familiar face around.” You never froze so fast in your life. “Oh? He told you that?” You asked, passing him a beer, Logan nodding in response.

“What if I told you he lied?” You asked, seeing him stop mid-drink to look at you, eyes with confusion. “I’m gonna strangle him,” Logan said. “He’d probably like it,” then you thought for a moment, “No, he’d love that.” He dropped the beer just in time for you to see a chuckle leave his lips with the taste of a smile, and your heart jumped. You already found him attractive, but that smile could’ve made an entire country swoon and sigh.

You looked away just in time for him to not catch you staring. “So, what do you do other than work?” Logan asked. “Vigilantism.” You replied, holding up another beer, switching up his empty bottle for a new cold one. “What did you do in your universe?” You asked. “Was a part of a team, had a suit and everything,” Logan explained. “Did they have abilities like you?” You asked, cleaning up some glasses while he talked. “Better. Way better than these claws in my skin.” He said, looking down at the counter harder than he should've.

You heard a little bit of how he was “the worst Wolverine” from Wade, and given how he was acting right now, he might have told the truth. “You remind me of one of them too. You don't look like her, but your mannerism reminds me of her.” Logan added. You took a chance and put a hand over his, “I won't pry, but if you ever want to talk, let me know.” He looked up at you with a greatful gaze, nodding his head and letting his hand hold yours.

You then looked at the clock and took your hand away from his “Closing time. Imma lock up real quick.” You said, wiping down the tables. As you were about to lock up, one man stumbled in. “We’re closed man. Go home.” You yelled. “One beer, sweetheart, it’s all I ask.” The random drunk asked, now grabbing onto your sleeve. “Were closed. Let go.” You said in a harsher tone. Trying to get your sleeve free.

“Come on sugar, just one drink.” He asked, eyes looking you up and down. “Dude. Let go!” You yelled, now trying to get his hand off you, but he had a strong grip on your wrist. Before he could respond Logan grabbed his arm, freeing you and walking him out. “Hey man what are you-.” Before he could finish Logan put his claws under the man’s neck. “The lady asked you 3 times to leave. I’m giving you 3 seconds to bounce before these find a home in your neck.”

The man stumbled back before slipping out the door. “You alright?” He asked, looking at your torn sleeve. “I’m alright.” You sighed, putting your jacket on. He walked next to you that night, almost arm and arm with you while you both made small talk. “I could’ve handled that asshole you know?” You asked him, bringing up the drunken man again. “I know, just wanted to do it.” He said, lighting a cigar, smirking, making you chuckle. “There she is.” He said, looking down at you. “What there? You asked, now across the street from the apartment. “That smile.” He said, still smoking the cigar.

As you opened the door to the building, you missed the faint blush on his cheeks. But you didn’t miss that look in his eyes and the way he looked over your body. But as he tried to open the door to his shared apartment, it was locked. “Are you fucking serious?” Logan said, now banging on the door. “Wade! Open the door!” he yelled.

Wade locked me out, and he’s not waking up.” He said, looking over at you. “I’ll try and call him.” You said, pulling out your phone and trying to call him, only for it to go straight to voicemail. “This son of a bitch.” you sighed, and put your phone away. You could tell what Logan was about to ask, so you beat him to it.

“I got a couch,” you said, unlocking your door. “I don't want to-.” “Logan, come over,” you interrupted, moving. so he could get in. You could tell he wanted to protest, but he knew he didn’t have a choice or another place to sleep. He gave the space a once-over and nodded. “Nice place,” Logan said.“I'm gonna take a quick shower, and I’ll be right out,” You said, he nodded in acknowledgment.

You turned on your heel, went down the hallway, and hopped in the bathroom. After 15 minutes you put on an oversized shirt and sleep short and walked to your close. You grabbed an extra pillow and top sheet for him.

“Here I got-.” Before you could finish you saw Logan with his shirt off looking you up and down. It was then you remembered you had gotten out of the shower, only wearing an oversized shirt and your shorts, that barely covered your thighs.

You saw his eyes staring at your legs, and then back up at you. His eyes were hungry with desire, and it was safe to say yours were too. His and was clenching and unclenching by his side. “Honey,” he breathed, “go to bed before I make a mistake.” You didn’t move, you didn’t dare. You moved closer, setting the blanket and pillow on the couch, your eyes never leaving his. “Please, walk away,” Logan said, licking his lips. “Why? When we both want the same thing?” You asked.

You swear you saw his breathing stop.

That was all he needed. He surged forward, claiming your lips with his. You could still taste the beer on his lips. His hand found your waist and then your thighs, lifting you, and groaned, looking up at you with a wolfish grin. Before he could say anything, you kissed him, your nails running through his hair as your tongue fought for control against his. His hands mapped out your skin, going over every contour and gripping your ass as he rolled his hips into yours.

A shiver ran through your veins, your thin shorts doing little to hide how much you wanted him, and he knew it. “Already? We’ve barely even started and you’re soaked?” He teased, one of his hands leaving your hips and dipping under the fabric. His fingers ran over your folds, his lips forming into a smirk as he sucked another mark into your neck. A soft moan left your lips as you felt two of his fingers dip into your cunt, “Oh fuck.”

“That’s it, honey, let me hear you,” Logan whispered. You let out a loud moan when his fingers hit your G-spot, your nails digging into his skin, emitting a groan from his lips. “Sorry.” You whispered, looking at him, only to see a feral smile on his lips. “You have no idea how much I loved that.” Logan groaned, his fingers working another finger in, making you bite down on his shoulder to muffle your moans.

“I wish you would.” He grunted, grabbed a handful of your braids, and pulled your head back, assaulting your neck with bites and kisses. “Logan!” You squealed, feeling his thumb find your clit. “Cum for me baby, let me hear it,” Logan whispered. Your hands made crescent marks on his back as you came undone, feeling his lips soothe you down from your climax.

You felt his fingers slowly come to a halt before Logan pulled his fingers out of you, his other hand letting go of your braids. “Still there, honey?” He asked, peppering kisses across your neck. You couldn’t even speak, your brain was still fogged from the orgasm you just went through. “Holy shit,” You breathed out. You finally cracked your eyes open, meeting Logan’s hungry eyes and seeing his fingers disappear in his mouth.

His tongue swirled around his digits, his eyes trained on yours. “Taste like heaven.” He said, licking his lips before claiming your lips in another kiss. You snapped out of the trance you were in as the taste of your juices hit your tongue.

You need him. You needed him now.

Your hand went to his pants, slipping under his jeans and finding his cock. He was rock-hard. He shuddered under your touch, a deep moan leaving his lips. Logan helped you get his jeans on the floor, his cock springing free and hitting his chest. “Goddamn. Someone’s blessed.” You whispered. “Is that someone you?” Logan asked, his hands slipping under the waistband of your underwear.

“Hold still for me baby,” he sighed and your arms framed his shoulders. You heard his claws come out and slice your bottoms off. “Someone’s done that before.” You teased, watching as his hand threw the fabric on the floor. Logan didn’t respond as he started to pick you up, but you held him firmly on the couch. “Nope, stay right there.” You breathed you, stroking his cock a few times.

He watched your hand pump him before positioning yourself above him. Logan’s eyes were trained on your pussy as you eased onto him. As you finally bottomed out, Logan let out a loud moan, and it almost made you cum on the spot. “Goddamn, you trying to kill me?” He asked, his hands going back to your hips. You didn’t respond as you started to move up and down, riding his cock.

Logan did little to stop the moans that were leaving his lips. “Fuck, honey. You’re squeezing me like a goddamn vice,” Logan sighed, letting you set the pace. You kissed his neck and sucked marks into his neck, not giving a damn that they wouldn’t be there tomorrow. As you bit one spot closer to his collarbone, he let out a whine. You focused on that spot and bounced on his cock a little faster.

He suddenly gripped your hips as a broken moan left his lips, “Fuck, wait.” He sighed, holding you still on his cock. “Why’d you make me stop?” You asked, looking at his screwed-shut eyes. Logan suddenly grabbed you and picked you up, still keeping you on his cock. “Which one is your room?” He asked. “Down the hall to the left,” You said. Logan walked down the hallway and you thanked god you left the door open.

He laid you and climbed over you, kneeling on the bed and pulling you closer, his cock moving between your thighs to rest on top of your belly button. You leaned up and rested on your forearms, and looked back down at his cock. “To answer your question from earlier,” Logan said, leaning down and tilting your chin up to look at him, “I stopped you because there’s more room on a bed than a couch.”

He looked down at you and licked his lips before catching your lips in a passionate kiss. Your hand cupped his cheek as you returned it, your tongue finding its way into his mouth.

You were so caught up in his kisses you didn’t register the head of his cock tapping your clit until you felt it slam into you, a scream falling out of your lips. Logan laid you back in your sheets and let his hand that wasn’t holding your thigh trail in between your chest and down your stomach as he fucked you. “Keep those eyes open for me, ya hear?” He asked, you nodding in response.

He didn’t waste a second after. Logan’s cock began to thrust in and out of you, sliding almost all the way out of you to only slam back in, emitting a moan from you every time. You writhed under him, looking up at his wild and feral expression. His mouth was open, looking down at your fucked out one, moaning loudly as you held the pillow behind you.

You could hear the sound of your headboard hitting the wall, the grunts coming out of his mouth, and you didn’t give a damn if anyone heard. All you cared about was the amount of pleasure he was giving you. As he hit that one spot that cut your breath off, you bit the pillow and screwed your eyes shut.

Immediately you felt Logan stop and he grabbed your wrist with one hand and pinned it beside your head, his own hovering over yours. “I said eyes open, darling. And don’t even think of hiding those pretty fucking moans from me.” He whispered. He then dropped his hand from your thigh and put it over his.

He now used one hand to wipe the sweat off your forehead, “You still here honey?” He asked, you nodded in response and opened your eyes. Logan was grinning down at you, taking in your tired face, “There’s my girl.” He softly kisses your lips before picking up his bruising pace, making you scream again, “Logan!” Your nails found their way to his back, making marks on his skin. “That’s right honey, let everyone on this goddamn floor who’s fucking you,” Logan grunted, using his free hand to hold your hip, his fingers digging into your skin.

The bed was creaking more as his thrust picked up, one of his hands starting to play with your clit. You instinctively let out a high-pitched whine and you swore he growled for a moment. “Logan, I’m gonna-, oh fuck!” You moaned, your hips bucking into his as you writhed your bed. “Yeah that’s it, let me see you come.” Logan cooed, His hand working your clit faster.

It didn’t take long for a long moan to erupt out of your mouth, your orgasm hitting you like a freight train. Your walls squeezed him like a vice as his free thumb caressed your chin. “Now that’s a sight I need to see more of.” Logan moaned with a smile on his face. You felt his hips pick up the pace and his moans getting louder as he was on the verge of his orgasm, both of his hands now holding your legs open.

“Tell me where honey,” Logan asked, looking down at you. Your legs only pulled him closer, and that was all the confirmation he needed. A sinful whimper left his lips as he spilled into you, his eyes screwing shut. Logan held himself up and let the waves of the orgasm wear off before he moved, flopping down in your bed next to you. “Goddamn.” He sighed, catching his breath.

You nodded, looking up at the ceiling. “For a 200-plus-year-old, you fuck like you’re 30.” You said, looking over at him only to meet his gaze, “I don’t hear you complaining.” Logan teased, pulling a chuckle from you. “After the two orgasms you gave me, I’d be a goddamn fool too.” You said with a laugh. A yawn soon came from your mouth as you turned on your side, “Wore you out that much?” Logan asked, leaning over and looking down at you with an amused smirk on his face.

“Yeah, and I’m, once again, not complaining,” you said, feeling yourself drifting off to sleep. That night was one of the best you ever had, followed by one of the best mornings. You awoke to the sound of someone breathing in your ear and an arm around your waist.

Logan slept in your bed last night, and you slept in his arms. As looked down, his hand was rubbing your hip through the sheets. “You’re awake?” You asked, turning around and meeting his eyes, “I’ve been up for a while.” You felt his thumb caress your cheek, a tender touch matching the emotion in his eyes. “I know this is probably a stupid to ask, given the circumstances, but would you like to grab a drink with me? Ya know, outside of work,” Logan asked.

You only leaned up and kissed his lips before pulling back and looking at him, “I’d love to.” Logan broke out into a grin that could rival the sun and returned the kiss. After a quick shower and getting dressed, you were about to make breakfast when a loud knock hit your door. “Who is it?” Logan asked, coming out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. You couldn't stop your eyes from wandering down his chest, but you refocused, “I don't know, I didn't answer it.

The person knocked harder a second time, almost startling you. Logan walked forward and opened the door, only to find no one there. You peeped out the hallway, saw Wade’s door open, and heard music coming from it. “I think I know who it was.” You recognized the song coming from inside too: Sexual Healing. As you walked in, Wade was singing along before he saw you walk in and popped a confetti cannon.

“Congratulations!” he yelled, and Blind Al popped hers as well. “I guess Christmas came early because I know you did last night,” Wade then looked over your shoulder, and nodded, “Both of you did.” Logan was standing behind you and closed the door, only in the towel. “What the hell is all of this?” Logan asked. “A small celebration for you finally getting laid. All part of my plan last night.” Wade explained. Logan immediately walked past you, “What the hell does that mean?”

“Well come on man, I knew it was bound to happen when you took more than 15 minutes to get back, you think I locked you out by accident?” Wade grinned, and it all clicked. “You knew I would let him crash?” You asked, seeing the shit-eating grin grow on his face. “Oh I knew you would let him do more than that, sugar, besides that's what you both fucked on wasn't it?”

You and Logan shared a look, confused about how we knew. “First of all, neither of you tried to be quiet, at all, especially you Donna Summer,” Wade said, pointing at you. “Two, I could hear the headboard hitting the wall thanks to tall strong big dick vintage-rine over here,” he continued. “And three, someone with claws made a little hole in the wall, and trust me, I heard it all.”

Logan’s mouth was open while you wanted the ground to swallow you whole. Wade then went to the fridge and pulled out a cake and got candles. “Happy first fuckiversary, my friends,” Wade said, putting the candle in the middle, above a gel doodle of two stick figures. One of them had boobs and was on her back with her legs in the air while the other with claws was in front of her. “Made this little doodle last night,” Wade said as he lit the candle, “go ahead, blow it, you’ll be doing a lot of that later.”

You didn't miss the wink he gave Logan as you blew out the candle. You took the cake and looked at Wade. “Thanks for the cake,” You said, hugging him, “and thanks for locking the door.” You took the cake and then left, Logan shutting the door behind him as you both went back to your apartment. “He’s never gonna let that go is he?” Logan asked, you shaking your head in response. “Nope, now go back over there and get dressed.”

He had a quick, confused look on his face. "Why?" you explained, throwing him his pants and shirt. "You made a damn hole in my wall, you're helping me fix it." "Yes, ma'am," he chuckled, walking back over to his and Wade's apartment.

You never thought you would see the day you would thank Wade for bringing you a man, but I guess Marvel Jesus works in mysterious ways.

[megalony]

Better Than Any Medal

As promised, this is finally a buddie fic. Evan Buckley x reader x Eddie Diaz. I'm sorry it's taken so long to do a Buddie fic, I hope you will all like it.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana

@shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @ml572 @jessie-lynn28 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits

Evan Buckley Masterlist

Eddie Diaz Masterlist

Summary: While at the award ceremony with Buck, Eddie and their kids, (Y/n) starts having contractions. But she tries not to tell the boys, wanting to celebrate first.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Y/n) arched her lower back, trying to relieve the pain in her spine that felt like it was snapping in three different places, all at once.

Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes and she couldn't stop them from falling down her face as her nails started to scratch against the porcelean sink. A twinge rolled through her back and her knees bent forward into the sink that she was leaning heavily against to the point she felt like she was going to break it.

One hand moved up to swipe at the sweat glistening on her skin and she took a deep breath, trying to push through the pain.

They all had a busy day today. Today was a special day and (Y/n) didn't need this pain right now. She needed to push through it and get ready so none of them were late for the station. This was going to be the first medal Evan would be awarded, and Eddie's first medal for being a firefighter and it would be the only medal Eddie would be proud of.

God knows he hadn't been happy when he got his medal for his time in the army, that was one he didn't think he deserved. But getting a medal for going against regulations and orders to go and save Bobby, that was something worth celebrating.

She tried to straighten up but once she was stood up, it felt like her stomach dropped down and tried to weigh her down to the floor.

"Mum," Violet knocked on the door, followed by a giggle that almost lifted (Y/n)'s heart. She knew all the kids were getting impatient because they were all excited to go to the station. They were just like their dads; always up for a party no matter what they were celebrating.

"I'm coming, just- hang on."

Her legs quivered when she slowly eased down to sit on the toilet so she could get dressed without falling over. She kicked the lounge set she had stole from Eddie this morning to one side. The shorts had been a little uncomfy because they didn't stretch properly over her stomach anymore, but there was very little that still fit (Y/n) these days.

She reached out for her tights and leaned forward, rolling her eyes to herself as she wriggled her feet into her tights. This was the part (Y/n) didn't like about being pregnant. Where she could barely get dressed or walk about without her stomach getting in the way or dragging her down or making her feel uncomfortable.

She stood up and leaned her hip into the sink, letting the waistband bunch just under her stomach because she couldn't be bothered to fight with them any more. She had to finish getting ready.

They didn't feel as comfy as they used to, but most things didn't anymore. (Y/n) was used to living in the boy's clothing, but she couldn't exactly do that today on a special occasion.

She had asked the boys why they couldn't have had this ceremony next month when (Y/n) would have already gone into labour. They had waited three months since the rescue mission to actually award the team, another month wouldn't have mattered. But they chose today when (Y/n) was thirty-five weeks pregnant so she would have to sit uncomfortably through the day and wear something that wasn't flattering in her current state.

Tears welled up in her eyes again when she shuffled towards the door and felt the baby start to kick. That was all she needed, for the baby to move and kick and liven up so (Y/n) would feel worse.

Her hand curled around the handle but she froze when a tightening sensation in her abdomen had her leaning forward and sent her knees buckling.

Oh no.

"Please… please, not today." She muttered defeatedly to herself as her hand moved to hold her stomach like she was trying to get the baby- or her body- to listen to her pleas.

She couldn't go into labour today. This was not the day to have their fourth kid. Not when today was supposed to be about Eddie and Evan and a day to celebrate the pair of them. (Y/n) wasn't supposed to go into labour today and take the attention off the boys or drag them all away from the party and cause a fuss.

The back pain, the sleepless night last night, the constant uncomfortableness she felt and the twinges rolling through her stomach, they were all vaguely familiar to when she had the girls. Why today? Why now? Why now, when this was supposed to be a happy day without stress or drama or any sort of problems arrising.

(Y/n) had done this twice before, she knew the signs and the feeling of going into labour and that definitely felt like a contraction.

If this was the start of labour, maybe (Y/n) could get through the whole day without much fuss or pain. Maybe she could hold off telling the boys until later this afternoon, maybe this evening if she was really lucky. That's what she would do, she would try her best to keep this under control and wait until strictly necessary to tell the boys.

She took a deep breath and straightened up, more and more convinced that she was going to have this baby today when the pain started to fade.

When she finally opened the bathroom door, Violet grinned up at her and muttered a quiet 'yay' although she leaned her head to the side when she realised her mum wasn't even dressed yet.

"Mum, papa said we're going in five minutes."

Evan was a stickler for timing. He created schedules for their days out, he prepped and got the kids up early and got breakfast ready. He was always creating routines and time guidlines to keep everyone on time, he couldn't bear to be late for anything.

"And I'll be ready, I just need my dress." (Y/n) leaned down and kissed the top of Violet's head, managing a smile when she looked at what her daughter was wearing.

A dark plum purple dress that fanned out in ruffles around her legs and a matching purple flower clip in her hair.

The six year old nodded and gave (Y/n) a hug before she wriggled past and hurried into the bathroom.

(Y/n)'s hand pressed against the wall, using it as leverage to get herself further down the hall towards the bedroom. She had only just got up and already she wanted to sit back down again. She just wanted to sit down and try to get the pains to disappear. All night she had been uncomfortable, unable to find a good position to lay in without her stomach hurting her her back aching like it had been broken. And now if contractions were happening, the uncomfortableness was going to get a lot worse.

Something soft formed on her lips when she headed into the bedroom and looked over at Eddie.

He was stood in front of the mirror, buckling up his belt and tucking his dress shirt into his high-waisted trousers that fit snugly over his hips.

It wasn't often that (Y/n) got to see either of her men in their suits, the most she got was them in their day to day uniform. Seeing Eddie stood there with the matching trousers and blazer and a tie was so strange, Eddie didn't usually dress up in suits unless it was a formal event like a wedding. For events and family gatherings he usually wore some smart trousers and a button up shirt, nothing this fancy.

But all five of them had to wear their uniforms today because this was a formal HQ event and they were having photos taken. The ceremony was technically for PR and promotional reasons, but it was still good that they were all getting recognition for what they had done.

Eddie's head turned in her direction and he quirked a brow as he looked her up and down. Stood there near the bed in her tights and her bra with most of her stomach exposed for his flooded eyes to drink in and observe.

"Are you going like that?" He danced his eyes up and down her frame while he turned away from the mirror to face her instead.

"I'm sure you'd love that, but no, I'll find a dress."

She looked in the walk-in wardrobe for a dress that would look half decent on her but not make her look like a fool or a football. Her eyes locked on a dark cherry red dress and she swiped it from the hook, smothering a groan as she clicked her spine into place, again, and dragged it over her head.

Her lips formed a frown when she pulled the dress down to her knees and it pulled a bit too low on her chest and revealed her bra.

She sucked in a deep breath and shimmied the heart neckline back up to cover her chest, but it pulled the waistband higher over her bump and made the dress ride up her thighs.

Her teeth bit down on her lower lip to stop herself from crying as she tried to rearrange the dress once again. She didn't want it too high up her thighs or too low on her chest, but there didn't seem to be any middleground.

It seemed safer to show a bit more chest and cleavage than risk her dress being too high around her thighs. She made sure her bra wasn't on show and she looked as decent as possible, but she barely made it out of the wardrobe before arms circled around her waist.

"I like that one, you look lovely." Eddie murmured, punctuating his words with a kiss against her shoulder and travelling his lips up to the side of her neck.

He slid his hands beneath her dress, raking it up so his fingers could glide across her stomach and over her tights. His words made (Y/n) smile but she didn't quite believe him. She didn't feel like she looked that nice when her tights barely stayed up, her dresses didn't look right on her anymore and even Eddie's clothes were starting to become too small for her.

"Hm, I don't think so."

"Why not?"

The genuine disappointment in Eddie's voice had (Y/n) shivering and she leaned her head back on his shoulder, pressing her forehead against his neck. She felt him lean his cheek on top of her head while his elbows pressed into her waist so his arms could squeeze her lovingly into his chest.

"If my stomach gets any bigger I'll be flashing my chest or my thighs to everyone. Nothing will fit anymore." Her hands travelled down to hold Eddie's wrists and she lifted her head from his shoulder when Eddie leaned forward into her.

He moved his pointed chin across her shoulder so he could pepper kisses across the front of her neck, feeling each shallow breath she took.

"Then I guess you'll just have to live in our gym stuff until boy gets here." He punctuated each word with a kiss up and down her neck before he lifted his chin and connected their lips.

Both Eddie and Evan's gym gear was more stretchy and loose than the rest of their clothing and his words made (Y/n) smile. When the kids weren't home she often wore the boy's shorts and a bra if the weather was warm enough and she knew if drove them both mad.

Although, if this was (Y/n) going into labour, she wouldn't have to worry about clothes not fitting anymore. This would be her last day worrying about how much her stomach was going to grow. Her shape would start changing again in the next few weeks, but at least she wasn't going to get any bigger than this.

They broke apart when they both heard Evan shouting "Are we ready?" to get all their attentions.

(Y/n) was as ready as she could be. She felt Eddie press another lasting kiss to the side of her neck before he unravelled from her frame and let her dress drop back down around her thighs.

(Y/n) pushed forward and headed out of the room, trailing her hand along the wall again when her stomach twisted and shivers ran down the back of her legs. She had a feeling once she was sat down at the station, it was going to be hard for her to get back up again.

Her eyes locked with Evan's when she headed into the hall where he was stood with all the kids. Violet was jumping up and down, waiting eagerly to go get in the car, Chris was stood with a broad smile in his suit that made him match both his dads. And Poppy was in a dark red dress similar to (Y/n)'s, with white flower petals sewn into the hem and a red scrunchie in her hair. The two year old was as eager as Evan to get going.

"Do you think I look okay?" (Y/n) glanced down at her dress before she looked up at Evan who was suddenly in front of her with wide eyes full of hunger.

"You look beautiful." His hands found her sides and he reeled her in until her stomach was pressing into his abdomen and her hands found his shoulders.

Her head tilted to one side and she watched with a quickening heartbeat as Evan's eyes clouded over. One hand reached up to drag her fingertips over the light coat of stubble on his chin, wondering if he was trying to grow it out like Eddie. Evan wasn't usually one for stubble or a beard, he liked to be clean shaven, especially since the one time he had stubble a few years ago, Violet had cried and demanded he shave and 'be papa again'. But he looked good with it today.

Her weight shifted from foot to foot but she tightened her hand on his shoulder, trying not to make a sound when her stomach twinged. It didn't feel like a contraction, but it felt like something similar. Like her body was starting to get ready for what was about to happen soon. She couldn't help the way her knees bent forward and she leaned into Evan a little.

It was enough to grab his attention and cause a frown to paint across his face. His head tilted to one side and his hands gripped her hips while his eyes raked up and down, trying not to focus on her cleavage too much so he could try and see what the problem was.

"You okay?"

"J-just a twinge… I think someone's awake." She felt Evan's hands leave her hips so he could cup her stomach instead and his lips curved into a catfish grin that morphed when he pecked her temple.

"Are we going now?" Chris swayed back and forth and banged his crutches to try and gain everyone's attention when he noticed his dad walking down the hall.

Evan's lips curved into a wide smirk when he felt a kick beneath his palm and it only brightened his already ecstatic mood. He pressed a few more butterfly kisses against her temple and cheeks, running his fingertips across her hips before he leaned back and turned to face the kids.

(Y/n) curled both her hands around Evan's bicep and leaned into him while she felt Eddie's hand on her lower back.

"Two cars or one?" Eddie mumbled and reached down to scoop Poppy up so the toddler didn't try and run once the front door was open.

They had the choice of taking both cars down to the station or one of them driving the 'bus' as the kids called it. Which was just the seven-seater they had so if they wanted to go on days out, they didn't have to take two separate cars and split up.

"I'll drive the bus, come on let's hop to it." Evan circled the keys around his finger and opened the door, letting Chris take the lead and Violet take his hand as they headed out.

***

"Can we join you?" (Y/n) smiled shyly and looked over at the girl she classed as a sister.

A smile lit up Maddie's face and she nodded, waving at the seats when she saw her family standing by her table.

Everyone was filtering around the station, finding a table to sit at to wait for the ceremony to begin. And (Y/n) thought sitting with Maddie and Jee might be a good idea, especially since they would be close to the stage and all the kids would be able to see the boys easily from here.

She felt Eddie's hand on her shoulder as she slowly sat down next to Maddie and he stood behind her chair and kissed the back of her head. While Chris sat down next to her and Violet sat opposite (Y/n) so she could be next to Jee.

Violet was the eldest girl, being six, Jee was in the middle since she was almost four, and then Poppy was the youngest since she was two. But the three of them got along like a house on fire and were always wanting to be together and go out with each other.

"Okay baby, are you gonna sit with mummy while we go over there?" Evan bounced Poppy on his hip and moved her towards (Y/n), but he rolled his eyes when she tightened her arms around his neck and started to wriggle around.

She squirmed and whined, muttering no as she tried to glue herself against him to stop him from putting her down.

"You can't come up on stage with us, girlie." He pecked her temple before he sat her on (Y/n)'s lap.

As much as Evan wanted to stand up on stage with all the kids stood by their side, they couldn't exactly do that. But he didn't want Poppy to get upset or have a temper tantrum either. She was as clingy as she was cute and she didn't like being parted from any of her three parents.

She wriggled around on (Y/n)'s lap, whining and holding her arms out while her bottom lip wobbled, something that always made Evan give in and crumble like a cookie. But he didn't get chance to try and reach out to kiss her or try and bargain with her before Eddie leaned over and held her hands.

"You stay with mum and be good, and you might get to wear papa's medal, okay?" It seemed enough of a bribe to stop Poppy from having a mini meltdown and she nodded, managing a smile when Eddie kissed her cheek.

Evan murmured a quiet "Be good," to them all and gave Maddie's shoulder a squeeze before he and Eddie made their way over to the stage to stand with the others.

(Y/n) watched them both saunter off and it made her smile when Evan hid himself away on the back row like he was trying to blend in and make sure he didn't stand out. Tommy was the tallest, but Evan came in at a close second and he didn't want to stand at the front and block the other's views.

She let her eyes wander around the station for a minute while her arms tightened around Poppy and she kissed the top of her head. The ambulance and both trucks had been parked round the back so there was enough space for a party in here. And two other nearby stations were on standby so all calls could be redirected to them. Allowing the 118 to have the whole day off to celebrate without the risk of a callout getting in the way and disrupting everything.

When Poppy wriggled and stretched her arms out, a soft smile overtook Maddie's face and caused her eyes to crease.

"Aww, you wanna sit with me, honey?" She opened her arms and gladly let the toddler clamber from (Y/n)'s lap and onto her own. She wrapped her arms around Poppy and snuggled her close to her chest and pressed a sloppy kiss to her cheek.

(Y/n) smiled at the sight and looked across at the rest of the kids, noting that Jee and Violet were more than happy chatting away about something in hushed whispers. And Chris was grinning from ear to ear, his eyes set on both dads, just waiting for the speeches to start so he could begin clapping.

She twisted in her seat, moving so her back was straight against the chair and she was turned towards the left so she could face the stage and watch the boys.

But a twinge glimmered across her face when another contraction tore through her stomach. Her hand moved down to smooth circles into the lower part of her stomach but when the pain disappeared, she let out a shallow breath.

When the pain wore off, (Y/n) continued smoothing her hand along the side of her stomach and she slouched a little in her chair. A forced smile played on her lips so the boys didn't suspect anything was wrong.

At least this was still the early stages right now. They could get through the ceremony and the pleasantries and (Y/n) could try and last as long as possible before needing to tell the boys what was happening and cause some panic.

A sudden thought flashed through her mind and had her taking a sharp breath.

Her water best not break yet.

If her waters broke too soon she wouldn't be able to pass it off or stop anyone from knowing she was in labour. But if it held off, (Y/n) could breeze through the contractions like she had been doing for the last hour or so. She could push them aside and try to carry on with the celebrations. When she had Violet it had taken a long time for her waters to actually break, she got down to eight minutes between contractions before her waters broke.

With Poppy she barely went into labour an hour before her water broke and everything seemed to move swiftly.

"So, how are you?" Maddie turned Poppy around on her lap so both of them were facing the stage, but she looked to the left to smile at (Y/n) who broke out of her trance and came back to reality.

"Tired." (Y/n) smiled and leaned back a little more, slouching down so her back didn't hurt as much and she darted to look over at the clock on the far wall. She hadn't been keeping track of the timing. She needed to count the minutes between each contraction so she knew if she was close to having the baby or not.

Maddie and Chimney had seen first-hand how ill (Y/n) had been at the start of this pregnancy.

(Y/n) had been in and out of hospital with severe morning sickness in the beginning. Evan had come off a twelve hour night shift and then spent the next twenty four hours in hospital after he came home and found (Y/n) passed out in the bathroom, dehydrated after throwing up everything she had in her.

It took a while for the morning sickness to taper off, and it didn't help when she already had three other kids to look after. Which was one of the reasons Maddie had been round to their house so much, so she could try and help look after the kids and give (Y/n) a break.

It felt like the least she could do because when Jee was born and Maddie had been struggling, (Y/n) had stepped in to look after her niece. After Maddie took time to go and take care of herself, (Y/n) had Jee almost every other day to give Chimney a break and to help as much as she could.

"Well you look lovely, by the way. I love the dress." Maddie took a sip of her drink and reclined in her seat while she looked up and down the dress approvingly. The colour was lovely and it stood out well without making her look rounded or out of shape with her pregnancy.

"Thank you."

(Y/n) was used to the boys constantly telling her they thought she looked lovely, but that was different. They were her partners. They always thought she looked good, especially when she was pregnant. Hearing from someone else that she looked lovely boosted (Y/n)'s confidence.

Her figure had just started to change after having Poppy and now she was pregnant again, changing shape for a third time.

She smiled up at the boys on stage.

Eddie looked stoic. His face was calm and his lips were curved into a tender, blushing smile. Whereas Evan looked a mix between excited and nervous, trying to dampen down his smile so it didn't shine too brightly and show off how childlike he felt right now.

(Y/n) couldn't wait to see what the pictures would look like once they were uploaded in a few days. She wanted all the pictures she could get of the boys and the team as a whole.

Her spine clicked into place and she sat up straighter once it was time for them all to be awarded their medals.

Eddie looked almost pleased to get off stage and he managed to smile when the medal was hung around his neck. It made (Y/n) wonder just how long the boys would keep them on before they either put the medals in (Y/n)'s bag or pawned them off on the kids. It would be Eddie who would give his away first, (Y/n) knew that. Evan would be a bit more apprehensive to part with his medal.

The dark rouge blush that flushed Evan's face when it was his turn made (Y/n) smile. He looked so sweet with his nose and cheeks tainted pink and his neck flushed red and his smile reached those baby blue eyes.

She could see his hands fidgeting in front of his lap, scratching together to remain calm and composed until he could move to the back of the stage again and blend into the background. Not that he could ever blend in when in (Y/n)'s eyes, both her men always stood out.

As soon as the clapping started and everyone began to move, (Y/n) could hear all the kids cheering and bouoncing up and down like rockets about to take off into the sky.

It made her smile, but her smile faded when another contraction stabbed at her abdomen and had her leaning forwards. Her hand gripped the edge of the table and she took a sharp breath, pressing her lips into a thin line to muffle any sound and try to cover up her unease.

"You okay?"

She felt Maddie's hand on her wrist and she forced herself to nod and try to laugh. If Maddie knew she was having contractions, she would tell the boys straight away and then none of them would be staying for much longer.

(Y/n) didn't want to disrupt the ceremony in any way, she wanted today to go well and the boys and the kids to enjoy themselves. She wanted the boys to get the recognition they deserved and have a relaxed day with their colleagues where they didn't have to rush into dangerous situations.

Both the boys loved a party and (Y/n) wasn't going to tell them and ruin the atmosphere until it was absolutely necessary.

"Just back ache, God this boy's killing my spine." She wasn't exactly lying, her back did hurt a lot more than usual. Only last week her back had locked in place and Eddie had to sit on the kitchen floor with her for over half an hour until he could finally move her and stand her up without crippling her in agony.

She tried to sit back up straight and when she looked over at the boys, she grinned and looked around the table.

"Why don't you all go get a picture with dad and papa?"

Poppy was off like a shot, squirming out of Maddie's arms and squealing with her arms stretched out in front of her. She looked cute, like a little berry in her red dress, weaving between everyone who quickly moved out of her path so she could make a beeline for her dads.

She reached Eddie first who grinned and scooped her up, planting a kiss down on her cheek as he swung her round in the air before settling her down on his chest.

Chris and Violet followed swiftly after and Evan picked Violet up while Chris stood between them both. The five of them got a few lovely pictures together that (Y/n) would make sure she got printed and put in a frame at home.

Tilting her head down, (Y/n) looked down at her stomach while her lips pressed together tightly and her hand curled around the edge of the table. The sharp edge cut into her palm and she held her breath until her chest felt like it was going to explode, making sure she didn't make a sound at the familiar tearing feeling in her abdomen.

She almost jumped in her seat when she felt a pair of hands on her shoulders and a set of lips smothering the top of her head.

"Wanna come get something to eat, baby?" Evan's hands moved up and down (Y/n)'s arms as he leaned over the back of her chair and attached his lips to the side of her neck.

"No, m'not hungry." Her hand reached up to hold Evan's wrist and she gave a tight squeeze while her head leaned into the crook of his neck. She couldn't go and get something to eat, not when her stomach was churning and the contractions were starting to tear her in two.

"You and bubba aren't hungry? I find that hard to believe." Evan let go of her shoulders so he could curve his arms around her front and glue his chest into her back.

He couldn't well believe that (Y/n) didn't want anything to eat when she knew Bobby had helped make half the food on that buffet table. She and the kids were all suckers for Bobby's food, especially when she was pregnant. Evan was always delighted at the strange cravings (Y/n) had when she was pregnant and he loved that she actually had a proper appetite when she was pregnant- at least after the morning sickness wore off with this pregnancy.

"Not yet anyway," (Y/n) murmured back before she pecked Evan's cheek and clicked her spine into place.

"You'd better be quick, there won't be much left soon."

"Not with you and the kids nearby." A grin spread across (Y/n)'s lips when Evan swatted his hand down on her hip. "I'll come up and get a drink." She patted his arm before her hands moved to the table to try and ease herself up.

She felt Evan's hands shift to her hips and once she was up, he pecked her cheek and kept an arm curved around her waist as they headed over to the buffet table. Evan eventually unravelled his arm from (Y/n)'s waist so he could reach over and pass Chris and Violet a plate each.

He stood behind Eddie and rested his chin on Eddie's shoulder so he could kiss his neck, nudging his shirt collar out the way.

A shiver tore down Eddie's spine and he gruffed, trying not to move or make a noise when he felt Evan nipping at the side of his neck. He rose a brow and twisted his head to the right to look at his partner who was grinning into his neck.

"Don't mark me up." He kept his voice quiet so Poppy wouldn't take any notice since the toddler was sat on his hip, currently refusing to let him go.

Evan grinned and finally pulled away once a red slash appeared on Eddie's neck that he tried to cover with the collar of his shirt. He moved his free hand down to Violet's shoulder and let her stand in front of him while Chris stood between him and Eddie, all of them adding to their paper plates.

Eddie led the way back to the table with Chris following behind him while Evan stayed with Violet and pointed out the stuff she would eat. She was a fussy eater, most of the stuff on the table she wouldn't even try. Whereas Chris was like both his dads and ate anything, and Poppy would just pick and choose things from Eddie's plate.

Just as Evan was about to guide Violet back towards the table, he stopped when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Uh, Buck?" Chimney let go of Evan's arm and reached to his right, daring to rest his hand on (Y/n)'s arm when she looked like she was about to collapse.

She was holding a pitcher of juice with a stack of paper cups in front of her, both of which she was about to take back to the table. But she stopped and leaned forward, her free hand pressed down onto the table that she prayed would take her weight and keep her stood upright.

Chimney could feel her shaking and she had her chin tilted down into her chest and her eyes were snapped closed. She wasn't saying anything but he would take a guess that she was in some sort of pain.

"Baby, what's wrong?" Evan let go of Violet's shoulder and gently nudged her to follow after Eddie before he moved to stand behind (Y/n).

"M-my back…"

A frown formed on his lips and he leaned over her while his right hand gently pressed into her lower back. A cringe tore through Evan and his lips formed a grimace when a loud click echoed through the air and he felt the crunch beneath his palm. Her spine had clicked into place.

(Y/n) let out a small sigh and finally opened her eyes, shuddering through her next breath, disguising the contraction with the back pain she was having. At least her back felt a little more flexible now Evan had unintentionally put it back in place.

"Thanks," She tried to smile up at Evan but it didn't make him feel any better, the concern was still plastered across his face.

"Let's sit you down, that didn't sound too good."

(Y/n) was inclined to agree, she wasn't sure how much longer they would be staying here if the contractions continued this strongly.

***

Closing her eyes, (Y/n) leaned forward until her head was hung over the table and her knees were pulled up against the underside of the tabletop. Her hand moved to jab into the side of her stomach, pressing as hard as she could to try and deflect the pain and distract herself.

Her teeth sank down in her lower lip so sharply blood started to well up on her tongue and flood her mouth.

The contractions were as strong as ever and they were starting to get closer together. She couldn't wait this out much longer. She was going to have to tell the boys and ruin the party, but they were having so much fun.

All the kids were in their element, drifting around to talk to everyone else and get pictures and cake and play games. Chris had been having a great time with Denny and chatting to Hen and the girls were all playing together and Poppy was being passed around like a present for everyone to admire. She had taken a shine to Bobby who had spent almost half an hour walking around the station with her, talking to people and showing her around.

A quiet whimper tumbled past her lips and her body started to shake as her knees juttered against the table that was empty, apart from herself.

Once the pain started to subside, (Y/n) tried to sit up straight in her chair but her lower back felt like it had been broken and her abdomen was on fire.

She took a sharp breath and pushed up to her feet. She needed to walk around before her legs turned numb and she broke down in tears. Sitting there going stiff wasn't going to do her any favours, she needed to be up moving about.

Her hand pressed to her lower back and she grabbed her phone from the table when she looked across at the other side of the station. She could take some pictures. That would be enough to distract her and bring a smile to her face.

She could barely find the strength to put one foot in front of the other but she did her best, shuffling more than walking, to try and get as close to the make-shift dance floor.

Her heart swelled and a flutter of adrenaline coursed through her chest when she looked at her family.

Eddie had Violet's hands in his and the eldest girl stood so close she was almost standing on his feet. A bright smile lit up his face and creased his eyes as they danced and swayed from side to side and every few seconds, Eddie would shimmy Violet from left to right to make the hem of her dress spin and flutter.

Then there was Chris who was stood with Evan and Bobby, the three of them doing some sort of strange dance similar to the Macarana.

And Poppy and Jee were in the centre of the dancers, their hands tangled together, their knees bending and both of them were spinning in slow circles, doing their own sort of dance. They were the cutest sight. (Y/n) wondered how Evan wasn't over there taking dozens of photos or trying to join in already.

(Y/n) moved to the edge of the make shift dance floor, rubbing her left hand in circles along her back while she set her phone to record and slowly pointed around the dance floor. Capturing all of her family and friends enjoying themselves to the music, even Chimney and Maddie were up swaying to a rather upbeat song.

After a few moments, (Y/n) switched to taking photos and shuffled a bit closer while a tense smile pulled on her lips.

When another contraction hit, (Y/n) swallowed down a groan and let herself crease forward a bit to ease the tension and try to make the pain more bearable. But the pain seemed to extend and shake down to her feet and her thighs quaked together as her knees felt like they were going to buckle.

She didn't realise had doubled over even more until a groan tumbled past her llips and she suddenly realised tears were welling up in her eyes, ready to flush her face.

For a split second, Eddie looked away from Violet and glanced his eyes around the room. He knew (Y/n) hadn't eaten anything yet and she had been unusually quiet at the table earlier. But he couldn't see her sitting at the table any longer.

He scanned his eyes around while he twisted Violet to the left and let her tug and sway on his hands. But his lips fell from a smile into a confused frown when his gaze locked on his partner.

She was bent forward at an odd angle with her hand on her stomach and her other hand was shaking to the point she looked like she was about to drop her phone.

"Go to papa a minute, baby." He leaned down and pecked the top of Violet's head before he pointed her in Evan's direction.

Once she toddled off, Eddie weaved through the few other people dancing or letting loose, his hands moving to reach out for (Y/n) in case she lost her balance or crashed to her knees. His hands found her elbows and her felt her shudder and almost jump back until she realised who it was stood in front of her.

His thumbs smoothed up and down the creases of her elbows and he waited for (Y/n) to look up at him, but she wouldn't. Both of them looked down when (Y/n) grabbed his forearms and groaned.

Water trickled down her legs into a puddle at her feet.

Her waters had broken.

"Oh God. Buck!" Eddie twisted his head to the left and reached one hand out to beckon Evan over to them. They had a situation now.

He gently pulled (Y/n) closer to him and sidestepped a few paces until they were closer to a table and away from the dance floor. His brows rose when (Y/n) tightened her hold on him and pressed her forehead into his chest. There was no hiding now. (Y/n) couldn't play this off or pretend she was fine, not now her waters had broken and Eddie had seen her in agony.

"You're in labour, aren't you?" His lips hovered beside her ear and he gave her arms a squeeze when (Y/n) didn't bother to look at him, she just hummed.

Eddie nodded more to himself than to (Y/n) and let go of her arm so he could cup the back of her neck. He thought she looked uncomfortable earlier when the rest of them were eating and (Y/n) went quiet. He had seen her wriggle and try to get comfy or become uncomfortable when she tried to get up.

But they were thirty-five weeks along now, labour technically could happen at any point, although Eddie wasn't expecting it this early.

"Since when?" He murmured against the side of her head, a sense of authority in his words but a shiver ran down his spine when (Y/n) didn't answer him. She just stayed tucked up against his chest.

Both of them felt Evan hurrying up beside them. One hand clamped down on Eddie's shoulder while his other hand held (Y/n)'s elbow to try and keep her stood upright. She looked like she was about to go down on her knees. And Evan hadn't missed the small puddle of water on the floor when he rushed over. He could gather what had happened here.

"Baby, did your water break? Have we gotta go?" He rushed through his words, looking between both partners before he spun to glance behind him.

The music was being turned down and he could see Maddie and Chimney reaching out to stop the kids from rushing over or thinking something was wrong. There was no need for the kids to panic.

"Let's go sit down."

(Y/n) rolled her lips together and managed to lift her head when she felt the boys move round. Eddie was on her left with an arm curved around her back and her hand tangled with his. And Evan stood on her right, nodding silently at his sister when she pointed to her stomach and murmured 'the baby?' across the station.

Her legs felt like they had turned to jelly, she could barely lift her feet anymore but when another contraction tore through her stomach, (Y/n) stopped. Her temple flopped against Evan's arm and she tried to swallow down a groan as her knees bent and she tried to crouch down between the boys.

She didn't want to be stood up any longer. She wanted to kneel or sit down and she couldn't make it to a table.

The shallow, panting breaths she let out made Eddie's chest tighten and when (Y/n) started to groan and shake, Eddie looked between both partners.

"Do not tell me you're pushing already."

The growl that vibrated after his words made (Y/n) whimper and she looked up at him through hooded lashes that almost made him melt. She could feel the deep breaths he was taking to try and stay calm and she all but shuddered when Evan held her chin and tilted her head up in his direction.

"How long have you been in labour?" His arched brow and stern lips set in stone told (Y/n) not to bother trying to fob them off or pretend she wasn't sure. If she was close to pushing she had to know how long she had been having contractions. And neither of them were going to be impressed if she had kept this from them for longer than twenty minutes.

"S-since this morning?" It came out more of a question than an answer and tears trickled down (Y/n)'s face when Evan swore and a dark "This Morning?!" grumbled past Eddie's lips in retaliation.

"Christ baby, why the Hell didn't you say something?"

A tear rolled down (Y/n)'s cheek and made Evan's heart break and regret his words instantly. He wasn't trying to argue or get into an argument but he couldn't help how upset it made him that she had been suffering and in pain for ages and neither of them had known that she needed help.

"I'm sorry. I-it's your day-"

"Nevermind that mi amor, we need to get in the back room, we can't transport if you're already dilated."

Eddie didn't care for apologies, she didn't have to say sorry for not telling them, no matter how upset they might be that (Y/n) had clearly suffered all day without letting them know. They had to sit her down and get her checked over because if she was almost fully dilated, it wouldn't be wise to move her until after she'd had the baby. Unless they all felt like having their fourth baby in the back of the 118 ambulance.

"Can you watch the kids?" Evan looked across at his sister who nodded, Poppy already in her arms so the youngest didn't try and run off after her parents. While the three of them changed direction to aim for the locker room. It was the closest room without having to drag (Y/n) down the back corridor or hike her up the stairs.

"Hen I'll need a medic bag."

She was already off to get the kit whilst the three of them blundered into the locker room just as (Y/n) cried out and doubled forward. She was glad when Eddie moved to stand in front of her, moving her hands to his shoulders while his hands clamped down on her hips and held her up. He let her face smother into his chest and he held tight when she bent her knees and tried to hunker down.

They could both hear Evan muttering curse words under his breath while he shed his blazer and tossed his tie to one side. He made quick work of rolling up his sleeves before he went down on his knees behind (Y/n) and murmured a soft 'Let's have a look.'

Both men were suddenly glad they had taken their medals off almost as soon as they got given them. Chris was proudly wearing Eddie's medal and the last Evan saw of his, Poppy had been parading around with it, showing everyone the red ribbon that matched her name and her ruby red dress.

"Shit, you're crowning already. This is gonna be the first baby born in the station."

"I'm sorry-"

"Hey, no use apologising. Let's focus on meeting our boy, hm?" Eddie smothered his lips against the top of (Y/n)'s head, smiling into her hair when his eyes locked on Evan. Their partner was knelt on the floor, breathless and smiling proudly.

They didn't have to wait any longer to meet their second boy and even out the score to two boys and two girls. Their next bundle was about to arrive and Evan couldn't wait.

"Did I hear that right?" Hen questioned as she dumped a medic bag and some towels down beside Evan and reached out to hold (Y/n)'s hips. "Maybe we should sit you down, honey. This is baby number three for you, they're not gonna wait around."

Eddie carefully leaned (Y/n) back into Hen so he could shed his blazer and tie like Evan, before he went back to holding (Y/n). He and Hen turned her around and slowly lowered down to the floor with her in their hold.

She let herself ease back into Eddie's chest and tipped her head back on his shoulder while his arms cocooned around her waist. His chin perched on her shoulder and made a shudder run through her skin.

"Okay baby, keep pushing, you know what to do."

(Y/n) let out a groan and moved her hands until Eddie took the hint and deadlocked their hands together. He smothered his lips against the side of her head and pushed his chest forward into her back to keep (Y/n) sitting upright. While Evan had a towel over his lap, knelt between (Y/n)'s legs with Hen at their side getting the equipment out ready.

(Y/n) snapped her eyes closed and tucked her face into Eddie's neck, letting him curl around her like a blanket and smile against her temple.

"You're so close now, mi amor. What a way to celebrate, eh?"

Tears started to flush down (Y/n)'s face as a broken cry tore from her lips when she pushed forward and felt Eddie shuffle up behind her to keep her sitting upright and prop her up. He peppered his lips along her neck and over her cheek while he looked over her shoulder, grinning through tears when Evan shuffled forward with his hands stretched out.

"Head's out, one more push."

(Y/n) could see stars twinkling in front of her eyes and all the blood seemed to swim through her head. This felt so much quicker than the first time with Violet, possibly even quicker than when they had Poppy too and she wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

"Good girl, you've done it. This must be a record for us." Evan kissed her knee and felt her fingers shakily drag across the back of his neck while he looked down at the bundle in his arms.

And Eddie cupped his hand beneath her chin and gently lifted her head and let it fall into the crook of his neck. He pressed his lips against her temple and brushed his thumb up and down her cheek when he felt all the tension leave her body.

Her trembling hands reached out when Evan knelt between her thighs and carefully laid their boy on her chest. She could barely hear his cries from the static pulsing through her ears but she could feel his hands batting down on her chest and his cries vibrating through her ribs.

"You know it's supposed to be our day off, right?" Hen mused with a cheeky smile and she couldn't help but lean over to get a look at the new addition.

A lopsided grin flooded Evan's face as his hands smoothed up and down (Y/n)'s exposed thighs, both to comfort her and help get some circulation back through her legs. He leaned forward and pecked her lips, looking down at their little boy before he looked up and caught Eddie in a quick kiss.

"The kids are gonna be thrilled." Evan glanced to the left and took a peek through the doorway.

They knew both Chris and Violet would be bouncing off the walls right now, desperate to see their parents and their new brother before they had to go to the hospital. But all of them knew Poppy probably wouldn't be happy that now she wouldn't be able to stay with any of her parents. She would have to make do with her aunt or her grandad Bobby for a while.

Eddie kissed her temple again and reached a hand down to brush his thumb along their son's cheek.

"Thank you for the present, mi amor."

"Yeah," Evan mused, tangling his fingers with Eddie's on top of their son's chest. "This is better than any medal."

[in-class-daydreams]

What was that thing about the reader’s burn mark in the ex husband Gojo au?

This was one of my first ever Sen AU asks and it took me this long to answer it because actually didn't have a concrete answer until now lol I didn't expect this AU to get popular or for anyone to notice that detail. But I wanted to do a good job as a token of appreciation of one of Sen's first fans. Sorry for the wait!

cw. kidnapping, violence, boldily injury, descriptions of a burn wound, reader and Gojo are around 20 in this, proofreading is for suckas

~

Imagine how unafraid you are when you've been kidnapped because you know that husband Gojo will always come to save you.

"Come ooooon!" Satoru groans. "If you get away, my report doesn't have to be as long, so can't you just let her go and save us both some effort?"

The three of you were locked in a standoff in the boiler room of some supposedly abandoned building. It smelled of mold and garbage and you're convinced the building would be condemned if the proper authorities knew the state of the place.

Your captor - Well, one of them. The rest didn't make it this far - has you in a headlock. He has blood dripping down his temple and his crewmates lay lifeless all around him, brandishing you around like a human shield.

"Fat chance!" your captor shouts. You don't understand where he gets the confidence, but to his credit, he probably only survived this long because he's nowhere near as afraid of Satoru as the rest of his buddies were. "You wanna fight! Let's fight!"

He tosses you aside and your head violently bashes into the brick wall. You collide with a rusty metal pipe, breaking it apart and releasing hot steam to billow right up across your chest. You scream in pain as you smell your own burning flesh. Between the pain, exhaustion, and head trauma, you aren't able to endure much more before you lose consciousness.

~

Imagine husband Gojo demanding to know, "Why isn't she healing?!"

Instructor Yaga shakes his head. He didn't like the idea of one of you getting hurt, regardless of how strong you were. You may have graduated, but you'd always be one of his students.

"Our doctors are saying it's because of her cursed technique. Because she consumes cursed energy, her body processes it differently, but for some reason, she has dead spots. Parts of her body don't react to cursed energy at all. Including technique reversal," he explains.

Satoru grips your hand in his. You're asleep in an infirmary bed at the high school, looking peaceful.

"I'm so sorry," he whispers. It's covered in pristine white bandage now, but when the doctor patched you up, an ugly, jagged wound with bright red, burnt skin and flesh covered much of your chest from just under your collarbone to slightly farther than your sternum.

"It's not your fault," Instructor Yaga assures him.

Satoru doesn't look up from where your wound would be. He stares on tiredly.

"You're wrong," he murmurs. "But thank you for saying so."

Your eyes flutter and you slowly come back to consciousness. Satoru calls for the doctor and they rush to your side. The pain in your chest is severe, but you can only think of one thing. In your delirium, you forget about the one detail you've been agonizing on how to tell your husband.

You ask, "Is the baby okay?"

~

Thank you so much for the ask!

Click [here] to keep up with ex-husband Gojo and his (now estranged) family | Ask stuff about Sen and the fam [here]

[stevie-petey]

episode seven: the mind flayer

Steve, who is leaning next to Dustin and you, snaps his finger. “Like the Germans?” “Uh… The Nazis?” Your brother looks at you, silently urging you to shut the teen up, and you pinch your nose again and sigh. “Oh, buddy.” You loop your arm through his and pat Steve’s shoulder. “Let’s just listen, okay?”

Summary: jonathan is back and has a lot of questions and you have even more for him, the gang gets back together and ties will to a chair, you tell the kid a story to distract him from his demons, steve is a confused mess but at least youre with him, and someone makes a surprise appearance (her name rhymes with shell).

Rating: general, cursing

Warnings: use of y/n, fem!reader, talk of death and grief, violence and blood

Words: 12.1k

Before you swing in: long time no see ! lots has happened, and this chapter was a pain for so many reasons, but shes here and i love her and i so sincerely hope yall enjoy :)

-

Stumbling blindly through dark woods while holding your bloodied ribcage has never been your favorite activity. Neither is following after a bunch of Demodogs to probably once again sacrifice your life to save others, yet here you are.

Steve has a gentle hand resting on the small of your back as he helps you navigate the woods. Dustin is to your left, scanning for anything that could possibly trip you as the three of you walk in a line. Lucas and Max follow, both of whom watch you with weary eyes.

Sure, you probably don’t look too good, but honestly. You’ve been objectively worse.

“You’re positive that was Dart?” Lucas asks, breaking the silence.

“Yes,” Dustin sighs next to you, kicking at a twig in your way. “He had the same exact yellow pattern on his butt.”

“Why do you have his butt memorized?” You mumble under your breath, which Steve chuckles at.

Max shakes her head. “But he was tiny two days ago.”

“Well, he’s molted three times already.” Dustin kicks at another twig, this time with more anger behind it. He’s on edge, and you know he’s worried that somehow Lucas will figure out that he kept Dart all this time.

You’d help the kid, but he dug his own grave.

“Malted?” Steve asks, looking over to you to see if you’re hearing what he’s hearing.

“No, buddy.” You shake your head at him, slightly endeared by the confusion on his face.

“Molted,” your brother clarifies. “Shed his skin to make room for growth, like hornworms.”

“I don’t think Steve knows what hornworms are, Dustin.”

The boy sighs, knowing you’re right, and continues to walk.

Max, however, won’t let the topic go. “When’s he gonna molt again?”

“It's gotta be soon.” Dustin responds, now looking around tiredly. He doesn’t have to tell you, but you saw how quickly Dart grew overnight; he’s grown at an alarming rate. “When he does he’ll be fully grown, or close to it.”

“And so will his friends,” you say grimly.

It’s quiet for a moment after that, your words unnerving the group. Everyone but Max had to deal with a fully grown Demogorgon last year, and none of you have forgotten how terrifying it had been. You all still have scars from it, both metaphorically and physically.

After a minute or so, Steve tries to lighten up the situation. “Well, at least there isn’t another cat for them to eat–”

“Steve–” But you’re too late, Lucas has already picked up on what the teen is saying.

The boy shoves past you and whips around to face Dustin, angrier than you’ve ever seen him. “Wait, a cat? Dart ate a cat?”

“No, what? No!” Your brother is a terrible liar.

“What are you talking about? He ate Mews–” Your elbow digs into Steve’s side, causing him to hunch over and wheeze. “Shit.”

You force Steve’s head up so that he looks at you while you forcefully whisper, “Stop. Talking.”

“Mews? Who’s Mews?”

You turn to Max. “It’s nothing–”

“It’s their cat,” Steve wheezes out, still not at all understanding the situation.

“Steve!” You and Dustin screech at the same time. God, maybe it does make sense that he’s barely graduating high school.

“I knew it! You kept him!” Lucas shouts at Dustin, before turning to you with hurt in his eyes. “And you let him hide it from the party?”

You wince. “I had a suspicion, but by the time I found out it had already been too late and–”

“He missed me. He wanted to come home… and Y/N just happened to not know about it for a while.” Dustin interrupts, trying to appease his friend, but it doesn’t work.

“Bullshit!”

“I didn���t know he was a Demogorgon, okay?”

“Oh, so now you admit it?”

You try to intervene, you’ve always hated when the boys fight. “Listen, what’s done is done and it’s too late to be angry now.”

Lucas scoffs. “I crawled into a dumpster to find Dart!”

“And that was a conscious decision that you made–”

“Guys!” Max steps in. “Who cares? We have to go.”

“I care!” Lucas faces Dustin again. “You put the party in jeopardy! You broke the rule of law!”

“So did you!” You’ve never heard anger like this come out from Dustin. It isn’t an anger that spills over from a regular argument. Your eyes flicker to Max and you know that the anger is one that stems from hurt.

You remember how excited Dustin had been to tell you about his crush on the girl. Now, after she came here with Lucas, you fear you may have to have a code blue soon with your brother about young love and heartbreak. Unrequited crushes suck.

The kids all begin to scream at one another and you’re too tired to try and intervene again. Technically, they’re all right. Lucas shouldn’t have told Max everything, Dustin shouldn’t have hid Dart, and both boys shouldn’t continuously treat Max like some weird outsider.

As they argue, Steve rubs small circles in your back, sensing how exhausted you are. While your bleeding may have stopped, you still feel woozy from the blood loss and could really go for some water and food right now.

“They’ll figure it out,” he assures you, breath warm against your ear, and all you can do is sigh.

You’re about to tell Steve that maybe you should all walk back home, it’s late and the kids are all too mad at one another to be of any help, but then you hear screeching coming from the distance.

You both freeze.

Slowly, the two of you step away from the kids to follow after the sound. They’re too busy arguing to notice, but the screeching continues to grow louder and you share a look with Steve. This isn’t good.

“Hey guys?” Steve calls towards the kids, hand never leaving your back.

The kids continue to argue, ignoring him, and you bring your fingers to your lips and let out a high pitched whistle. “Idiots!” Lucas, Dustin, and Max all go quiet, looking over at you. More screeches fill the silence, and you tilt your head towards the sound. “Hear that? Shall we continue to fight or are we done here?”

Steve flashes his light towards the source of the sound and beckons for the kids to follow. You stay behind, both of you silently agreeing that he’ll lead and you’ll make sure everyone is safe. Lucas and Dustin immediately follow, but Max lingers.

“Hey, you comin’?” You ask, motioning towards where the boys have all gone.

“Why are we headed towards the sound?”

“Because it’s what we do,” you shrug. “Welcome to the party.”

Max blinks at you, in disbelief, and it breaks your heart that she has to come to terms with all of this. Taking the risk, you reach towards her hand, offering her time to pull away, but she doesn’t. She lets you grab her hand and you squeeze it, giving her a soft smile. “I’m right here.”

The girl exhales, still guarded, yet she finally nods at your words. She seems to believe you, which you’re thankful for, and together the two of you follow after the others. The five of you approach the overlook, all of Hawkins visible. There’s a layer of thick fog covering the town, the screeches ominous as the town is blanketed.

“I don’t see him,” Dustin mumbles next to you, though he slowly links his fingers through yours, quietly confessing to you that he’s scared.

You squeeze his hand. “Lucas, do you think your binoculars can see that far?”

The boy brings them up to his eyes, and within a few seconds he seems to have spotted the source. He swallows, lowers the binoculars, and says, “It’s the lab.”

“They’re going back home.” You whisper, feeling defeated more than anything else. It somehow always comes back to that fucking lab. Will’s episodes, Mike’s silence, Nancy and Jonathan taking the burden of bringing the entire lab down themselves.

You now understand the immense anger Nancy felt that day during lunch, when you had all been at Jonathan’s car and she created her genius plan. How badly she wanted to make the assholes pay for what they did to Hawkins. To Will. To Barb. To sweet El.

“We have to follow.” You say, an edge to your voice. Your side sears with pain, your ankle sending phantom pains up your leg. Dustin clings onto your hand like his life depends on it. You’re sick of suffering the consequences that Hawkin’s Lab has brought upon itself.

You begin to walk down the overlook, steps slow and careful, and while the kids glance uncertainly at one another, Steve doesn’t hesitate to follow after you. –

As you approach the gate to the lab, you see a car with headlights parked in front of it. Two figures stand at the edge of the forest line, watching.

Other people are here.

You bring your knives out and flick the handle so that the blades extend. Steve stands next to you, his own bat raised after seeing your fear, and you nod at one another to slowly begin approaching.

“Hello?” One of the figures shouts, their voice oddly familiar.

You stop.

“Who’s there?” The voice shouts again, and this time you recognize it.

It’s Jonathan.

Immediately you start to run, damning the pain in your side, and when you break through the treeline and see Jonathan standing there with Nancy, both of them safe and sound, you start to run even faster.

When Jonathan sees that it’s you, he starts to run as well and within seconds the two of you are a tangle of arms and limbs. He hugs you fiercely, his cologne familiar and you hadn’t known how homesick you were until you felt his arms around you.

“Bug,” Jonathan exhales with relief, squeezing you even tighter. He brings a hand to your hair and cradles your head, his fingers sure and strong and familiar as always. You bury your face in his neck, feeling all the pain and exhaustion from today begin to dissipate.

Nancy walks over and lays a hand on your arm as you’re still wrapped around Jonathan. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“I’m glad you guys are okay,” you sniff, you’re not sure why you’re crying. “God, I’ve had the weirdest two days of my life–”

“Steve?” Jonathan and Nancy suddenly say at the same time.

You pull away from your friend and let out a chuckle. Steve and the kids have now joined, confusion on all of their faces. “Like I said, it’s been a weird few days.”

“Nancy?” Steve walks over, his eyes going back and forth between you and the girl. He feels an overwhelming mixture of emotions overtake him. He notices the way Jonathan’s arm is still wrapped around you as you stand close to his side, and he notices the way Nancy avoids his eyes. Something burns within his chest.

“Jonathan?” Dustin narrows his eyes at the boy, and you can’t help but laugh.

Jonathan and Nancy approach the others and you slowly follow, taking your time. Nancy reaches Steve first. “What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here?” Steve retorts.

“We’re looking for Mike and Will.”

You grab Nancy’s jacket. “Are they okay? Did something happen?”

“They’re not in there, are they?” Dustin motions towards the lab, fear in his voice.

Nancy lowers her voice. “We’re not sure.”

Jonathan senses there’s something else going on. “Why?”

Right on cue, the Demodogs begin to screech from the lab. Next to you, you feel Jonathan stiffen with fear. You know, without having to ask, that his family is stuck inside the lab. Suddenly the gash in your side stings in pain and you clutch at it and let out a wince. Hearing this, Jonathan finally realizes that you’re covered in blood.

“Oh my god,” his hands fall to your side as he scans for any other injuries. “You’re bleeding, oh my god.”

“I’m okay–”

“Fuck, bug. It looks bad–”

“Had a minor setback, we’re all good now though.”

Jonathan shakes his head at you, his eyes dripping with guilt; you know he’s already placed the blame upon himself long before he speaks. “I should’ve been there. I knew something was wrong when you didn’t call, and then Nance and I came back to my home being wrecked and you weren’t at your place and I was worried sick and thought you were dead–”

You grab his hands, forcing him to slow down and breathe. “Hey, look at me.” Slowly, his eyes meet yours. “I’m okay, bee. I had to protect the kids, and I had Steve. I’m right here.”

Jonathan looks over at Steve, who is stuck in some argument between Nancy and the kids, and he lets out a tired laugh. He can’t believe that he’s here right now, tired and delirious from a long trip with Nancy as you hold his hands, your own blood covering them, while Steve spares you worried glances. “Friends with him again, then?”

“It was inevitable.” You sigh, knowing how heavy your words are. Truly, it was inevitable. He’s too much like you, your wounds a matching pair, and you never stood a chance against the inevitability. He’s an extension of you now, you can no longer deny this.

“Are you really okay, though?” Jonathan asks you, still concerned about how much blood is on you. He feels this tug within him, pulling at his chest to encase you within his arms and to never, ever let you out of his sight again.

There’s still a slight limp in your step that Jonathan sees when he thinks you aren’t looking, the scar on your upper arm is harsh against the smooth skin he’s come to memorize, disrupting the topography of your body. Now, you’ve once again gotten hurt because of him. Your favorite cardigan is ripped and bloodied and Jonathan knows it’s one more scar he’s inexplicably given you.

The scars may fade, but he knows he’ll never be able to forgive himself. It’s the same heavy weight you feel within yourself over Will’s disappearance.

You notice that Jonathan’s eyes have glazed over in despair and you kiss his knuckles, bringing him back to you. “I promise I am.”

He nods, though he still looks unsure, but he pulls you in again for another hug. For a moment, everything is still. It reminds you of when you had been in Jonathan’s car last Christmas as he drove you home, the memories between you had gone still. You close your eyes, like you had last year, and for a moment nothing has changed.

“The power’s back!” Nancy exclaims, effectively shutting everyone up about who has seen what when.

You pull away from Jonathan. The urgence in her voice reminds you that everything has changed. There’s a scar on your upper arm that now has a matching scar on your ribcage. Jonathan has bags underneath his eyes that seem like they'll never go away.

You look away from him and look over at the kids and see, in Dustin’s and Lucas’ faces, the familiar fear and acceptance that they’re inevitably in danger. Steve catches your eye and he nods, indicating that whatever happens next, he’s ready whenever you are.

The seven of you quickly make your way back towards the lab’s gate, and Jonathan is the first to get there with you following close behind. The two of you stand in the patrol panel, Jonathan aggressively hitting the button designated for opening the gate, but nothing seems to be happening.

Suddenly Dustin barges in, roughly shoving past Jonathan and mumbling a soft sorry to you.

“Let me try.” Jonathan doesn’t move, which only aggravates your brother further and he flings the teen back. “Let me try, Jonathan!”

Jonathan looks at you incredulously, still having no idea why Dustin seems to suddenly hate him, and you stifle a laugh as you watch the boy repeatedly hit the button while nothing happens.

“Son of a bitch!” Dustin groans, still trying and failing to open the gate.

“Move over,” you shoulder past the kid and start pressing the button yourself. “It probably just doesn’t like you guys.”

Dustin and Jonathan both scoff at you, but you ignore them as you continue to press the button. You were mostly doing it to distract yourself, give your anxious mind something to do, but after a simple few taps, the gates unlock.

You cheer, immensely happy with yourself. “I did it! You guys just really do just suck!”

Jonathan shakes his head at you but offers his hand for you to high five, which you gladly do. As for your brother, he sticks his tongue out at you in retaliation. You ignore the kid and follow Jonathan outside to join the others.

Once the gates have fully opened, you, Nancy, Jonathan, and Steve all begin speaking at once.

“I’ll go,” you all say in unison.

The kids all stare at one another, wondering how this will go. It didn’t escape their notice that Jonathan and Nancy were alone together, and that Steve’s worry over you has strings attached to unspoken truths.

They may be young, but they can sense the tension between you and the teens pretty easily.

“No, someone has to stay with the kids.” Nancy reasons, looking over at Jonathan to back her up, and his eyes draw to hers naturally.

You see this, and you wonder when they became such a cohesive team.

“Bug, what are you thinking?” He asks, knowing that ultimately it’s your call. When it comes to the kids, you’re the one to turn to.

You bite your lip, unsure. Max, Lucas, and Dustin all stare at you, and you know the two boys want you to stay with them. They’ve been through hell tonight, so have you, but then you think about whatever has happened in the lab to Will and Mike.

Sighing, you walk over to Jonathan. “Nance is right. I’ll stay behind with Steve while you and her drive to the lab. They’ll need all the help they can get, and I’m currently in no condition to fight.”

Jonathan’s eyes once again fall to your wrapped side, uncertain if you’ll be safe enough out here. “You sure?”

“I’m sure, bee.” You kiss his cheek, fucking terrified something will go wrong. The lab is crawling with Demodogs. “Promise you’ll be careful?”

“Always,” he cups your face and brings his forehead to yours. “I’ll come back.”

You relish in the warmth and let out a shaky exhale. “Go get Will.”

The moment between you two is intimate; everyone around you looks away. Nancy stares down at her feet while Steve clenches his jaw.

After a few more seconds, you finally release yourself from Jonathan’s hold and turn towards Nancy. “That goes for you as well, Wheeler. Stay safe.”

She nods at you, spares Steve one last glance, and then follows after Jonathan into the car. Within seconds, they speed off down the road, towards Hawkin’s Lab as more Demodogs screech in the distance.

“Well that was awkward.” Max breaks the silence. “Sensing there’s a lot of history there.”

You snort, admiring the girl’s wit, and tiredly lean against the gate’s post. “Still have a lot to catch up on, Max.”

Steve doesn’t say anything, he just gently leans next to you against his own post and flips his flashlight in his hand.

Dustin starts to pace while Lucas stares at the sky, as if willing away every problem from the day, which you want to do yourself. However, your best friend is currently very close to a death lab that Will and Mike are inexplicably trapped in.

You try to calm your breathing, knowing it’s no use getting yourself worked up, but you’re terrified. Steve sees your unease and does his best to comfort you. “Hey, they’ll be okay. Jonathan is a smart guy and Nancy is tough as hell.”

Hearing Nancy’s name coming out of his mouth makes you realize that you haven’t asked him how he’s feeling about all of this, which makes you feel even shittier. He confessed to you last night how he still loves her, and here you are, worried about your friend who the guy’s ex girlfriend showed up with.

“Are you okay?” You ask him softly, worried you’ll scare him away.

Steve doesn’t ask what you mean; he knows and lets out a dry laugh. “Not the most ideal situation.”

You’re about to say more, but something seems to catch Max’s attention. “Guys?”

You look towards where she’s pointing and you hear the faint sounds of tires squealing against concrete. The same sound Billy’s car had made in the school parking lot days ago. As you piece this together, headlights light up the gate and the honking starts.

Immediately you and Steve rush over to the kids and push them away, narrowly avoiding being hit. As soon as the road is cleared, Hopper’s familiar truck brakes in front of you.

“Let’s go,” the man gruffs out, and you’ve never been happier to see that obnoxious cop’s face.

Steve runs over to the passenger door and holds it open while you usher the kids to go inside. “Come on, let’s go! Go, go, go!”

One by one you get the kids seated in the truck, and once you and Steve make sure they’re in safely, he motions for you to go next before he climbs inside and slams the door shut. You end up squished up front, in between Hopper and Steve.

“Drive!” You scream, and Hopper doesn’t need to be told twice before he stomps on the gas and follows after Jonathan’s car.

It’s silent for a few minutes as everyone steadies their breathing, processing what’s just happened. You rub at your side, the rough movements from earlier having upset the wound. Hopper notices this and raises an eyebrow at you. “Lose a fight?”

“Mhm,” you see that he’s dressed in hospital scrubs and raise your own eyebrows. “Got checked into a psych ward?”

Hopper lets out a short laugh and you can see the exhaustion behind his eyes, but he plays along and you’re grateful for it. “Yeah, figured it was time.”

–

The Byers’ home is a disaster when you walk in. The walls are covered with pictures drawn by Will, a map that he somehow came to piece together, of an entire underground tunnel system that the Demodogs now reside in.

You sit on the ground next to Will, who has been placed on the couch while he’s still unconscious, and you hold his cold, limp hand as Jonathan kneels next to the boy and strokes his hair.

“I’m sorry, bud.” He whispers, voice breaking. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I should have been there.”

You grab Jonathan’s own hand. “He wouldn’t blame you. You couldn’t have known.”

Nancy places a hand on his shoulder as she watches over him, a certain concern in her eyes that you’ve never quite seen before. She’s always been the most guarded out of the three of you, but now she’s rubbing comforting circles into Jonathan’s back; you’ve never seen her so open before, so affectionate with someone.

You noticed how much closer they seemed earlier at the lab, how the tension between them now appears to be gone. You know that something happened on their spy adventure, you know they’d been alone together, probably gotten a motel room, even. Your stomach twists at the thought, but Will’s cold hand is a reminder that none of that matters right now. Like last year, he comes first.

“We’ll figure it out, bee. We always do.” You kiss Jonathan’s cheek, not knowing how many more times you’ll be able to do so, and you try to memorize how his face feels pressed against yours, the way your nose buries into his skin and the way he leans into the kiss each and every time.

Jonathan sniffles and thanks you, pulling you into his side as he continues to stroke Will’s hair. Nancy remains standing, and when you look up to offer her to sit next to you, you finally notice Steve standing in the corner, watching.

He’s holding himself as he watches the three of you and, despite how he tries to hide it, you see Steve wipe at his nose and blink away tears; he’s never looked so small before, and your heart breaks for him as he walks out of the room.

You excuse yourself to follow after him, bypassing Hopper who is angrily trying to contact some government people to alert them about Hawkin’s Lab.

Steve walks into the kitchen and faces the drawings on the wall, his back turned away from everyone in a pathetic attempt to gain some privacy. Slowly, you approach him and stand to his left. You know he senses your presence, but he continues to stare straight ahead.

“You want to talk about it?” You ask, voice low so no one else in the kitchen can hear.

Steve closes his eyes and shakes his head, it’s all of a response he can give you right now. He’s worried that if he tries to speak, he’ll start crying. His worst fear has come true. He’s been replaced.

Tentatively, you grab his hand and bring your lips to his ear. “Can I?”

You feel Steve shiver, his breath is shaky, and though he isn’t quite sure what you’re asking him, he nods anyways.

He will always say yes to you.

The moment Steve nods, you tug at the hand you’re holding and bring his arms around you; he practically melts in your arms. Releasing another shaky breath, he buries his face in your hair and inhales your perfume as if gasping for air. He brings a hand to your hair as he cradles the back of your head, bringing you even closer together.

For the first time in Steve’s life, his mind goes quiet.

You’re aware of everyone else in the room, you know you’ll have to deal with the kids’ nosy questions later, but you don’t care. Steve needs you, and the way he’s clinging onto you as you hug tells you everything you need to know.

He’s barely holding it together, so you discretely shift so that the others can’t see as you attempt to piece him back together with your arms tightening around him and your fingers intertwining through his hair as well.

Your ribs scream in protest as you lean against the boy, but the pain reassures you that you are alive and sharing this pain with someone you’ve come to care deeply about.

“I’m here,” you whisper, feeling Steve’s body shake at the reassurance. “It’s just you and me right now, okay?”

He nods, still too scared to speak. The two of you remain interlocked in the kitchen you grew up in, surrounded by Will’s drawings and memories of early morning breakfasts with Jonathan, and Dustin watches from the kitchen table.

Lucas watches as well and shares a glance with your brother, who can only shake his head and sigh. He knows, sooner or later, that he’ll have to ask you about Steve, he’s never seen you like this before, not even with Jonathan, but for now he leaves you both alone.

When Hopper angrily hangs up the phone, Dustin uses it as an opportunity to distract himself. “They didn’t believe you, did they?”

“We’ll see,” Hopper sighs, tired.

“‘We’ll see’? We can’t just sit here while those things are loose!” Mike exclaims, his foot tapping nervously underneath the table.

The chief sighs again, now spotting you and Steve still holding each other in the corner. “Hey, Henderson and pretty boy, get a room. Mike, we stay here and we wait for help.”

Hearing your name, you finally break apart from Steve and send Hopper an embarrassed glare, clearing your throat. Steve clears his throat as well and takes several steps away from you. His cheeks flaming red.

“Did he call me pretty boy?” Steve whispers to you, but you shush him, instead walking over to Mike, who has now started to tap his foot even more aggressively.

Standing behind the boy, you rub his shoulder, unsure how to help the boy. You know he’s worried about Will and he’s always hated waiting almost as much as you do. At your touch, Mike turns his head to look up at you, and the fire that’s always been in his eyes has died.

You look around the table, it’s quiet. Max is playing with her fingernails, Lucas is staring at the table with tears in his eyes, and Dustin is watching as you try to comfort Mike. All the kids are in their own state of shock and grief. They’re too young for all of this.

Meanwhile, Steve hangs back by the corner, knowing that this is what you do best: you take care of people. He watches as you furrow your brows for a second, a slight quirk he’s picked up about you, and slowly he sees you piece together how to help the kids you love so dearly.

You start with leaning against the table, wedged between Dustin and Mike, and somehow–Steve has always wondered how you do this–you light up the cold room with warmth.

“I’m sorry you had to go through all of this by yourself,” you stroke Mike’s hair, it’s rare that you get to do this, but he remains numb to your touch. “Had I known any of this would happen, I would’ve made you more fudge brownies.”

Though it’s small, almost imperceptible, Mike lets out a tiny huff, a placeholder of a laugh.

At least it’s a start.

You whisper more words to him as Dustin leans against your back, grounded by your presence, and Max watches this with interested yet envious eyes. She still has yet to grow used to your kindness, to the love you share with the boys: a sibling relationship she’s never had before.

As you’re comforting Mike, his eyes wander towards the living room and suddenly he gets up. You watch, curious as to what he’s doing, as he grabs a cube and delicately rolls it around in his hand.

“Did you guys know that Bob was the original founder of Hawkins AV?”

At the mention of Bob’s name, you bring Dustin closer to you. With everything that’s happened tonight, the reminder of the man’s death fills you with raw, unfiltered grief. When you arrived at the Byers home and found a distraught Joyce, you knew.

Bob is dead, and he has taken all the kindness he shared with you. He was a sweet man, one who took you in without any question as soon as he started dating Joyce, a man who offered you rides to work and encouraged you to stop by his own job any time. The same man who brought the woman who is like a second mother to you, back to life.

Your heart breaks for Joyce, for Will and Jonathan and all the other kids.

Bob Newby truly was a superhero, everyone he ever interacted with came out a better person because of it. He never left anyone without a smile on their face, and now he’s gone.

Once you’ve managed to swallow down your grief, you voice from the kitchen, “I didn’t know that.”

Mike turns to you. “He petitioned the school to start it and everything, and then he had a fund-raiser for equipment. Mr. Clark learned everything from him.” There’s light in his voice as he approaches the table again, a spark as if the fire is trying to relight itself. “Pretty awesome, right?”

Dustin and Lucas nod, faint smiles on their own faces. “Yeah.”

Mike sets the cube down. “We can’t let him die in vain.”

You agree with him, but how could you possibly accomplish something like that>

“What do you want to do, Mike?” Dustin lifts his head up, frustrated. “The Chief’s right on this. We can’t stop those Demodogs on our own.”

“Demodogs?” Max finally speaks up.

You sigh, tired of hearing your brother’s explanation of his made up name. “Please don’t ask–”

“Demogorgon, dog. Demodog.” Your brother explains, and you pinch the bridge of your nose. “Demodogs. It’s like a compound… It’s like a play on words–”

“Okay!” You and Max say at once, cutting off his spiel.

“I mean, when it was just Dart, maybe…”

You snort at Dustin. “Tell that to my ribcage.”

The boy glares at you and Lucas takes over, reigning you both back in. “But there’s an army now.”

“Precisely,” Dustin sighs in defeat.

Mike, who has been quiet the entire conversation, realizes something. “His army.”

Steve looks around, confused. “What do you mean?”

“His army!” Mike faces everyone, and the fire behind his eyes now fully alive, and you know he’s come up with some genius plan like his sister always does. “Maybe if we stop him, we can stop his army too.”

Dustin and Lucas share a glance and seem to be understanding what Mike is saying, but you look to Steve, equally as lost as he is, before Mike runs out the room while the others follow.

“Any idea what that kid is saying?” The teen asks you, but you shake your head.

“On a good day, I understand maybe a quarter of what Mike says. However, with significant blood loss and no real meals in me, I’m afraid I have no fucking idea what’s happening.”

“Cool,” Steve steps closer to you and motions for you to guide the way. “Let’s follow, then.”

You find the kids in Will’s room, all standing over a picture that the boy drew. In it is a looming figure with four long limbs, its figure thin and haunting as it stalks over the picture. Seeing the drawing, you get an uneasy feeling.

“The doctor said it was like a virus, it infected him.” Mike is explaining, speaking so fast you can barely keep up as you and Steve stand in the doorway.

“What virus?” You ask, now standing next to the kids.

Mike hands you the picture. “The shadow monster, it got Will that day at the field.”

“And this virus… It’s connecting him to the tunnels?” Max seems to be following along better than you are, which is quite depressing.

“The tunnels, monsters, the Upside Down, everything.”

Something within your stomach drops, the familiar weight of guilt follows it. “Will is still connected to the Upside Down?”

“Whoa, slow down,” Steve steps in now, sensing your panic, and tries to rectify the situation. “Let’s all just slow down.”

Mike groans. “The shadow monster is inside everything, and if the vines feel something like pain, then so does Will.”

Again, guilt throws itself against you with all its weight, and you feel each thud against your body like a hammer feels a nail.

Lucas nods. “And so does Dart.”

“Like what Mr. Clark taught us. The hive mind.” Mike follows.

You’re silent, staring at the picture still in your hands.

Steve crosses his arms. “Hive mind?”

“A collective consciousness, a super organism.” You hear Dustin clarify, but it’s all beginning to blur together for you.

All you can think is that you’re the reason Will has become entangled in all of this, in alternate dimensions, infected with a monster so powerful that it can create vast tunnels underneath your feet and monsters bred to kill.

Mike is on a roll now, it’s all clicking together. “And this is the thing that controls everything. It’s the brain–”

“Like the mind flayer,” Dustin realizes, which causes both Lucas and Mike to stop in their tracks.

It seems the boys have figured it all out, then.

And it seems to you that old scars will never fade, not in the way that they should.

Swallowing down your nausea and tears and guilt, you finally speak. “Explain everything to me.”

–

Dustin throws the DnD book onto the Byers’ kitchen table, beginning to explain everything as everyone gathers around.

You stand next to him, Steve to your right, and watch as your brother commands the room as if he was born to do so. As he explains, you look around and everyone. Jonathan stands next to Lucas, facing across from you, and Nancy finds herself standing to your left, worried.

“Oh my god, none of this is real,” Hopper is already over the entire situation, which annoys you. “This is a kid’s game.”

“I’m sorry, but those Demodogs that just attacked us are logical to you?” You snap at the cop, completely baffled that he for some reason decided to draw the line at a DnD reference rather than literal demons from another dimension.

Hopper narrows his eyes at you, but before he can say anything, Jonathan shrugs his shoulders. “Y/N has a point, you know.”

“Okay, before we all start fighting, I just want to point out that this,” Dustin points to the book on the table. “Is a manuel, and it’s not for kids. Unless you know something that we don’t, this is the best metaphor–”

“Analogy.” Lucas interrupts.

“Analogy, that’s what you’re worried about?” You grab at Dustin’s jacket to try and settle him down, but he’s angry and annoyed and you know it’s been a long day for everyone. “Fine. An analogy for understanding whatever the hell this is!”

Nancy sees you struggling with the boy and tries to step in. “Okay, so this mind flamer thing–”

“Flayer,” you gently correct.

“What does it want?”

Dustin bites his lip. “To conquer us, basically. It believes it’s the master race.”

Steve, who is leaning next to Dustin and you, snaps his finger. “Like the Germans?”

“Uh… The Nazis?” Your brother looks at you, silently urging you to shut the teen up, and you pinch your nose again and sigh.

“Oh, buddy.” You loop your arm through his and pat Steve’s shoulder. “Let’s just listen, okay?”

Steve tries to say more but you hold your finger up, indicating that you won’t listen to whatever he’s about to say, and he rolls his eyes at you but rests his free hand against the one you have on his arm.

However, when Lucas announces that you could all be dealing with the end of the world, Steve lets out a dry laugh and tries to pull away from you, freaking out. “That’s great! That’s really great, jesus!”

You pull him back by the arm, forcing him to stand next to you and calm down, and he doesn’t try to fight it. Though he’s scared out of his fucking mind and in over his head, he listens to your silent command and comes back to you. Once he’s still, you unwrap your arm from his and bring that hand to the back of his neck, playing with the baby hairs there to try and soothe him.

Steve leans into your touch, his shoulders start to relax, and you know he’s slowly calming down.

Jonathan sees this interaction and catches your eye, and when he has your attention, he flashes you a knowing smirk as he mouths, friendly, aren’t we?

You narrow your eyes and subtly point between him and Nancy, mouthing back, you’re one to talk, which effectively shuts Jonathan up and he diverts his eyes again, going back to focusing on what Dustin and the others are saying.

“No, no fireballs,” Dustin is explaining to Hopper. “Instead, you–uh. You summon an undead army and… Uh, because… Zombies, ya know? They don’t–uh, have brains and the–the mind flayer, it, uh, likes brains.”

When your brother sees you shaking your head in disappointment and Hopper’s barely controlled anger, he quickly finishes with, “It’s just a game.”

You nudge his shoulder with yours. “You did well explaining, buddy.”

Dustin gives you a weak thumbs up as Hopper angrily throws the book down. “What the hell are we doing here?”

“I thought we were waiting for your military backup.” Dustin retorts, and you quickly raise your hand for a high five, which he gladly accepts.

Hopper sees this and rolls his eyes. “We are!”

“But even if they come, how are they gonna stop this? You can’t just shoot this with guns!” Mike quips, and you give him a high five as well.

“You don’t know that! We don’t know anything!” Hopper roars, and it takes everything within you not to flinch at his raised voice.

“We do know, actually.” You say, voice quiet but stern as you try to steady your heartbeat. You’ve never, ever been able to hear a man yelling at you without some form of panic clawing at your chest. “Ask Nancy about the guns. We fought a fully grown Demodog last year, you seem to conveniently forget that.”

Hopper clenches his jaw. “Every time I start to like you, you piss me off again.”

“It’s a skill.”

Everyone begins to argue again, Hopper with you while Dustin, Lucas, and Mike take your side to try and reason with the cop, before a frail, broken voice silences you all.

“They’re right.” Joyce stumbles from her room, her face still wet with tears as grief overtakes her.

“Mrs. Byers,” you breathe out, immediately walking over to the woman to stand by her side, but she gently pushes you away.

“We have to kill it.” Anger slowly spills into her voice. “I want to kill it.”

Hopper joins your side now, the two of you surrounding the woman. “Me too, Joyce. Okay? But how do we do that? We don’t exactly know what we’re dealing with here.”

“We don’t know what could happen to Will,” you urge, understanding Joyce’s anger but terrified of how it may affect her son.

“If anyone knows how to destroy this thing, it’s Will.” Mike begins to walk over to the boy, who is still knocked out cold on the couch. “He’s connected to it. He’ll know its weakness.”

Everyone stands in the living room now, and dread encases its hand around your throat. You don’t want to make Will any more involved in this than he needs to be, he’s been through too much.

Max cocks her head. “I thought we couldn’t trust him anymore. That he’s a spy for the mind flayer now.”

“We can always trust Will.” There’s an edge to your voice, and Jonathan has to grab your hand to steady you.

Mike nods, understanding what you’re trying to voice. “I know, Y/N. We can always trust him, and he can’t spy if he doesn’t know where he is.”

–

Somehow, Steve gets paired up with Nancy to cover the inside of the Byers’ shed with tarps.

One minute Steve had been standing behind you in the living room as Mike explained his plan, and the next minute he was being auctioned off to join his ex in a small shed while you got to happily team up with Jonathan and his mom.

It was unfair, really.

While he’s moping about his luck, Nancy hesitantly looks at Steve, clearly also as equally uncomfortable in the silence. She lingers as Steve begins to hang up another tarp and she tears a piece of tape for him, waiting.

She watches as Steve’s body stretches the length of the wall and realizes that this is the first time they’ve been alone together since their conversation at school, and that his languid movements are foreign to her.

Nancy hasn’t seen him so at ease in a long, long time.

She thinks about how you’d been with him these last few days while she had been with Jonathan, and she wonders what else may have possibly changed in such a short amount of time.

“Hey,” she finally says, the silence clawing at her. “What you did, um… Helping the kids, that was really cool.”

Steve still looks at Nancy with such sincerity and warmth, something that makes her stomach twist with guilt. He doesn’t know what she’s done just yet, and she doesn’t know if he has a right to even care at all.

“Yeah,” he exhales, breaking the eye contact first. “Those little shits are real trouble, ya know?”

Nancy finds herself laughing, grateful he seems open to talking to her. “Believe me, I know.”

“It’s a miracle that Y/N survived so long on her own.” Steve says absentmindedly, returning to hanging up the tarp.

Hearing your name causes Nancy’s stomach to twist again. Steve may not have pieced everything together just yet, but she knows that you have. You’ve always been able to read people well, too well, even.

Jonathan wasn’t yours and she wasn’t Steve’s, yet Nancy feels an overwhelming sense of guilt for the two of you.

“It’s nice that you were there for her,” Nancy avoids looking at Steve again.

“Y/N has been there for everyone else, so I figured it was time that someone was finally there for her?” He shakes his head, unsure what he’s even saying. “I just… I wanted to help her.”

Nancy doesn’t say anything, she only nods and continues tearing off more pieces of tape.

You’re too good, everyone knows this, and sometimes Nancy finds herself resenting you for it, even though none of it is your fault.

–

Jonathan tears down another bedsheet from the clothing line and tosses it into the growing pile of sheets and bedding in your arms; he yanks them down, you catch, and then he cuts the lines with the knives you loaned him.

“You sure this is gonna work?” Jonathan asks his mom, who has joined the two of you to collect her own pile of sheets to cover the shed.

Joyce nods, the familiar frantic look in her eyes from last year is now back. “He knew who I was. He’s still in there. It’s gonna work, it has to.”

You peek from behind the pile of cloth you’re holding. “Who knows, maybe we can finally prove whether or not Freud’s theory of consciousness is correct.”

Jonathan doesn’t understand what you mean, but Joyce sends you a grateful smile, appreciative that you’re trying to remain optimistic despite the situation, and then leaves before her son can question the plan once more.

As soon as the two of you are alone, Jonathan puts your switchblade in his pocket and then faces you, not wasting a second to finally have you to himself. “Okay, tell me everything I missed while I was gone.”

His eager curiosity makes you smile. “I appreciate the enthusiasm, but aren’t we on a time limit?”

“I think we can spare a few minutes, bug.”

“Fine, but at least grab some of these sheets so I can actually look at you while I talk.”

Jonathan laughs and does as he’s told, grabbing some of the cloth you’re holding and lessening the weight of it for you. Once he’s able to see your face, he smiles warmly at you. “Hi,”

“Hi, bee.” The greeting drips from your mouth like pure honey, and with two simple words, Jonathan can feel himself finally begin to relax.

“So,” he wiggles his eyebrows at you. “Go on.”

You take a deep breath, knowing that what you’re about to tell Jonathan will remove the carefree smile on his face. He’ll only blame himself, and you hate the responsibility he seems to feel for you.

“The only major thing, well… Besides the Demodogs, is that I spilled milk all over Billy, the guy you punched at the Halloween party.”

Jonathan gapes at you. “What?”

“Yeah, it was kinda awesome, honestly. He was being a bitch, accusing me and Steve of getting together to piss you and Nance off, and he was just being an overall creep, so… I spilled milk on him to get him to shut up so that Steve wouldn’t end up knocking the guy out.”

“Wait, Steve was there?” He tries to keep his voice level, but even Jonathan can hear the underlying hurt within his voice.

He’s not sure why the hurt is there, or why the thought of Steve being the one now protecting you sends a punch to his throat.

“Yeah,” you frown at him, confused by his sudden shift in mood. “He was with me in the lunchroom, wanted to know where you and Nance had run off to.”

Jonathan swallows. “I’m glad he was there, bug.”

And he is, he knows he is, but he also knows that it’s getting harder and harder to ignore the shift that has come between the two of you. How it was only thirty minutes ago that you had wrapped your arm around Steve’s, not Jonathan’s.

He clears his throat. “So, about Steve…”

“What about him?” You feign ignorance, but Jonathan sees the blush that has started to spread across your face.

“You’re blushing, bug.” It hurts him to tease, but he knows he has to. Jonathan has to play the role he had been given when he was twelve and had met you that day on Nancy’s front porch.

The same girl he slept with last night, who he has come to love with such devotion that he still struggles to accept within himself.

They haven’t talked about it, at least not yet, but all the unsaid truths between you and Jonathan hang over him. He can feel the lines and threads and strings all closing in on you two, and he knows you can also sense it as well.

“It’s nothing, bee.” You start walking towards the shed, uncomfortable now. You don’t want Jonathan’s teasing, not when it comes to Steve; it’s too painful, you still haven’t quite come to terms with your newfound feelings for the boy.

Not when you haven’t laid your feelings for Jonathan to rest, yet.

It wouldn’t be fair to Steve.

Jonathan steps in front of you, blocking your path. He feels as if he’s about to lose you, and for the first time since he’s met you, he doesn’t know how to make you stay. “Hey, I’m sorry. It’s just… I know you.”

His words burn.

“Let’s just get back to the shed–”

“Bug,” he blocks your path again. He’s not ready to lose you just yet, but he knows he will soon. It’s inevitable. “I know you, and when you’re around Steve, you just… You’re different, a–a good different, and–”

“Jonathan, I really don’t want to talk about this,” you plead, but he hears the at least not with you that goes unsaid. “Why don’t you focus on your newly formed relationship with Nancy, okay?”

Jonathan stumbles over his feet. “You–you know?”

“I know you,” you echo his words from moments ago, with its melancholy and all.

He sighs, steps to the side, and lets you go.

It’s quiet after that.

–

In the shed, everyone busies themselves with their tasks.

You, Steve, and Lucas run around with nail guns and tape for those who need it. The rest of the kids work as a unit, helping one another with covering every inch of wall they can find. Meanwhile, Nancy wraps newspaper around the poles while Jonathan carries Will through the door.

Seeing Will, limp within Jonathan’s arms, only reminds you of the dead body that had been pulled from the quarry last year.

Only this time it really is Will.

Together, you and Jonathan gently place the boy in the chair and tie him. You ignore the way your heart clenches as you knot the cords together; you’re doing this to save him. Joyce prepares the medicine needed to knock Will out, in case anything happens, and as you watch, Lucas and Mike switch on the overhead lamps, blinding you.

“Christ,” you mumble, holding your hand up to shield your eyes from the light.

“It works,” Mike looks at you, hopeful. “It’s gonna work.”

Hopper steps forward, facing everyone. “If you aren’t related to the Byers family, get out.” While everyone begins to leave, you and Mike remain where you are. When Hopper sees this, he frowns. “What did I just say?”

Dustin and Steve linger in the doorway, both silently asking you what the plan is, and you give them a slight nod to indicate that it’s okay. You’ll join them later, right now Will needs you and you sure as hell aren’t leaving Mike and Jonathan alone to deal with this.

“Y/N is family, Hop.” Joyce stands next to you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

You smile at her before facing the chief. “I’m staying.”

“Me, too.” Mike echos, standing his own ground against the man, and you refrain from giving him another high five for his bravery.

Better not to upset Hopper too much more.

The man in question groans, too tired to argue. “Fine, you two can stay, but only because I know that if I don’t let Henderson stay then Jonathan will probably have a panic attack or something.”

Jonathan shrugs. “Probably.”

Dustin rushes over to you and gives you a tight hug. “Be careful.”

“I will,” you kiss the top of his hat, catching Steve’s eye in the process. “Take care of him, please?”

Steve nods, without any hesitation to do as you’ve asked. “Of course.”

And with that, the door to the shed closes as the last of the group leaves.

It’s silent after that, and you take a second to admire the work everyone did. The shed is completely unrecognizable, and the lights will only further limit Will’s vision. A part of you truly believes that this plan could work, but you’ve long since stopped letting your hope get the better of you.

“Alright, you ready?” Hopper looks over at Joyce, holding the ammonia needed to wake Will up.

“Yeah,” the woman crosses her arms, and you want to reach out and hold her.

Everyone is quiet as Hopper crouches in front of Will and dabs some ammonia onto a cotton ball. Then, slowly, he brings it up to the boy’s face and waits for him to inhale. When he does, Will’s eyes snap open and he inhales so sharply that you’re worried he’s hurt himself.

You stand in between Mike and Jonathan, and seeing the pure fear on Will’s face brings tears to your eyes. He reminds you of a deer, small and frail, with eyes so full of fear that it makes you ache.

Will’s eyes dart around the room, and when he notices that he’s tied to the chair, he begins to tug at the cords. “What–what is this? Why am I tied up?”

“Will, we just wanna talk to you,” Joyce softly tells him, now eye level with the boy as she does her best to calm him down. “We’re not gonna hurt you.”

“Where am I?” The fear that had once been in Will’s voice is gone, now replaced with an anger that seems so foreign to associate with the boy.

Hopper joins now, showing him the picture of the mind flayer that he drew. “You recognize this?”

Will shakes his head and looks over at you, now realizing that you’re there, and you force yourself to look away. He’s always been the sweetest boy, but he killed so many innocent people today, even if he hadn’t meant to.

You trust Will, you do, but you remind yourself that the boy in front of you isn’t really him.

“We wanna help you,” Joyce tries to reassure him again. “But to do that, we have to understand how to kill it.”

At the mention of killing, Will’s eyes widen as more anger seeps through him, now shouting at his mother, “Why am I tied up? Why am I tied up? Why am I tied up?”

He begins to thrash around, throwing his head back against the wall as he repeatedly screams and begs to be let go. The lights are now flickering and immediately you draw Mike into your chest, trying to mask your own tears as you comfort him.

Jonathan clings behind you, his arms wrapped around your waist as he buries his face into your shoulder, and blindly you reach behind yourself so you can hold him as well. When you feel his tears spill against your skin, you wrap your arms tighter around Mike and cry.

Will continues to scream, becoming more and more violent, and something demonic seems to crawl into his vocal chords as he screams.

You hold Mike and Jonathan tighter against you, doing everything you can to be there for the boys. You knew this would be difficult, but as the lights continue to flicker and Will’s pale face quickly becomes paler with every plea, you feel weak.

With Jonathan behind you and Mike in front of you, both boys clinging onto you as sobs wrack your own body, it becomes unclear who is being held up and who is the one holding.

Hopper has his own arms wrapped around Will, and slowly, miraculously, his pleas begin to fade off. Exhaustion seems to overtake the boy, as he starts to mumble more than scream, and with every exhaled breath, the light’s flickering settles down.

Finally, silence.

The only sound in the shed is Will’s labored breaths, alongside your own.

Joyce sits in the chair placed in front of Will, takes a moment to find her words, and then asks the boy, “Do you know what March 22nd is?”

You do, it’s Will’s birthday, and you listen as Joyce talks about his eighth birthday and how she had gotten him a giant box of crayons and he had used all the colors to draw a rainbow ship. With every word, more despair and love fills the woman’s voice as she reflects on how proud she is of him, how much she loves him, and you have to turn away for a moment to wipe at your eyes.

After Joyce has finished her story, you all see something within Will. As if he’s coming back to himself, his eyes no longer holding the malic from earlier.

Jonathan detangles himself from you and wipes his eyes as well, taking a deep breath to calm himself. “Do you remember the day dad left?”

You turn around, already knowing the story that he’s about to tell, and you press a soft kiss to Mike’s forehead before joining Jonathan at Will’s side. He can’t be alone when he retells this story, because he hadn’t been alone when it happened.

“We stayed up all night building Castle Byers,” Jonathan reflects, nudging you as you crouch down in front of Will as well. “It was Y/N’s idea to build it just the way you drew it.”

“You loved the idea,” your voice cracks, but you try to hide it so that you don’t scare the boy.

You remember how Will’s face lit up when you surprised him with the idea. He hadn’t left his room in hours, blaming himself for Lonnie leaving, and Jonathan had shown up at your window, in tears as he confessed that he didn’t know how to help Will.

After yanking the teen into your room and sitting him down on your bed, you had told him that Will simply needed someone there for him, to remind him that he was good and lovely and that everything that Lonnie had ever said was wrong.

Later that day, the two of you showed up to the hardware store; two young teens with only pocket change as currency, and you’d bought all the supplies needed for Castle Byers.

“And it took so long because you were so bad at hammering.” The fondness of the memory causes Jonathan to laugh, and you do so as well as you remember just how many times Will had accidentally hit his fingers rather than the nail. “You missed the nail every time.”

“I thought you’d lose a finger, honestly.” You add, which Joyce laughs at.

Jonathan continues. “And then it started raining, but we stayed out there anyway. All of us were sick for like a week after that… But we just had to finish it, didn’t we? We just had to.”

You squeeze the teen’s hand and lean in closer to Will, sensing that it’s now your turn to speak. “Do you know what my nickname is for you?”

Will slowly nods, his eyes going to Jonathan and then back to you, indicating that he understands he’s your little bee.

“Little bee, that’s right.” It isn’t difficult to reminisce on your favorite memory with the boy, it comes to you immediately. “After we all had gotten the cold, do you remember the awful flu that Jonathan and Dustin somehow got like a week afterwards?”

Jonathan snorts, remembering how annoyed he had been for being so sick for so long. He had missed two whole weeks of school, and you were the one who had to bring his assignments to him and help with his homework.

“That weekend, our moms decided that it made more sense to send Jonathan to my house so he and Dustin could quarantine together, so I stayed at your house and we spent the entire weekend alone. Just you and me.”

You smile softly, the memory fresh and warm like an early spring day. You love Jonathan and Dustin endlessly, but being alone with Will was special. A rare occasion that the two of you always relished in. “That weekend, we watched all your favorite movies and I taught you how to bake the cookies you love so much… You taught me how to draw, and together we were happy.”

Your voice breaks again, the warmth of the memory slightly stings as you gaze into Will’s sunken eyes. Two years ago you had all of Will, his happiness genuine and his heart kind, and now you’re terrified you’ll never have that version of him back ever again.

Jonathan notices your hesitancy and strokes your face gently. “Go on,”

You grab the hand on your face and kiss it, grateful for the strength he’s loaning you. “We–we were almost sad when Dustin and Jonathan got better, because we had enjoyed our little weekend getaway.”

Joyce lets out a shaky breath as she reaches for you as well, her hand landing against your shoulder, a place she has long since inhabited for herself whenever she wants to express her love for you. She knows how fiercely you love her sons, and she remembers all the laughter and joy she heard that weekend within her home, a home that had long since stopped being warm for her.

“That weekend…” You force down the sobs that threaten to spill over. You have to finish the story, to remind Will of who he is again. He has to come back to you. “That weekend, you became my little bee.”

As soon as you say Will’s nickname, you lean away from the boy and try to collect yourself. You’ve said all that you physically can for now, and you hope it was enough. You hope, more than anything, that it will be enough to bring Will home again.

Mike steps forward now, and Will turns his head to him. “Do you remember the first day that we met?”

You notice the tear that falls down the boy’s face, and you lean your head against Jonathan’s shoulder in exhaustion as you listen to his story. It’s one you’ve never heard before, and it’s rare to see Mike so vulnerable with his feelings.

“It was… It was the first day of kindergarten. I knew nobody. I had no friends, and–and I just felt so alone and so scared but–” More tears come. “I saw you on the swings and you were alone, too. You were just swinging by yourself.”

Jonathan’s hand finds your hair as you both listen, and you know he’s thinking the same as you. How finding your person in a world so vast and lonely can bring you to life.

“I just walked up to you and… I asked. I asked if you wanted to be my friend, and you said yes.” Mike swallows, now diverting his eyes away from everyone. “You said yes, and it was the best thing I’ve ever done.”

Mike finishes with more tears, and you walk over to him so that he can hide his face against you. You know he wants to be alone right now, that he hates how exposed his emotions are, and as soon as you’ve wrapped your arms around the boy he buries his face in your chest and softly cries.

You do your best to shield him from the world.

Meanwhile, Joyce tries again to reach Will. “Will, baby. If you’re in there, just please… Please talk to us. Please, honey, can you do that for me? I love you so much.”

Something seems to collapse within Will, he fights back tears as his breathing becomes labored again. For a moment, you think it’s worked, that he’ll finally come back and you’ll have your little bee again.

“Let me go.” Will demands again, and you feel everyone’s heart in the room drop.

It’s quiet for several moments, but there’s a faint tapping that you hear. You don’t know where it’s coming from, but you’re sure that it hadn’t been there moments ago. You look around the room and see Hopper doing the same.

When your eyes meet his, he tilts his head at you as if to ask if you hear it too. You nod, and Hopper looks around once more before he freezes.

“Out,” Hopper suddenly orders, leaving no time for anyone to argue as he flings the shed door open and marches towards the Byers home.

–

“What happened?” Dustin immediately asks as soon as you enter the house.

“We think we found something,” you inform him, pointing to Hopper, who has now sat down at the kitchen table with a pen and paper.

Everyone gathers around him as he starts to scribble a series of lines and dots. “I think he’s talking, just not with words.

“What is that?” Steve asks, lost as to how lines and dots are so important.

“Morse code,” all the boys answer in unison.

Steve leans over you and whispers, “Why do they always do that?”

“You get used to it. Now shush.”

Hopper spells out the letters he remembers Will tapping. “H-E-R-E.”

“Here.” Everyone says out loud.

“Will is still in there. He’s talking to us.” The chief says, looking at Joyce.

Your eyes meet Jonathan’s and an idea comes to you. “If the memories we’re telling him are working, then what about music?”

Hopper thinks for a moment, but Jonathan has already run to his room to grab his stereo and cassette tapes, understanding exactly what you’re thinking.

A plan forms from there.

You, Jonathan, Mike, and Joyce all take turns telling Will stories while his favorite song plays. Should I Stay or Should I Go? Plays within the shed as memories fill it with warmth and Hopper taps out on a walkie everything that Will taps.

Inside the house, the kids, Nancy, and Steve all listen to the walkie and write down the morse code to decipher what Will is saying.

Jonathan tells him about real music, Mike recounts the time Will saved the party during one of their campaigns, Joyce talks about a kind moment from his childhood, and you tell him about the wonderful drawing he made for your birthday. The one of you, Jonathan, and the party fighting a dragon.

“You drew me as a princess and Jonathan laughed when he saw it. Said it was very fitting.” You say, nervously watching as Will frantically taps against his chair. “When you gave me the picture, I think I almost squeezed you to death when I hugged you. It’s still the best birthday gift I’ve ever been given–”

The sound of a telephone ringing cuts you off, and Will snaps his head up, no longer paying any attention to you.

You freeze, now realizing that the music has shut off. Will has to have heard it, and you know he’ll figure out where you guys are. His eyes droop shut and you slowly back away into Jonathan, who grabs you and pulls you even further away. He’s tense, you both are.

“Hey, can you hear me?” Joyce tries to draw Will back in, but he’s starting to pant as his eyes flutter rapidly underneath his eyelids.

“It knows. It knows where we are.” Hopper says as Joyce reaches for the sedative.

With one fluid movement, she injects Will and immediately he knocks out. His head falls forward, his breathing now back to normal. You pull at Joyce so that she faces you. “Did we knock him out in time?”

She doesn’t say anything, and Hopper runs outside while Jonathan and Mike join. The two of you stand in the shed alone, silent, both filled with dread.

Jonathan comes running back in. “They’re coming!”

“Shit!” You scramble to help him untie Will and you and Hopper use your knives to speed up the process. Your hands are shaking, but there’s no time to steady them.

Once Will is untied, Jonathan throws him over his shoulder and runs to the house. Joyce and Hopper follow and you grab Mike’s hand to make sure you don’t lose him. As you run, you hear the familiar screeches of the Demodogs and the hair on the back of your neck stands up.

They’re close.

Inside, you take the lead and shove everyone out of the kitchen. “Get to the living room. Now!”

“Y/N, what’s going on?” Steve is at your side now, his voice soft with fear.

You’re about to reassure him that it’ll be okay, to lie through your teeth, but then you see the kids by the windows and groan. “Get away from the windows!”

They scurry away and Hopper steps in, holding a shotgun that he offers to Jonathan. “Do you know how to use this?”

Jonathan looks around as if Hopper has asked someone else. “What?”

“Can you use this?”

While Jonathan stumbles over his words, Nancy confidently walks over. “I can.”

Hopper nods and tosses her the gun before turning to you, “I saw the switchblade earlier. Use it.”

You flick your wrist and extend the blades, doing as you’re told.

Everyone gathers around, with an assortment of weapons, and you get the insane urge to laugh. Of course you’re back here a year later, standing in Jonathan’s living room as monsters from another dimension threaten your loved ones.

Jonathan stands in front of Joyce while you stand in front of Dustin, knives raised to your face. Steve stands in front of you, his back facing you as he wields his bat, ready to defend you and your brother.

You make sure to keep an eye on Lucas and Max, who are to your left, trusting that Nancy has Mike as she and Hopper raise their guns.

All eyes are on the windows, no one says anything as you all wait. With every passing second, the howls and screeches outside get louder. Then, a loud screech comes from your right, and everyone turns around.

“What are they doing?” Nancy asks no one in particular, her voice shaky but her aim firm and strong.

You see the bushes rustling through the windows, and another snarl comes from the other side that causes you all to scream. There’s commotion outside, a series of screeches and thuds, and your body tenses, preparing itself to fight.

Suddenly, the screeching stops, and through the window a giant body gets thrown.

You scream and Steve shoves you and Dustin further behind him, but your brother realizes before you do what’s happened. “Holy shit.”

The Demodog lays motionless on the floor, its body limp, and you realize with a relieved sigh that it’s dead.

“Is it dead?” Max asks, as you all begin to approach its corpse.

“It is,” you confirm, too scared to ask the question of what the fuck killed it.

As Hopper pokes at the Demodog with his shoe, the front door creaks open, and everyone turns in alarm with weapons at the ready. The lock turns, and you feel a familiar sense of static. It’s been a year since you’ve felt the sensation, a year since the girl who could control things with her mind disappeared and left her memory behind.

It’s El.

She walks in, and you drop your knife in shock when you see that it’s her.

She’s grown so much since you last saw her, her hair is longer and she’s gotten taller. Her clothes are all black, her eyes smudged with makeup. Mike steps forward, you see the way his eyes fill with adoration.

You let out a soft cry, all the guilt and grief you’ve felt over the girl finally lifts, and you can breathe again.

She’s back.

El is alive.

-

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[llamagoddessofficial]

As a scuba diver I can confirm how quickly a peaceful dive can turn scary; on a sea dive I was so caught up in the moment that I completely forgot to watch my oxygen gauge. Thankfully my buddy was there to let me use his air supply and take me to the surface.

What would the siren boys do if MC got into danger while diving, such as very low oxygen? Maybe MC was pulled by the current and drifted away from other divers? Would they help her or take advantage of the situation?

Sans: Her life entirely depends how serious the 'trouble' in question is.

He'll save her if it's a very easy problem for him to solve. Like... if she's near the surface but runs out of air, he can rush her up the last couple of metres. If she drifts away from her friends and is struggling hard against the current, he can loop her arms around his neck and swim her back to them. Things that are emergencies to her, but slight inconveniences to him, he'll help with - especially since saving her life is a very easy way to get a LOT of favour with her. He likes the way she looks at him after he saves her. Beautiful, breathless, exhausted, staring like for a moment she adores him as much as he adores her.

However... a more complex issue? He'd let her drown. Maybe she's too far away from the surface and taking her straight upward wouldn't be safe. Maybe she's entered a state of panic and is making things worse for herself and he can't convince her to hold onto him. Maybe, even, she's in trouble but she simply hasn't seen him. If she never knew he was there she wouldn't be upset he didn't help.

He'll watch. It's just a little bit of discomfort. Then? They can be together forever.

Red: Come on. It's our boy. Our respect women juice chugging world champ - of course he'll rescue her, no matter what.

Her dive buddies definitely recount the story to her. Red was goofing off like he always does, nipping and shoving people he doesn't like, making it clear he's the 'alpha' around here. But suddenly, something about him flips... something in his disposition instantly changes. He becomes completely serious, and beelines into the near distance.

... And it's only once he's with her that everyone else notices she's silently struggling. They wouldn't have known to help if Red hadn't drawn attention to her.

He acts silly and stupid. But he's always paying attention to his mate, even when far away, using his incredible senses to keep tabs. He can sense her heartbeat with his electroreception, hear her breathing in the regulator, smell her blood in her veins. He's much smarter than he acts, and if the situation gets messy, there's not much better help underwater than a massive aggressive shark who'll move mountains to keep her safe.

Skull: Surprisingly, he'll do his absolute best to save her.

You'd expect the big lug to be the one actively pulling her down. But Skull doesn't really have a plan, so to speak, with his beloved little diver, he isn't plotting her death like Sans. He just wants to be around her; he wants to court her, show her what a good mate he'll be, show her pretty rocks and gifts, win her love and pull her back no matter how many times she tries to swim away from him. So it doesn't really matter what's happening - if Skull sees her struggling, he just sees his mate in distress, and he wants to rescue her. He doesn't like seeing her in visible pain or terror.

He might be delayed in helping if she's under the effects of nitrogen narcosis, because that just makes you act silly and drunk, so he wouldn't actually know anything was wrong. But as soon as he notices something off (she takes out her regulator, passes out, etc) he'll do everything he can to save her. He's a good boy underneath all those scars and deadly tentacles.

[vampiricgf]

VARIOUS STORMS & SAINTS

friends dad leon kennedy x f!reader

wc : 2.5k+

warnings : graphic description of animal injury (the animal is fine tho), blood, age gap (he's older and reader is in their twenties), mention of bad family life, intoxication, car sex, semi public, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie

not really written with a specific leon in mind but he's def late thirties-mid forties in my head. also the whole animal injury thing is a method I used to illustrate his projection onto the reader, it's not there for no reason but it is immediately beneath the cut so beware

He knows he’s not some kind of cradle robber, knows there’s really not that many years between you two but it may as well be an eternity. An ocean of time stretching out between your two selves, heavy and sticky as molasses. You’re vibrant in that way that only twenty somethings are, like theres this sheen of iridescence coating your skin. Just like that evening in the rain.

The first time you really met properly he’d run over a cat. It was grizzly, horrible. He’d been driving you back to your apartment after learning you had car trouble on the way over earlier to spend time with his daughter, your little hatchback left sitting forlornly in his driveway to be towed to a shop the next day as he wasn’t about to let a young girl potentially get stranded on the side of the road while it was getting dark. “I don’t want to have to pick you up, buddy,” he muttered, assessing the bodily damage while the creature spasmed pitifully and the rain reached a high roar.

Your bag slid from your shoulder as you crouched beside him, one hand pressing down into the mud to steady yourself. “I’ll pick him up. If you drive.” 

He’s not sure but the look on his face must’ve betrayed the small sliver of hope he had that the animal could be saved. 

You two worked efficiently, bundling the cat as best you could onto an improvised plastic bag stretcher, lifting from underneath and burying your hands even further in mud in an effort to make the transition smoother. It had mewed pathetically, one paw working the air in a feeble attempt at pushing the pain away. It was odd to feel such sudden, deep kinship with a cat.

“You know where there’s a vet?” he’d asked you after fumbling to get behind the wheel of the car while acutely aware of your presence in a newfound way. You were his daughters friend from community college, just being helpful, so he waved his tension off as worry for the little creature in your lap. 

“Yeah,” you said, clearly trying to recall, “Near the dentists place by the supermarket, my parents always took our cat there.” 

He’d said something to affirm he heard you, pulling away with the wipers on full blast, forcefully slicing through the deluge sheeting the windshield. Doing his best to drive smoothly, so as not to cause the cat anymore pain. 

“How’s he doing?”

It had stopped whimpering in your lap, instead panting gutterally. In between flashes of streetlight he could see the blood seeping into your clothes as the little plastic bag could no longer contain the sheer volume on it’s surface. You didn’t acknowledge it at all, didn’t express any discomfort or disgust. 

“He’ll be alright, he just needs to get stitched up.”

“I didn’t even see him,” He couldn’t help the explanation pouring from his lips, suddenly very focused on making sure you didn’t think of him poorly because of this. 

“It’s okay,” you said, looking down in your lap while your hands hovered over the cat, “it happens sometimes. Not your fault.”

Thankfully he found the vets office quickly, killing the ignition in record time to get out and wrench open the passenger door, ushering you and the wet bundle in your arms to the front door. The receptionist seemed to be unimpressed with the urgency, gesturing to you both to wait while she scurried behind a door, murmuring voices barely leaking past the threshold. 

The veterinarian that stepped out was a small man, older with wire rimmed glasses. He opened the door to an examination room fully, waving you two inside. 

“He’s been hit by a car,” you said, beating him to it as you gingerly laid the animal down, allowing Leon to see the full extent of the gore staining your clothes. It looked like some of the blood had even dripped and run down between your thighs, staining the jean material in almost lewdly directed streaks.

He assessed the cat fairly quickly, leaving you two to stand in awkward idleness as Leon tried not to linger too long on the sight of you. 

“The injuries look worse than they are,” he spoke, turing to eye the two of you, “does the cat belong to you?” 

“No,” he spoke for the first time, clearing his throat before continuing, “I, uh, hit him on the side of the road.” 

The older man gave him a level look before speaking. “Poor thing, lucky though you two brough him here quickly at least. We’ll get him fixed up fine, hopefully he’s microchipped.” 

Walking out through reception Leon was aware how insane it looked, a young girl practically drenched in blood walking out as if nothing abnormal had occured. He didn’t like the image of it. Didn’t like the forced recollection of all the other times he’d seen some unnamed women soaked in carnage. You practically wore an apron of the stuff.

In the car there were spots, about the size of a silver dollar, on the passengers seat and the familiar scent of metal hung suspended in the air so heavily he could almost taste it. 

You sat in silence, staring ahead with all the acute silence of a shock victim. Your skin had a semi sheen of sweat on it mixed with the rainwater, catching the light in an almost tantalizing way as it glittered against the exposed skin of your neck and chest.

He remembers feeling cold as he started the car back up, resumed the path to your place in heavy silence. 

Rounding the corner back onto the street where you told him you lived he spoke again. 

“It is my fault. I just didn’t see him.”

~

His fascination only grew from that restless night spent tossing and turning thinking of you, poor pretty girl all drowned in blood. How unemotional you’d been. A part of him recognized the appeal was that he was projecting himself onto you in no small part, suddenly ascribing to you certain characteristics he possessed. He knew from the vauge talks with his daughter that you had some trouble in your background, maybe a not so great upbringing or bad boyfriends, things like that. 

It made him feel protective of you all of a sudden, you whom he really only properly paid attention to that night for the first time. 

That’s what motivated him to call in the morning and have your car handled himself, paying the exorbitant fees and for the tow despite the eye watering amount. If you didn’t have anyone looking out for you then it was only the right thing to do. You seemed like a good kid, going to school and he knew you worked at some shitty diner in town to pay for your place. You were a good friend to his own kid, who god knows had been forced through enough upheaval thanks to him. 

He’d gotten your number from her, just to call and tell you your car was taken car of, he’d take you to the shop to pick it up even if you didn’t have a way to get there. That’s all it was. All it was supposed to be. 

Soon enough, as the days turned to weeks then months, he found himself reaching for his phone more and more, texting you just to check in. It was natural to worry about you, you were young and working hard. It was like worrying about his own kid. But it wasn’t long before those texts developed certain undertones, although he couldn’t pinpoint an exact moment when the shift happened but it’s what led to the present moment. 

A rare phone call from you, around two in the morning, and lucky for you it was a night he was home. Something about being at a party but some shit was happening you didn’t want to be part of, too fucked up to drive though so pretty please Mr. Kennedy could you give me a ride home? The way your voice sounded, pleading, cutesy and a little drunk coming through the receiver immediately and shamefully made him semi hard as he sat up in bed, head hanging low and brushing the hair from his face with his opposite hand as he felt the change in bloodflow listening to you speak.

What kind of sicko pops a semi when a girl thats best friends with his own kid calls him for help? Jesus you need to get laid. With a woman your own age.

But he’d agreed, assuring you it was fine, just give him the address and wait outside he’d pick you up. There was a strange sense of pride in his head, that you thought to call him to come get you before anyone else. Did you see him as dependable? How exactly did you see him, anyway?

Behind the wheel his grip turns white knuckle. If he doesn’t make an effort to barricade those ideas things could quickly turn sour. Your tenuous connection aside, it was bad enough that you were only in your twenties. He was a old man comparatively, long since having lost that sparkle of youthfulness in favor of the dull realities of the world, the horrors of his job. And what would you want with a man his age anyway when you were doing exactly what any young person should be doing, getting drunk in the company of those most like yourself. Although he’d be lying if he said the idea of you drunkenly clinging to some nameless faceless boy didn’t make jealousy shoot through his head like a presicion bolt. 

And he thinks of the cat then, so many months ago now. The way you’d sat stone faced in this very same car, clothes ruined with it’s blood and dried mud cracking on your hands. You’d reminded him of himself, and in some strange way it was like that incident cemented you together.

But those thoughts vanish as he spots you under a streetlight, haloed in burnt orage light as you leaned against it like it was the only thing in the world that could keep you upright. He pulls over with a start, making the car jerk as it shifts gear before the drivers door is slamming behind him. 

“Hey, you okay?” he already knows the answer will be no. You look like you’ve had firmly too much to drink, shivering in an outfit so skimpy it makes his blood pressure skyrocket as he takes you in.

“Mr. Kennedy, m’so happy to see you,” you slur it with relief and that protectiveness surges once again. You pay his awkward posture no mind as you grab for his bicep to keep your balance, stumbling in heels. 

“You know you can call me Leon, now come on, you’re gonna freeze to death out here in those clothes.” 

You flash him a smile, eyes unfocused but he could see the redness in your sclera even with the dimly lit half dark. So you’d clearly been dabbling in weed too. Before he can admonish you as he guides you to sit in the passenger seat you do something that makes the words die in his throat. 

You cradle his jaw in your hands, fingers moving against the stubble he forgot to shave like you’re testing the sensation against your skin before placing your lips to his cheek in a soft, sweet kiss. It makes his adrenaline spike, coursing through his body like he just took an injection of the stuff and it takes a superhuman effort to not grab your soft cheeks and slam his lips on yours.

Tension filled the car, along with the smell of cheap booze and marijuana that clung to you like a second skin as he reversed into a three point turn to get back towards your place.

"You mad at me?" You ask and the words put his heart out of time. It sounds so... Small coming from you, endearing in some unnameable way.

"Why would I be? You're an adult, aren't you?"

You considered his words, wrapping a piece of hair around your finger as if what he asked carried more weight than he was aware of.

"So since I'm an adult is it okay to kiss you again?"

It was like a one man, all mental car crash. A body in free fall despite being firmly held in place by safety restraints and boxed inside a compact space. He was glad to be stopped at a red light then, but soon enough his eyes drifted to a patch of gravel that went off from the shoulder of the road, towards a little crop of trees. Secluded.

The decision was made before he realized, had been made the moment he'd seen you soaked in blood at that vets office all those months ago. You were like a shard of what could have been, all those years ago if his life had been normal, stayed normal. He would've loved you had he met you then. Kind, bright, alive. Maybe this scene would've played out in a similar way, that babyfaced version of himself picking you up and being jittery as hell thinking about getting you home, getting you all to himself.

You don't raise any questions as he pulls off the shoulder, the interior of the car cast in a thicker darkness thanks to the tree cover. Maybe you realize that you're in the car with essentially two people, the man he is now and the one that could've existed. Do you know how badly both ache to touch you, that it feels like being on fire?

As the car stops the air inside nearly crackles aloud between your bodies, he can feel the way his lungs inflate with air so acutely it's almost painful. But it has to be you, has to be your choice to start this.

And you don't keep him waiting long, unbuckling before turning to face him in the dark and leaning forward until one of your elbows is on the center console and you're holding your face as your eyes scan his. Even while buzzed it was clear you weren't incoherent, which put him at ease fractionally.

"So, can I kiss you again?" You ask again, half glazed eyes holding his, your tongue peeking out to run over your bottom lip and he's never wanted someone to kiss him so badly before.

"Or are you gonna make me beg, Leon?" You drag out the sound of his name with your voice dropped to a whisper and he could've moaned like a bitch in heat right then.

And suddenly it didn't matter that you were his daughters friend, it didn't matter that there was a canyon of time and experience between you, all that mattered was getting his hands on you in the next second and that's exactly what he did. He may be an occasional asshole but he's not going to make anyone as beautiful as you are beg him for anything.

The kiss he yanks you into is searing, one calloused hand on the back of your neck like he was scruffing a naughty animal while your teeth clicked together and your tongues slid over one another in something more akin to snakes slipping against each other. The scent of you is like getting a contact high, the muskiness of sweat and weed mingled with something sweet layering beneath it. Something distinctly you.

Your tongue tastes like sugary liquor, something vaguely vanilla enough that you can slam down shot after shot before realizing you've had too many. He can feel the spit clinging to his lips but it doesn't matter, not when you're climbing over the console and he's fumbling blind for the bar that'll set the seat all the way back.

When he finds it you gasp as both your bodies are jolted backwards, your hands resting against his chest to steady yourself and he thinks every man on earth would kill for the view he has right now. Your chest, nearly on full display thanks to the little halter top you're wearing, was heaving and he was enraptured by the way your breasts moved beneath the flimsy fabric.

His hands stretched out with purpose, grabbing the moldable flesh and kneading it between his fingers as you rolled your head back and his hips gave an experimental roll sending your body upwards like you were on a boat rocking in waves. You moan at the motion, the sensation, knowing he may be older than you but clearly still in shape enough.

When you bend down to capture his lips again his hands find the strings tied together at your neck, easily undoing them and allowing himself full access to your chest, breaking the kiss to mark a sloppy spit trail down your throat until he could lightly press his teeth against the soft flesh of your breast. The way you whined and laced your fingers in his hair spurred him on, sucking on your nipple and moving to leave splotches of deep red on the plump skin before lavishing the other breast with the same attention.

Your hips grind down against him, feeling the way he was straining against the jeans he'd pulled on in his rush to get to you. Truthfully he'd never been so hard in his life, felt his cock throbbing and aching to be buried inside you like if he didn't he'd keel over. Thick fingers pull your microskirt up to bunch around your hips, exposing what felt like cute silk panties to his rough fingertips and briefly he wishes it was a little brighter out so he could see them properly. Maybe he'll buy you new ones after this.

As his index strokes along the gusset of them it's a boost to his ego, feeling how wet you already were, how it made you mewl so pathetically against the shell of his ear.

"I know, baby," he cooed at you, half teasing half mocking as your hips bucked against his hand, chasing even a sliver of friction for your own satisfaction. A selfish streak is alluring, always has been to him.

But he's not cruel and once more he doesn't make you beg, pushing two fingers up inside you with ease and feeling your slick walls constrict around the intrusion instantly, squeezing and sucking them in and it was enough to rob him of the air in his lungs.

"Want more," you gasp against the crook of his neck as his fingers pumped in and out of you, soft squelching filling the car with every movement. "Please-"

You cut yourself off with a low keen as his fingers curl against a particular spot that he tucks the knowledge of away to keep, a sweet spot that makes you pant like a dog in his lap and he can't help but marvel at how adorably needy you are at this moment.

"It's all yours," he says, gravelly, as your hands slide down to his waistband, feeling for the button and zipper which you undo with impressive speed. It was flattering that you were so desperate for his cock in your hands, pulling him from his boxers and letting out a little moan feeling the size of him. He wasn't dealing with a monster but he always had been confident that he was well endowed enough to please, something your reaction only reenforced.

Being in a car meant there was little room for movement but you managed to make do on top of him, him holding your panties to the side while you lined the head of his leaking, flushed cock up with your entrance. The slide down threatened to dissolve his vision in a haze of static, the feeling of you on his fingers paled in comparison to this.

It was like you were made for him, made for this. The way your pussy opened up around him as you slid down inch by inch, mouth dropping open until you reached the hilt of him and a sharp groan fell from your lips.

His hands gripped your hips, rubbing slow circles against them as you adjusted to the feeling of him inside you. It was also for his own benefit, an anchor against the floodwaters in his mind that threatened to sweep him away. The last thing he wanted was to lose control or focus, slam up into you and end up hurting you. It has to be at your pace, this time.

But you don't keep him waiting, to your credit. You lean back down, nibbling on his bottom lip as you start rolling your hips slowly, getting a feel for a rhythm and he matches it when you fall into one you prefer. Slow, steady rocking of his cock up against the spot he found earlier, the one that makes you whine and whimper. He's vaguely conscious of the windows fogging, the car being jostled by the repetitive motion of your hips meeting and your pussy greedily swallowing his length.

He's never been much of a religious man, but in this moment with you he thinks he could be. Maybe god is in a lover, a warm body and soft skin, the way your voice goes higher as you say his name again and again. He doesn't want to hear anyone else speak it, like it's a secret only between the two of you.

His arms, still strong and corded with muscle, keep you held against him as he picks up the rhythm entirely, pumping up into you with relentless fervor as your cries reach a fever pitch and the first battering of his impending orgasm hits him like a punch to the gut.

Too soon, too soon. But there's nothing that could stop the thick, sticky ropes of cum from flooding your waiting cunt, the throbbing of the head of his cock against your walls a stark reminder that he's old and that it's been far too long since he's cum in anything that wasn't his own hand. All at once he's back within himself as he is, not a virile young man anymore but a world weary one. A lonely one.

His eyes are closed but he can feel your lips marking a path up from the neck of his tshirt, the column of his throat, his jaw, and before your lips find his again you speak.

"Come back with me, for the night?" It's barely audible, sends shivers wracking his spine as the words move over his mouth, crawling down his throat.

And for the first time since he was even younger than you he thinks of Saint Jude. Patron of lost causes. Maybe someone finally took pity on him, one of the most lost of all.

[sheeluvsme]

Let’s talk about how price is literally husband material …

CAPTAIN JOHN PRICE HEAD CANNONS 🙋🏻‍♀️🙋🏻‍♀️🙋🏻‍♀️ I love this man sm …. I normally hate facial hair on a guy BUT GOD DAYM COD MEN PULL THAT SHIT OFF..

Mix of sfw and nsfw blurbs bc I’m a silly guy. I really enjoy writing this shit bc I literally will be kicking my feet twirling my hair .. ( warning fem body parts used!) as I write this shit LMAOO enjoy!!! Ps. Not proof read..I wrote this at like 4 in the morning

He literally is so good to you , you can’t even be like mad at him over ANYTHING.

There was a time he accidentally dropped his cigar and it caught the bare skin of your leg AND HE FELT SO BADDDDD

He literally can not stand the thought of you being hurt..

He DEF SENDS CARE PACKAGES WHEN HES OUT FOR MONTHS AT A TIME

Being gone for so long he always takes a shirt of yours DRENCHED in your most used perfume so when he sleeps he can trick his brain into thinking your there.

He would be a king of taking care of your son your period!!!

Your sitting there curled up trying to not wake him up but you are just in so much pain :// and his ass senses it through his slumber?:!:?:?

“ you alright love?” He mutters into your shoulder. GOD HIS MORNING VOICE IS HOT. He woke up from feeling you tense up and sigh and whine quietly from the pain. “ yeah. Just my period.” You mumble into your pillow. He carefully pulls his arm around you , “ where” he asks. “ what-?” You ask confused. “ where is it cramping now love? I’ll massage it for you.” He whispered. You can’t help but swoon because you got the best husband in the WORLD “it’s my stomach right now-“ and immediately he takes his hand rubbing your stomach. The pain is suddenly being soothed and you can finally un-tense. “ theree you go love. I got you.” He kisses your shoulder softly. “ I’ll stay like this for a bit and then ill grab your heating blanket and a cup of tea hm? “ you feel him smile against your shoulder.

He’s very caring towards you but let’s not forget how you treat him like royalty fr

He always comes back with SOMETHING wrong with his back , and he whines about it to you every time so you’ll massage his back for him. He always wins you over.

He thinks he’s def undeserving  of you, your so sweet to him! He’s not used to women liking him just because you love him as a person himself. He’s had past girlfriends that just liked him for money benefits. Not you though, you literally freak out when he spends WAY too much on you “ John price!?— how much was this necklace??” And he always smiles and says “ don’t worry about it. “ he has learned lots of money saving tricks from you , he calls you a penny pincher LMAOO, he thinks it’s cute though you worry about him spending to much money like he doesn’t got enough.

He absolutely adores when you wear his hat , he thinks your the cutest thing on planet earth but dear god he’d never let you near any of the shit he does😭

You get along with 141 pretty well and it makes price really happy.

You’ve all been to the bar numerous of times and he likes watching you and soap bicker about stupid shit “ you..you eat lamb stomach?” “ ITS CALLED HAGGIS AND ITS GOOD!!”

Ghost and price giggling in the background.

They know how much you mean to there captain so they also would do anything to protect you

Your at a bar with them and some guy try’s talking to you and grabs your shoulder THEN HE JUST SEES A BUNCH OF TALL ASS GUYS GLARING HIM DOWN LMAOO let’s hope Buddy wore brown pants 🙏🏻

NSFW !!

Price lovesssssss eating you out , LITERALLY ANYWHERE IN YOUR FUCKING HOUSE. Especially if you had a shitty day at work , your in the shower trying to rinse off the day and suddenly you feel your not alone anymore..

Manz lifts you up on HIS SHOULDERS SO HE CAN EAT YOU OUT

He’s more dominant but he doesn’t mind you taking lead AT ALL

Man goes insane when you ride him

He can’t sleep , but you know he needs to. He hasn’t been sleeping much sense his last mission, he’s clearly stressed. Your hugging him..hugging turns to kissing. Kissing turns to groping, and then it turns to you ontop of him grinding against his bulge. “ fuck..let me take care of you, yeah?” You simply shake your head “ no captain. It’s time I take care of you.” He can’t deny your request when you look heavenly ontop of him. Helping each other slip off each other’s clothes, he loves looking at your tits , he finds how they feel so nice in his hands. He can’t help but grunt when you sit down on him and slowly begin to move your hips. His hands are gripped TIGHTLY against your hips. He can’t stop himself from using his hands to help move you and fuck you , he wants to be able to hit the deepest parts of you because honestly he fantasizes about getting your pregnant. He loves shooting a full load in you and praying you get pregnant, be there to take care of you , and most Importantly get to see a little baby made by you and him!!! Makes him go nuts , that’s why you and him fuck way too much around your cycle.

He is BIG into photos and videos of you.

He records videos of him fucking you and then watch them while he’s away, or he’ll take pictures to look at when he feels lonely on a trip!!!

He keeps a nude picture of you in his wallet ;)) soap was traumatized when price asked him to get something out his wallet and he found something HE DID NOT WANT TO SEE , soap has you and him down in his phone as ‘mom’ and ‘dad’ seeing that was horrific for him 😭😭

Thank you for reading <33 commissions open!!!

[tanoraqui]

Dungeon Meshi Liveblog: I thought I wasn't going to have strong opinions about the Laios-Shuro fight, but...

Laios was right about this! Yes, they had 2 physical fights first, but it's important to note that Laios was right about this!

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^ -man who would literally kill to stay in this room and observe this private conversation.

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Sir, your unfaltering little wide-eyed, amiable smile while seriously considering topics that are obviously un-smile-worth has charmed me utterly. I wish to study you like an climate-entomologist yearns for the butterfly that causes storms.

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She seems fine.

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If I start screencapping Laios's and Marcille's faces in this fight, I will never stop because literally every panel is devasting.

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Kuro has done distinctly the most damage so far this fight, just stabbing and gnawing, and I think we should recognize and appreciate that fact.

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I really miss the animation we got of Rin's lightning blast slicing narrowly past Laios.

I love how fast, if reluctantly, Laios accepts that if - not, that Falin is a true "monster", inhuman and hurting people relentlessly and unapologetically, and thus she needs to be killed before she kills them, like any other monster. I also love that Marcille doesn't accept this. Characters!

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+1 to qualification to kingship! Kabru is one again surprised (you can tell by how he's not smiling) (though this might also be due to the significant injuries he just took).

I do have several emotions about how Falin immediately yanks away and kills Kabru, without touching Laios. That's her brother!!

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I really like this little cluster because it says to me that Shuro still has very good "do what Marcille says when she abruptly shouts magic-related directions in combat" instincts. He's a mirror of the "You're already on the Christmas card, buddy" meme - more like, "You're still on the Christmas card." Just like Namari: no one really stops being fond of, and battle companions with, these weirdos.

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I think the most painful part of this probably is that Marcille isn't certain. Maybe this IS her fault. At minimum, she knows she might have mixed the dragon's soul into Falin's, which enabled this even if it didn't create it. But she can't 100% rule out the possibility that it's more her fault than that - which is, of course, the absolute worst thing to say to all of these people looking at her violently askance for using dark magic.

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yeahhhhhh "Lunatic Magician" REALLY lacks the oomph of "Mad Mage"

ANGRY LAIOS! It's such a rare expression on him, it's exciting to see.

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Yesss look at my man Chilchuck use available tools in his environment and save this little goober who thinks it's cool to resent adults.

I really like how they show the social consequences of dark magic. Much beyond Shuro's anger: the other mages are now shutting Marcille down, especially where resurrection magic is concerned. She's made herself untrusted by her peers, whether or not the magic she used on Falin is truly "evil."

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I really enjoy the, like, narratively obligatory, not actually real (well, maybe to Rin) "will they-won't they" between Kabru and Rin. In the story that this isn't, where Kabru is the protagonist with his quirky gang of found family who are helping him save the island and prevent another bloodbath like in his angsty backstory, she IS the One (Human) Female on the Team who is obviously his love interest - often the first to challenge him, battle mage rather than healer ie a Strong Female Character who nonetheless doesn't use unfeminine brute force, forced by happenstance to kiss...

Alas! Kabru is not the protagonist of this story, so Rin shall remain disappointed.

Also this montage of people healing and reuniting while in the background Laios and Shuro whale on each other remains SO funny. Flawless comedic timing.

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Alright, hot take time: I feel like all the debate I've seen about the Shuro/Laios fight depict it as revealing the friendship basically shattered, and never real in the first place. Whereas I'm mostly warmed by how real it clearly was despite everything that just happened?

Shuro is operating on no food and less sleep, desperate to save the woman he idolizes without truly understanding her loves, who is now apparently a monster who nearly slaughtered his most loyal followers. In the past like 2 weeks, Laios has: watched his sister die to save his life (his little sister, whom he is supposed to protect), walked headfirst into a nigh-unwinnable fight to get her back, held her skull in his hands, got her back and held her in his arms, lost her again about 6 hours later in an even more unwinnable fight, which was proven even more unwinnable when the Mage twisted the dungeon itself against them, saw her again but as a murderous monster now (which might be due to the magic he agreed to use to resurrect her), swiftly and sternly resigned himself to fighting and potentially killing her (his little sister! whom he is supposed to protect!), had her recognize him (and no one else!) despite her monstrosity, watched her be killed (again!) in part thanks to him distracting her, except it didn't work and then she fled.

This is an immature, ignoring-immediate-needs (ie, food, healing) knock-down drag-out fight between two men at the absolute ends of their ropes, who, sure, have built-up resentments against each other and the world, and an inciting incident pushing them over the edge - but mostly neither of them can punch in the face the fact that they can't save Falin. So they punch each other instead.

I won't even address the prologue to the fight, where Laios tells him about the black magic and Shuro promptly tries to strangle him then levels a sword at him. Kabru already nailed that: Shuro was worried about Falin - that the magic had hurt her, that the social consequences would be worse. Laios knew this enough that he didn't fight back, then. But now?

The first shove is Shuro demanding, Don't you fucking DARE give me false hope.

I cannot emphasize enough how hard I would also slap someone for suggesting that I wasn't taking the death and monsterization of my younger sibling seriously.

Shuro knows it, too. He doesn't respond to this, he just punches, and Laios punches back. Shuro doesn't speak again until Laios knocks him all the way down, and

Shuro is at his absolute depth. The lowest point he (feels that he) can go. He cannot save Falin. He's shamed himself as a leader and heir by getting his people killed (they got better, but that's beside the point.) He's been beaten in hand-to-hand combat by this idiot northern peasant. He lets down his guard and pride enough to mutter this self-deprecation aloud...and the idiot northern peasant hears, compounding every shame - and it's infuriating especially because he doesn't even hear properly, just like he never hears properly - he's so frustrating in his friendly but oblivious constant irritation and THIS, Shuro can still be furious about, to avoid his grief/hopelessness/self-loathing/shame. This, he can still fight about!

So he does.

They're both wrong in this fight. They're both right. Laios was consistently inconsiderate; knowing this about himself - because it's not like by his early 20s he didn't know that he didn't Get people the way most people Get people - he should've made more of an effort, and picked up any of the hints Shuro was laying down. Shuro was too caught up in his own pride and out-of-place manners: when it was clear that Laios wasn't going to pick up on even the strongest "hint", he should've said something plainly instead of just letting his resentment build until he was effectively lying to Laios about, if not their entire friendship, certainly the shape of it.

But they were friends. They are friends. This isn't the posture or conversation of two guys who don't like each other.

It's two guys who are still, in fact, fucking exhausted, physically and emotionally - but they just got rid of a lot of extra, furious, helpless energy, so they're finally satisfied to just sit. Their posture is relaxed and casual; their conversation straightforward and companionable, if serious.

This is two guys who've sat like this many time at a campfire, in just these poses. Who've kept watch together late at night and stayed awake by talking.

Laios cares about Falin more than anyone in the world, and even after the words and blows they just exchanged, he's still willing to put Shuro's suit to her. Shuro didn't tell Falin he was interested in her until he proposed to her, but he's telling it all to Laios. Admittedly, this is because Laios is, Shuro assumes, the closest he'll ever get to being able to tell it all to Falin...but still. And he admits vulnerability, which he clearly wouldn't have done before, even to his most loyal and loved companions as they urged him to eat and sleep.

Yeah, they're buddies. If I had to describe it, I'd say: their relationship was built on unsteady, false foundations, but they built something sturdy on it anyway, and the sturdy thing survives even when the foundations shake and re-settle.

Lol at Shuro. "I'm going to report you to the local authorities for your crimes because it's the right thing to do. But if you survive, I'll totally use my power and influence to help you flee the country, and live peacefully on my estate beyond where an extradition treaty can reach you."

[lizaluvsthis]

SMG4: The PuzzleVision Movie

[SPOILER ALERT and more into the ship]

VERY.

MAJOR.

SPOILER.

PLEASE.

Its funny enough how i predicted spongebob squarepants in my theory

(It even also has the ship I had a true pairing with. Squidbob.)

When old fandom meets the new fandom I'm currently in be like-

I see how they got each other's backs...

Suprised that SMG4 has done this- because last time we remembered, Smg3 is the one who comes risking his own life to save his buddy.

Now it's giving the DEJA VU moment but this time SMG3 is the one who gets saved by smg4.

"You saved me!"

Notice how different they act around their partner when they get saved?

Smg3 during wotfi 2023 AND in his recolor design during the 10 year anniversary.

He himself has pushed those things away or pushing out the soft stuff saying— "yeah yeah" or "I'd like to see you die otherwise"

BUT HIM? He still couldn't accept himself with the softness he's gained alot. He still calls his FRIEND. Baka.

(Hah idiot.)

One thing to say that it WAS AWKWARD SMG4 just looks at our guy. My man... my homie... buddy chum pal old fella amigo-

You. Are not. Okay. My man. (GAY PANIC SAYS OTHERWISE)

I know its not relevant but I drew this back in march 25 believe it or not I may have predicted this as well

Me and my brain goofing around telling me what if the gays did do that.

Anyways- back when Three lets Four carry him, as much as they both hate each other they atleast had to do it somehow inorder to escape.

Yet four could ever care less and he was still grabbing his waist at that time, and Three not giving a sh-t just looking up at the sky noticing how pretty it is.

Three... DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHOSE GRABBING YOUR WAIST RIGHT NOW??????????

Two siblings getting both of their fingers broken.

And its even in the right hand! Since Mario is immune to broken bones, Meggy however gets to be on the same place Mario has been in IGBP. NOW she gets to feel the pain what Mario may had felt.

-

And thus at the near end where SMG4 hits PV with a meat hammer or aka luigi- HE LITERALLY KICKED THE HEAD OUT- AND THE ANIMATION THAT MADE IT SO SERIOUS.

I think I understand his anger so much from this clip that everyone would agree.

Ever since PuzzleVision gave back everyones conciousness- he showed the Western Spaghetti and IGBP act of the crew on how emotional things became.

"And SMG4... who knew you could play an antagonist so well! High ranks for me!"

He felt so guilty. He looked down. He knew what PV was talking about.

By an antagonist' actions.

Just like how he was possessed by the goop itself, he started going crazy during that time and he let his anger get on to him.

SMG4 DID NOT WANT TO BE THE BAD GUY.

He was so scared and felt pity to himself because of that. And it was all ruined because of PV himself.

Smg4 didn't want to remember what happened during that encounter and never will.

Besides on the deal with PuzzleVision. SMG4 and Meggy's traumatic experiences weren't talked enough from their problems during the movie.

So much things are happening from the show that no one is talking much about it while watching.

"Is... is it over?"

Smg4 proceedingly cried emotionally because of the torture. He was apparently too blind enough to notice now that he realized it was him to blame. He was so dumb enough and so angry that he could cry.

Three didn't even slapped him or shut him off, he lets him cry over there due to the fact that he may need to release his emotions.

Because he knows how sentimental Smg4 became when it involves with dealing his own emotions that HE couldn't even give an advice for. But could only stay quiet.

Because at what hell of a state would he even say to SMG4 when they're trying to escape from this hell of a nightmare?

Four still doesn't accept himself, and neither does Smg3 too. From everything that happened.

Our boys are suffering enough and its hurting us like hell.

[diejager]

Ooo I just love how you write platonic yanderess

Can you write a platonic yandere Ghost with his little sister😗

Of course. Of course.

Pairing : Big brother Simon "Ghost" Riley & little sister reader

Cw: canon violence, death, Ghost background, death, murder, dark, platonic yandere, protective Ghost, murder, mental breakdown, depression, trauma.

Wc: 1.3k

The last thing he wanted people to know - even his team - was about his civilian life, the secrets he held under lock and key near his heart, and a hard appearance. He protected what little was left of his old life fiercely, he wasn't Simon Riley anymore, he was "Ghost" now and that's all people knew. All the pain and torture he went through, from digging himself out of his grave to finding his family murdered, dead in the home they thought safe.

He remembered going home, exhausted and ecstatic to see his family, he celebrated Christmas with his family, drinking and eating at Tommy's house, you sitting next to him - your older brother. He was lucky that everyone was free that night, you both had unpredictable schedules, him being a red beret and you a field medic. Although he never had the chance to work with you, you were always skilled with your hands, bandaging and nursing his wounds.

You fixed him up when your dad got too drunk, Simon used to wrap himself around your body and receive every hit and berate of degrading insults your dad liked to spew. Simon protected you and you played his nurse until it became too real, you left for military service a few years after him, wishing to help the one who protected you so often.

He left to drink with friends on the eve, military buddies, you promise to come back once you got something from your flat near the edge of Downtown Manchester (it was a bit far, but always noisy, it helped quell the nightmares that silence brought).

He rushed home when he finished with whatever Sparks had done, ending him and his accomplice. They knew where he was before, it put his family at risk, then the call he got only solidified his fears when he stepped into Tommy's house, door open and lights off.

He found you sobbing, kneeling over Tommy and Joseph's bodies, cradling them. The dread and devastation he felt were overpowering, his life in the military had cost him his happy family. He was served revenge on a silver platter, a few scrapes here and there, but you two had disappeared in the dead of Christmas.

Everything from public relationships to your face was a risk, and somehow, he managed to keep you by his side wherever he served. You were the medic and him the lieutenant; (Name) and Simon Riley were dead, simply Doc and Ghost. That's how the world knew you and how Task Force 141 called you. Doc and Ghost, stuck by the hips, wearing similar masks and worked spectacularly together.

You were the last of his family, of the life he had before the murder - his dreamy heaven - so he kept you close, he protected you like he did when you were younger. If they got too close, he'd dispose of them immediately. Your safety was his top priority, whatever he did was for you, and the purpose he built himself was to ensure that you'd live.

He wanted you to stay, the agonizing pain of feeling lost and alone was harrowing, and he couldn't risk the chance of losing you too. They haunted him in his sleep, the memory of their deaths and his regrets, it all loomed over him like a reminder of his mistakes - his failures. The 'what if's lingered in his mind, the 'should have' and 'could have' becoming a mainstream of his thoughts when he looked at himself in the mirror; what if he never joined the army; what if he was there that night; he should have been there with them, instead of drinking at a bar; he could have saved you the grief and pain he felt, the one you shared like an open wound.

It should have been him.

He told himself that so many times, to you and himself, always mumbling about it at night, pointing the finger at himself for the loss. You stayed by his side, smaller arms wrapped around him like a blanket of comfort, warm and reassuring with words that pushed back his demons. He loved you so much, for being here and for always sticking to him.

You don't blame him for it, he doesn't understand how you don't, he saw it as his fault for bringing the enemy home.

"'S not your fault, Si," you whispered to him, his mental state too fragile for loud noises. His ears were ringing, almost so loudly that he thought his mind would implode on itself. You knew he felt everything much stronger, being the eldest of the trio he felt more responsible. "You're not to blame, Si. None of it, ya understand?"

He liked how your hands held his, gripping him tightly to bring him back to earth, far away from his violent mind. You supported him when he crashed and he held you when you broke, their deaths never left you, it simply brought you closer together than you'd think possible.

You closed yourself from others and built a wall of brick and cement, yet you smiled and socialized freely, you spoke enough for you both - or so Ghost insisted. He grew colder, callous, and brash with others, reserving his sweeter and softer side for you.

He stood near you, practically looming over you with his height of 6'4, broad shoulders, dark fatigues; a giant wall of muscle, you'd tease him, though you knew he was only protecting you. He's grown wary of everything that tried to approach you, he would stand before any approaching figure and glare them down.

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, you were told from the file Price sent you, walked to meet you, smiling broadly and eyes squinting from the bright sun that bared down on the base. Besides him was Gaz, Kyle Garrick, olive-skinned and leaner than both males - blockheaded blokes, you called Simon and Soap.

His newly formed habit stood out the moment Ghost moved to block you from their sights, standing high and sneering when they stood feet away from you. You saw them flinch, hesitation seen through their eyes before they closed in, greeting Ghost who stared at their hand.

"Doc, pleasure meeting you, Soap, Gaz," you moved around Ghost, tapping his forearm reassuringly, his tense form slumping slightly. "He's Ghost, sorry 'bout him, he's not much of a people's person." Ghost huffed as you shook their hands, peering between them to the other duo approaching: Captain John Price and Gary "Roach" Sanderson.

Ghost acted once more, moving to guard you even though he knew Price prior to the formation of Task Force 141, you both knew him. You shook his hand, bowing your head lightly out of respect for the experience and battle-hardened man.

Other than guarding you, he hoarded your attention like a dragon hoarding his gold, keeping you by his side wherever he went as much as he stuck to yours. Per your conditions, you and Ghost would always be assigned together, and Price sympathetically complied. You bunked together and ate on the same table, he warded away unsavory glances and you lashed out at those that glowered at Ghost.

Although you'd burn the world for Ghost, he took it a step further, he took it upon himself to take care of whatever plagued you. Be it harassment from a fellow soldier, he'd disappear the next day; be it an unintentional threat to your safety, properly disposed of; be it someone who's trying to get close to you, too close to you, would find themselves jumping into an oncoming train.

He did as he should to keep you from harm, any kind that would mean losing you. A desperate man takes desperate measures, and Simon "Ghost" Riley is the most desperate elder brother in the world.

[kachowden]

Yandere Ex & Reader? Hell yeah.

Tw: Harassment, physical assault (not towards reader), weirdo behavior, Chris is a dickhead, suggestive mentions.

His skin prickled aggressively. Teeth clenched together, grinding against their own enamel.

“Christophe? man? You seein anyone new recently?”

His eyes trailed listlessly to the right of him. Nick wasn’t anything special in his mind. Average teen with slightly above average looks in the eyes of the campus. A constant pain in his as, but- useful. Very useful.

“You know I’m not. And don’t call me Christophe.” His tone did little to hide his irritation, though Nick seemed oblivious to it. Or maybe he just didn’t care.

“Yeah yeah whatever man. Does that mean you’ve gotten over that Ex of yours?”

Christophe’s shoulders tensed violently.

“So they’re on the market then right?”

“Fuck yeah dude!”

Two other members of their group laughed crudely, their names so insignificant that Christophe hadn’t made the effort to remember them. They weren’t useful.

His brows furrowed deeply in agitation, and he was quick to shoot the two teens a burrowing glare. “You shut your fucken mouth.”

Nick laughed awkwardly, patting the fuming blonde on the back. “Now now Chris…they’re just messing with ya…”

One of the other members didn’t seem to agree, his own confrontational personality showing light as he crossed his arms moodily. “I don’t see why your panties are in a twist. Last time I checked you two broke up sophomore year. Don’t you think it’s about time you move on and let the rest of us have a taste?”

The moronic teen made a crude hand gesture towards his friend, who seemed to recognize the tension in the air, and made the wise decision to glance away from the act.

Smart move on his end.

The thud of a body against tile echoed the empty corridor, the perverse male choked and sputtered against the hand that crushed his throat.

“I’d watch my tongue if I were you. With all the shit you spew I’m surprised someone hasn’t cut it out yet and saved the rest of us the headache.”

Blue eyes stared at brown eyes, so dark they looked black, and made quick work to try and wiggle his way out of Christophe’s hold.

“F-fuck Off-!” A fist in his gut made him nearly hurl, his eyes straining and bugging painfully in his sockets from the blood rising to his face. His stomach heaved incessantly, and at this rate he found he might die from asphyxiation on his own bile. Not that he knew what asphyxiation was.

Christophe watched boredly.

“D-dude chill out-“ the other nameless tried to de-escalate the situation, but was quick to stop when he saw the look in Christophes eyes. “J…just say sorry man..” that was directed at the pinned idiot, his smart mouthed friend.

The blue faced male was sane enough to try and spew out an apology, it sounding disgustingly gurgled, though it was the best he could manage while on the verge of passing out. Christophe sneared, dropping the male to the floor.

The blue eyed teen landed to the floor with a heaving thud, his body contracting in its vicious attempts to breath again, his buddy sliding next to him and trying to keep him alive.

“Let’s go.”

Christophe’s indifferent tone was appealing at best, as he made his way down the corridor.Nick was quick to follow.

“You think they’ll snitch?”

A scoff.

“No. He’s stupid. Not suicidal.”

————-

There you were. Mindlessly reading. Fitting, since you were in a library.

This had become routine for Chris.

He found it in himself to admit he could stare at you for hours. And he had before.

It wasn’t hard too. What drew him to you now was the same thing that drew him to you before.

You were so….you. It was weird in a painfully charming way.

You were such a normal person. You had your own quirks, like everyone did. But you didn’t stand out. You weren’t popular. You weren’t a social outcast either. You were just…kinda there.

It was enthralling at the best of times. Irritating at the worst. Perfect at most.

He could acknowledge that your normalcy was intoxicating. Especially in his day to day life.

Christophe would never acknowledge however, the way he still clung to the sight of you after all these years. That your departure from him had affected him as much as it did. That would be soul crushing. Because it meant you still had power over him, which he very much knew you did. But he’d never admit it. Even to himself. He’d die parading it as some morbid interest in your breaking point. In his desire to study you like a lab rat. Someone he’d poke at until he got the reaction he wanted.

And he always got what he wanted.

But even then. Even if he claimed that, his interest in you was not romantic. Was not what it once was years ago.

Your skin looked so empty now, and he physically ached with the desire to leave marks on it like he once did.

He knew deep down he was lying.

The staring quickly became unsatisfactory, and with little hesitation he made his way over to your table, his hand slamming beside yours as he hovered over you, a cruel grin stretched on his lips.

“Looks like the nerd decide to hang out in its natural habitat today.”

“…..”

He fucken hated when you ignored him.

“Your friends finally ditch you Y/n? Surprised it took this long.” He didn’t mean that. If your friends had any sense they’d never leave you alone.

“Go away Christophe.”

Fuck.

He loved it when you said his name. Something primal always sprang forward, and you were none the wiser to being the only one who could call him that without getting a broken nose.

“Why? I just wanna hang out with my favorite person in the whole wide world~” his expression was pulled into a pitiful frown, though he knew you could see through his bullshit. You always could.

“……”

He growled deep within his throat, hand darting forward and snatching the book from your own

The sudden grin on his collar didn’t register until it was choking him, and his eyes were met with the sight of your scalding glare. Your noses bumped together, and it took everything in Christophe to not look at your lips, otherwise he knew he’d try to kiss them. He had very little self control in moments like these.

“Fuck off Chris. Give me back my book.”

Fuck he wanted to listen to you so bad, his thighs were quick to clench together in anticipation, licking his suddenly chapped lips as he trembled in your hold. Though not from fear like you probably suspected. If you were even paying attention to details like that, which- god he prayed you were.

“Careful-! Wouldn’t want the faculty seeing you manhandle their favorite student” He tossed the book to you, and once you caught it you dropped him to the ground.

His eyes darted upwards, the visual of you above him, staring at him like the filth on your boot was burned into his retinas.

Fuck fuck fuck.

“You’re pathetic Christophe. When are you gonna get over me.”

Never. Never, he would stay hooked on you for the rest of his life and he’d known that even before you both broke up

He’s craved you for years. Ages. You’d never know the true extent of how pathetic he was.

“Like I’d still be interested in someone like you Y/n. The end of our relationship was like a blessing. I’d never felt so alive.” Liar. Liar liar liar. It was painful saying these things. Even if your expression was exciting, the way he got to see it almost wasn’t worth it. They burned his tongue.

Being away from you was like being wrapped in heavy cuffs and weights. He felt more suffocated then ever. He needed you.

“Whatever. Just leave me alone this week. I have enough bullshit to deal with right now.”

He had so many questions. He wanted to ask what was wrong. To hold you and tell you that you could talk to him. That whatever, or whoever was bothering you, he’d beat the shit out of them if you asked. He’d do it even if you didn’t too.

But he stayed quiet. And he watched as you left him their on the floor. You cared so little for him.

He savored the backwards glance you threw his way.

Fuck.

[matan4il]

Buddie 610 meta

Holy shit, this ep.

Okay, what shall we start with? Maybe with what 911 itself starts, lots of foreshadowing. At the beach call, we have Eddie looking at Buck and replying to him (about the lightning), “I really hope it doesn’t strike twice, though.” Which, of course we know it will. But the foreshadowing continues, as Buck talks to Omar about unexpected things in life coming out of nowhere. That suggests we need to pay extra attention to other elements in this ep that might act as foreshadowing for later events along 6b. ~~

That kind of connects to me with Buck being closely tied to Ely, the pregnant lady (he saves the day there twice, first by realizing the oil is dripping and if they use the saw, it might prove fatal, then by helping Bobby with the baby). First off, it made me chuckle when we learned that, despite being driven to the hospital by a man, he’s actually not her partner. 911 made sure we knew Ely has a wife, and that she has another kid with her. Is it a coincidence when Buck, who practically has a husband and a kid with him already, is the main firefighter taking care of her? Maybe, but it still amused me. What really made me take note is when he told her not to push, trying to stall her childbirth, and she replied that it doesn’t depend on her. That made me wonder if perhaps this is also in a way foreshadowing what we might end up seeing with the sperm donation storyline. I’m not sure, I can’t be, but I was not surprised to see that storyline brought up later in the ep. ~~

In general, this ep’s title, “In a Flash,” might seem to refer to the lightning storm the team experiences, but the real tempest is the havoc our families can wreak on us, tied to the unexpected nature change can sometimes take on. Chim’s dad suddenly shows up, raining on his parade. Albert suddenly thinks Chim should give their dad a chance to be Jee Yun’s grandpa, but decides against giving his brother a warning. The Buckley parents are suddenly making an effort, yet leaving everyone suspicious and unnerved. Albert suddenly leaks Buck’s sperm donation to everyone and unleashes hell between the in-laws. Denny’s changes, probably influenced by getting in touch with his dad, come as a surprise to Hen. And of course, at the climax of the ep, Bobby as the unofficial adoptive father of Buck might lose his son in a flash. The whole ep is filled with these parallels of abrupt familial disquiet, especially in relation to dads, on all 118 fronts. And as Buck deals with maybe the biggest of these questions, because he doesn’t even yet know what he wants for himself and how does the life he helped create (but only as a donor) fit into that, it’s no wonder his life ends up hanging literally in the balance. ~~

One of the most painful things in this ep for me was seeing how much Buck’s parents are willing to accept him as a donor, because not for a second do they think he can be a father. That would be the natural conclusion from him looking at a sonogram on his phone, but his parents find it easier to believe their daughter is pregnant again than to think Buck would be a dad (ironic, because he already is one. Just not to the baby in the sonogram). It reminded me of how Eddie’s parents also didn’t believe in his ability to be a dad, and actively petitioned to have Chris taken from him to be raised by them in 315. It amazes me every time anew just how much Buddie are compatible, because their stories parallel so much that they can understand each other in ways most other people can’t. ~~

And it gets to me that this whole episode also insists on reminding us how good Buck is with kids, first with the ones on the beach, calming them down and answering their questions to help them make sense of the whole ordeal. Then with Ely’s baby, a callback to how we saw him with the pipe baby in 101. It connects to him looking at the baby sonogram, all excited, once again acting so much like an expectant dad would (parallel to him and the firefighter onesie in 609), when we know he’s not actually going to be that baby’s father. It very much does feel like 911 is signaling to us Buck has some realizations coming his way in this context. ~~

Speaking of the kids on the beach, Buck telling the boy he wants to fix everything, then adding that Buck gets it, had me screaming into my fists, because hey, remember who said that to Buck? That’s right, his Eddie, back in 504. A reminder of how much Eddie sees Buck, accepts him and allows him to be himself, enabling Buck in turn to reflect that back to that kid. Of course, in the context of the sperm donation, Buck’s tendency made him want to help “fix” things for Connor and Kameron, and we might learn in 6b that Buck comes to realize he sometimes lets this tendency take him to places that aren’t actually good for him, without fully considering the consequences, and then hopefully, he’ll get to find a way to balance this, to be himself, but not derailed from his life goals by this part of himself. ~~

At the same time that the ep shows us how good Buck is with kids, it also serves to remind us of the one kid that we’ve seen him co-parent all along, the one who has always demonstrated what a good, loving dad Buck is, Christopher. Yes, when we see Buck working on his cooking with Bobby, it’s a part of the many parallels revolving around dads in this ep, so Buck and Bobby’s r/s is the immediate focus, but at the same time, we know who Buck is learning this FOR. Lazania kitchen scene from 601, anyone? Oh, but the best part? It’s when Buck tells Bobby, “Something’s missing.” He can’t quite put the finger on what, but he knows something in his domesticity isn’t fully there. I wonder what, Buck... And this is again in an ep full of foreshadowing! ~~

It may seem like a minor thing, but remember how in my past meta, I was more or less losing it over the many times Buck and Eddie did rope rescues together as their own team within the 118 team, even having their assigned roles where Eddie connects Buck to the line and then becomes an anchor himself to keep Buck safe, to the point where I wrote a smut fic involving this very meaningful act? Yeah, so imagine me seeing that the most intense Buddie call we’ve had since the end of 413 starts with them doing this subtextually intimate thing, Eddie hooking Buck up to the rope, becoming his literal life line, and even teasingly calling him “cowboy” while at it. No, I was not breathing for a full minute at least. ~~

But since I brought up the shooting in 413, can we talk about the insanity of the parallels? Take the meaningful staring once disaster strikes. Back in s4, it was mutual, right before Eddie collapsed. In 610, Buck is unconscious, so you wouldn’t think they could stare at each other at this moment, right? Plus, back in 413, it was just the two of them present at the scene out of the 118, the other members of the team weren’t there. The lightning strike seems a lot less intimate in comparison... But in this ep, the camera plays a role in recreating that same dynamic, singling out the connection between Buddie. Because when Buck is hit by lightning, we get shots of every 118 member looking up and being terrified of what just happened to their friend.

The only exception in terms of this shot? Eddie. He’s the only one that isn’t being filmed from the side as he looks up, he’s filmed from above as he looks straight into the camera. Essentially, the shot recreates Buck’s POV for Eddie, and for him alone. It shows us what Buck would see and how he would stare down, back at Eddie, if he only could. The fact that the camera has to do this instead of Buck himself further emphasizes the horror of Buck being unconscious, but the choice to do this only with Eddie highlights their connection and makes it clear that Buddie’s bond IS different to what the other team members have with Buck, no matter how close the others are to him or how much they love him. What’s insane is that DESPITE having all of the 118 there, there is still a bubble within this whole situation that is Buddie and Buddie’s alone, even as Buck himself is unconscious. It’s no wonder Eddie jumps up that electrocuted ladder without even thinking about it, it’s no wonder no one even tries to stop him or warn him of the danger in that. That is a man on a mission to save the other half of him, and the show tells us that in more than one way.

That’s gonna continue through Eddie’s attempts (and eventual success) in getting Buck away from immediate danger, as well as when the team tries but then fails to revive Buck, because Eddie will be the one to push past Bobby to see Buck, and Eddie will be the one Bobby has to keep in line by assigning him driving duty, maybe the most important thing anyone can do for Buck once all the medical assistance they can give him in the field is of no further use. ~~

One more thing regarding the comparison with the shooting arc in s4, as well as talking about camera shots, is that we get to see the difference between a platonic friend resuscitating his teammate and a man desperately trying to keep the love of his life alive. If you look at Chim doing compressions on Buck, he’s giving it his all, because he DOES love Buck, Chim’s doing his best for his friend and brother in law. But the shot is not an intimate one, we don’t get close ups, we don’t get to focus on the eyes and see the frantic look of a man who knows he CAN’T fail, we don’t see the intimate touch of a hand laying a gauze on an exposed chest and trying to keep this treasured body together, we do get “come on, Buck,” but we don’t get personal speech, begging the other man to hold on and just “stay with me.” While back in 414, in the ambulance, we had ALL of those as Buck, almost on the verge of losing his sanity, fought for Eddie’s life. ~~

Lastly, I’ve made in the past a gifset of times when we’ve seen Buck screaming Eddie’s name in horror at the face of danger (including in 413), and I love that we can finally add to that Eddie doing the same thing for Buck. But I think it’s particularly meaningful that it happened not as a matter of when Buck would be in danger, but rather it was a question of just how significant Buck had to become to Eddie for this former, highly decorated soldier to go from the stoic man he was in 218 to what we see in 610 (as seen in my latest weekly gifset). Because Eddie WAS incredibly worried back in the s2 finale. He was gritting his teeth, you can see the tension on his face, and the second it was safe, he sprang to Buck’s side. Eddie also held on to him while everyone else was lifting the truck (even though Chim, as a medic, would have been a more natural choice to hold on to Buck, while Eddie the firefighter helps lift engine 118). And Eddie wouldn’t even let go of Buck’s hand on the way to the truck. HE WAS DISTRAUGHT. But the man who kept his facade up in the hospital after Shannon, his wife and mother of his son, died just one ep earlier, did the same thing with Buck. What I find so telling is that he can no longer do that by 610. Buck has become such an integral part of his life, of his family, of who Eddie is as a person and how he deals with life, way more than even Shannon managed to be. And that’s why Eddie loses it, confirming what we’ve known for a while: Buddie are life partners. ~~

I now have direct links to my weekly meta posts, my Buddie gifs and more of my content in my pinned post. Loads of love to @whosoldherout​​ for making unbelievable gifs for my very unique requests. You’re a star! Tag list will follow in the reblog. Thank you in advance for any reblog and like! I’m operating on 1.5 hours of sleep to get this posted ASAP, so I really appreciate any and all encouragement to keep doing this. xoxox

[semperama]

hiii, for the ask game, i would love nr 7 (i dreamt about you last night) for buddie! ✨️

This is probably not what you had in mind when you sent this prompt, and I'm sorry!! It got a little angsty on me. Also long.

“I dreamt about you last night.”

----

Buck wakes up to sheets soaked with sweat, a scream halfway out of his mouth. His ears are still ringing with gunfire, sirens. His heart is pounding, his lungs pulling desperately at the air. He paws at his face, his neck, looks at his hands in the semi-dark and expects them to be stained black with blood.

But it’s just clean skin. He’s alone in his bedroom, legs tangled in the blankets, no copper taste on his tongue.

It was a dream. Just a dream.

The fourth time he’s had the same dream in as many nights.

He throws back the covers and gets out of bed, goes into the bathroom where he turns on the light and splashes water on his face, like that might wash it all the way. They always do it in the movies, the water trick. He wonders if it ever works for them. It doesn’t work for him.

Even when he’s awake, he sees it. The blank expression on Eddie’s face. The pool of blood spreading across the asphalt. The way Eddie’s hand moved. He reached for Buck like Buck could save him, and Buck tried, but it doesn’t feel like it was enough. Even though Eddie’s alive—it was because the bullet missed vital organs, and because the surgeons knew what they were doing. But if he’d been hit a couple inches to the left…Buck couldn’t have done anything. Eddie might still have reached for him, but all he would have been able to do was watch him die.

“Fuck,” he mutters, then splashes himself with another handful of cold water. He can’t—won’t—go back to bed, so he shuts off the faucet and goes downstairs, curls up on the couch and turns the TV on.

He should nod off again. He’s tired enough to. But he knows by now what will happen if he does, the worst moment of his life in technicolor, surround sound. So he stays awake, until the gray light of dawn crowds out the darkness beyond his windows.

———

The nightmares didn’t start until Buck went home. The nights he slept on the Diaz couch were quiet and dreamless, either because he was too exhausted or too numb. He went to work, did the necessary chores, helped Christopher with his homework and cooked him dinner. His body ran on autopilot and his mind stayed blissfully blank, and at night he dropped off to sleep like someone pulled his plug.

But it’s been almost a week since Eddie got home, five days since he sent Buck back to the loft. You’ll kill your back sleeping on that couch much longer. I’ll call you if you need you. Buck hasn’t gotten more than four hours of sleep in a night since.

“You look like shit,” Chim says when Buck clomps up the stairs for breakfast at the start of their next shift. And Buck knows it’s the truth. He saw himself in the mirror this morning. His eyes are bloodshot, and the circles under them have darkened into a bruised shade of purple. His hands have been shaking so much, he keeps them stuffed into his pockets or curled around something—the strap of his bag, a coffee mug.

Bobby’s busy chopping a handful of chives, but when he looks up, Buck knows immediately what he’s going to say.

“Go home, Buck,” Bobby says. “You know you’re no use to us like this.”

What the fuck am I going to do at home? Buck wants to ask—but he also knows Bobby’s right. In his current state, he’d end up jamming the Jaws into his own leg, or throw himself off the side of a building before clipping in.

Maybe neither would be so bad, though. Maybe a different kind of pain would be a relief.

Regardless, he can’t go home. He sits inside the Jeep in the parking lot for almost ten minutes, hands curled around the steering wheel, wondering if a nap here would end up the same way. Then, he starts up the engine and drives to Eddie’s.

It takes a while for Eddie to get to the door, and Buck realizes too late he’s probably sleeping. It’s early, and the painkillers always make him tired, and Buck should have just—let him sleep. Someone should be getting some sleep.

“Why didn’t you just come in?” Eddie asks when he sees it’s Buck on his doorstep. He looks—soft. His hair is sleep-rumpled. He’s not wearing a shirt, his sling strapped across his bare chest, and soft black sweatpants sit low on his hips. Buck wants to lean in and bury his face into the place where his shoulder meets his neck.

“Not sure,” Buck says honestly. His brain isn’t working right, probably. How could it, when it’s wrapped in three layers of cotton?

Eddie steps back to let him in, a furrow forming in his brow. “Wait, aren’t you supposed to be at work?” he says. “And why do you look like—is everything okay?”

Buck shuffles in just enough for Eddie to shut the door behind him. “I had a dream about you,” he says, dropping his gaze to the floor. He feels like a child, showing up in his parents’ bedroom in the middle of the night to cry about the monsters in his closet. Or—it’s how he imagines it must feel. His own parents certainly weren’t interested in protecting him from the things that go bump in the night.

“A dream?” Eddie repeats. He takes a step forward, puts a hand on Buck’s shoulder, and ducks his head to meet his eyes.

“More than one, actually.” Buck doesn’t want to look at him, but he knows he won’t stand for it. “Every night.” His voice cracks. “The sniper.”

“Buck.” Eddie’s hand tightens on him, grips hard enough to hurt. It’s good. Grounding. Buck wants to beg him to leave a bruise. “Why didn’t you say something?

“You’re the one who got shot,” Buck says. “What right do I have to even—”

“No, hey.” Eddie moves in closer, his hand kneading Buck’s shoulder, only a few inches of space between them now. “For me, it was just…pain, and-and your face, and then black. For you…I’ve been in your shoes before, too. I know how scary it can be.”

Buck wants to reach for him, but there’s no safe place to put his hands—the soft skin of Eddie’s waist, the pillow crease that slashes across the side of his face. “I almost didn’t save you.” Finally, Buck touches Eddie’s elbow, just gently, with the tips of his fingers. “I froze, Eddie.” His breath hitches. He can feel his face start to crumple. “I almost didn’t—”

“Oh, Buck.” Eddie yanks him in, guides Buck’s forehead to that spot Buck wanted to nestle into moments ago, holds him close. It’s awkward with Eddie’s bum arm smushed between them, his knuckles digging into Buck’s stomach, but it’s also perfect, because Eddie is warm and alive, his heart beating and blood rushing through his veins and lungs expanding, his breath ruffling Buck’s hair. “I’m here,” he murmurs, his fingers scratching into the hair at the back of Buck’s head. “I’m fine. You did save me, okay? I’m right here.”

Buck cries. For how long, he doesn’t know. Shaky sobs into Eddie’s shoulder, Eddie’s skin going slick under his cheek. His arms curl around Eddie’s waist, and his fingers dig in, clinging. Eddie almost died, but he didn’t die. He’s here, and he’s solid, and he’s real. Buck doesn’t ever want to let go of him again.

“Here, why don’t we…” Eddie says after some indeterminate amount of time, shifting to wrap his arm around Buck’s shoulders and tug. “Come on. Come lay down with me. You need sleep.”

“Yeah,” Buck says, a strangled sound. He lifts his head enough to walk under his own power, but he won’t stop touching Eddie, one arm still wound around him, their hips brushing all the way down the hall.

In the bedroom, he makes himself let go of Eddie long enough that Eddie can rearrange himself in bed, get into a position that’s comfortable for his shoulder. Buck climbs in carefully, but as soon as he starts to settle, Eddie pulls him closer, manhandles him so his face is tucked against Eddie’s neck again, that spot starting to feel like it was made just for him, two puzzle pieces fitting together.

“Sleep,” Eddie says, and soon, Buck does.

He falls into dreams of Eddie, but this time it’s different—not the sniper, not any other disaster. He dreams of Eddie and Chris at the zoo, gilded with sunlight. He dreams of Eddie grinning up at him during a rope rescue. He dreams of warm skin, warm breath, strong fingers pressing bruises into his hips.

He sleeps, and he dreams of Eddie.

[whateverisbeautiful]

♥️Reveling in Richonne - TOWL

#22: The Trouble in 'Paradise' (1.03)

gif cred: @perryabbott

Rick's note in the getaway boat didn't get Michonne to leave...but it did get Dana Bethune to disappear 😋...

After breaking Michonne’s heart the night before in an attempt to save her, Rick is walking around in his CRM uniform and approaches Jadis with a salute. Jadis says, “State your business, soldier” and Rick informs her, “She’s gone. And you’re helping me make her stay gone.”

Jadis, who seems to be more aware than Rick rn that Michonne would never just leave him here, asks, “How is she gone?” Rick answers, “I made it look like she died trying. I know I needed to stay to get her away so I’m here.”

It’s interesting how Rick seems so resolved about this. Like I know the night of the getaway he had to be in his apartment a whole devastated mess about what he’s had to do to get Michonne home, but now in front of Jadis, he’s not going to show her how much it pained him to have to send her away and stay stuck here.

Also, Rick has been in sacrifice mode for literal years and so I think he’s just swallowed this Michonne sendoff as yet another sacrifice he has to make as the dead man who gets no personal wins that he’s been living as.

Jadis, who for once in her life is onto something says, “She actually left without you. I don’t believe that, Rick.” Lol I think Jadis really thinks Rick is pulling a fast one and lying about Michonne leaving but no, Rick has got himself so convinced that tricking her to leave was for the best and that Michonne would actually do it and leave. It's another indicator that it's clearly been some years and he's gotten a little hazy on remembering Michonne would never just leave him in the dead of night like that.

gif cred: @taiturner

Rick responds, “She didn’t know she was leaving without me.” And I was like - Rick, doesn’t that break your heart? Cuz it breaks mine. Knowing that the only reason Michonne ‘left’ was because she trusted his plan and thought he was coming with her. And now as far as he knows she’s had to mourn losing her husband yet again. And this time because he seemingly ‘wanted’ it that way.

That's gotta hurt Rick to think about, but again I think Rick is so laser-focused on how this is how it has to be that I don’t think he’s letting himself even fully process how hurtful what he did is to Michonne. 

Jadis asks if Rick still wants to kill her, calling back to their conversation earlier when she says, “You still see that?” Rick starts nearing his full petty form when he says, “Maybe I was just dreaming” suggesting killing her would be a dream lol. And then he calls back to Negan and Jadis' old saying, “People are a resource.”

He continues, “You’re part of this now.” and quotes Jadis saying, “‘Our fates are bound.” I know he’s basically like 'look, I need you to help sell this story of what happened to Dana and that is the only reason you get to live another day.'

gif cred: @coolpartytimefan

Rick tells Jadis how he found a walker body close enough to Michonne's, put it in a consignment uniform, and tore its face and scalp off. He says the story is Dana fell, hit her head on the rocks and walkers got her. Then he gives Jadis some orders saying, “You just make sure you’re on the investigation as soon as they find out she’s missing.”

I was like buddy, they aren’t going to find out she’s missing but you are going to find out who your wife is after maybe getting a little hazy about Michonne Grimes. 😅

Jadis says she’ll “make sure to be on point when Dana goes gone” and also that her hands are clean if anything goes down. Then she says, “And if you do want to make your dream come true - kill me while we’re nose to nose. I already left them all the answers you don’t want them to have.” Don't tempt us with a good time now, Jadis.

Also, the way Rick stares at her and subtly rolls his eyes before walking away, it's like you can see the moment the hair insult pops in his head before he says it lol. 🤭

And then Jadis tries Richonne to capacity yet again when she has the audacity to tell Rick, “You say you did it for her. I’m sure that that is true but I wonder if it isn’t something else that's keeping you here. Again, I did save your life.” Disgusting. 😒 I know that serpent didn’t just try to imply that Rick might've sent Michonne away because he had the hots for the trash lady/his captor. She lost her damn mind with that comment. Truly. 🙃

gif cred: @jake-wheeler

Rick gives Jadis' suggestive comment no mind as he just brings it back to Michonne and says, “Well now you get to save hers.”

gif cred: @jake-wheeler

And then Petty Rick reaches his final form with this...

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And the eyebrow-raise tho. 🤭 He knows he ate her up. Lol this moment had me dying and I love how this is Rick’s way of letting Jadis know that not even in her dreams would he be staying here cuz he wants her.

gif cred: @nerd4music

And the way Jadis reacts, it seems like Rick knew the right button to push cuz she smiles but looks offended as she walks away. And honestly, I’m here for Rick throwing shade because Jadis’ little slick comments and come-ons - that I don’t even think are rooted in actually liking him but more rooted in liking that it makes him uncomfortable - are harassment and so she needed to step all the way back. ✋🏽

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The second Jadis walks off, Rick gets a vibrating notification from Pearl. He comes over to the consignee area and stands at attention behind Pearl who's watching the consignees with her arms crossed and a scowl.

She turns to Rick and says, “You’re in real trouble now Sergeant Major'' and yes he is…just not with the CRM lol. 🙂

gif cred: @nat111love

The way Rick is looking at Pearl like 'what now?' not even realizing that who he’s in real trouble with is actually among the consignees. But he quickly realizes once he looks out and sees the baddest chick in the game on a walker-killing rampage.

gif cred: @nat111love

And then Rick's face lol. 🤭 I’m glad that now I can watch and laugh and kiki over all this cuz with my first watch, everything was just making me overwhelmed cuz both my poor babies are going through it. 🫠

But now it cracks me up to see Rick realize the only person who thought Michonne was out of here was him. Cuz she is very much still in this place and not even as Dana anymore but as Michonne Grimes herself. 😬

gif cred: @nat111love

Michonne is clearly frustrated as she takes out these walkers and honestly, it really tracks with her character to be like this right now since killing walkers has always been one of the ways she processes emotions. Season 3 at Woodbury. Season 4 after the prison fell. Season 5 when out with Sasha and Rosita. And in season 9 during restless nights when she couldn’t sleep. So with so much to process after Rick’s note in the getaway boat, it makes sense she’d be going ham on the walkers during her shift. 

And again I declare my client innocent of all claims that she’s being ‘dumb’ or whatever people say for not playing the B role. Is she showing who she is right now? - yes. But she knows that and the thing is...she doesn’t care to hide rn. She’s seen the way this place tries to strip you of who you are. They stripped the strongest man she knows - Rick - of who he is and made him lose his mind to the point that he thought he could just send her away and she’d leave.

So I really think she’s just not having it. She’s over the CRM. This place doesn’t get to make her bury herself thus losing herself - a pain worse than death as Rick would attest.

gif cred: @nat111love

And also she’s allowed to let emotions get the best of her sometimes as she is understandably pissed. The man she loves and trusts most, the man she's sacrificed so much to find, just tried to abruptly send her away for good and basically told her that leaving him behind is the one way to show she loves him. That is a special kind of hurt that could stir up many blinding emotions.

Plus, it’s been what? over a decade of an apocalypse. It's really not crazy that she'd be a pro at taking out walkers by now. Even Eugene is a pro at walker-killing at this point. 🤷🏽‍♀️

Now, yes, the way she's killing them is too A-ish. But idk, the CRM should just be grateful she's doing this to walkers and not soldiers if you ask me lol.

As Michonne stays focused on taking out as many walkers as possible, consignees like Cleo and others stop to take notice and admire Michonne, impressed. And then Rick sorta nods like 'yep that’s Michonne 🙂'...but also 'yep that’s Michonne, not a Dana in sight.😟'

gif cred: @nat111love

Michonne comes out of kill mode to catch her breath, paying no mind to the other consignees' oohs and ahhs, just like Rick when he broke the kill record. And then she looks up and sees Rick and gives him a look that shows she is not going to be playing around with this man.

gif cred: @nat111love

Pearl notes how Michonne said during intake that she was looking for safety in numbers and that helped her make her case. And then she says, “Thing is, she doesn’t look like someone who relies on others for safety.” And one; can I just reiterate that I love that we have a show where Richonne drives every scene of the plot. It’s great. 🤩

Also, I like the irony of this line because Pearl is actually looking at the only man Michonne does look to for safety.

As Pearl stares at Rick, clearly very hesitant about this whole Dana situation, Rick just stays quiet. Pearl walks away and then Rick looks out and sees Michonne is the last one standing and staring Rick down in a way that would have anybody shaking in their boots before she just walks away.

gif cred: @nat111love

Michonne's look said, 'that's right, Rick...

Then I really love the pan up to the 'Grimes 68' on the wall. It implies that the kill record has just been broken and while they have to change the number now, they don’t have to change the last name.

And of course, the Grimes are the ones to set new records up in this place. The only person who could beat Rick’s years-long record is his wife. 

gif cred: @chaoticroad

So then Michonne is walking and she hears Rick say, “Keep walking” and I always smile seeing how she hears that and immediately stops walking lol. It just instantly tells you the energy of how this exchange is about to go.

gif cred: @coolpartytimefan

Rick stands behind her in his CRM helmet and gear and the visual again feels like a reminder that Michonne found Sergeant Major Grimes but not her Rick just yet.

Rick says, “Ahead and to the right. We can talk.” And Michonne stands there for a moment, clearly fed up. I know she’s not exactly itching to go where Rick tells her after his recent behavior.

gif cred: @coolpartytimefan

After stopping for a sec, Michonne sorta rolls her eyes before heading to the right to 'talk' - even tho her communication when they're alone won’t require any words.

And the way Rick pauses for a moment as she struts off without even looking at him...I know he’s nervous about this chat. Appreciating her feisty walk and also nervous lol. 😅

gif cred: @coolpartytimefan

So then when they finally have some privacy it low key looks like Rick is getting in Michonne's personal space and idk if it’s to be on some lovey timing or some stern ‘you were supposed to go’ timing. I’ll never know because Michonne sets the tone immediately when she rips Rick’s helmet off and throws it. I'm quite here for it tbh. 😊

gif cred: @figmentof

Like I know Michonne is so sick and tired of the CRM, and that helmet covering her man’s face is just another reminder that they have a hold on him. That her Rick is buried under the mask of the CRM.

And the way Michonne ripped off the helmet you can tell she wants to go ham on anyone who is keeping her Rick away from her including Sergeant Major Grimes himself.

She does the helmet rip-off smooth too and it quickly lets Rick know just how upset she is.

The move seems to take Rick very much off guard as he steps back and just breathes and stares at her for a while, knowing Michonne hasn’t had this type of energy with him since like season 3. Again, since he'd been so convinced that sending her away like that was for the best and an act of love, he wasn't thinking about how extremely hurtful it was to her too...But he knows now.

Also, I think because he’s sorta out of practice in remembering his wife does not play he thought maybe he was going to take over in this conversation and tell her how things gotta be but that's not how you roll up on Michonne Grimes.

gif cred: @ricksmarlene

And so instead Rick takes a different approach by trying to explain himself. 

gif cred: @coolpartytimefan

Rick shares, “All these years, the only way I wasn’t killed was one man saving my life over and over.” And Michonne looks at him just like 'this better be good.'

Rick says, “The only way you get away is if someone is here making sure.” Then it makes me so sad to hear the vulnerability and defeatedness in his voice as he says, “It’s taken me years to know I can’t go anymore. I asked for help, I didn’t get it.” 😢

That part always gets me because he’s saying he tried to do this himself and then he even tried to get help from others but was ultimately left hanging. Even tho I was like Rick, you did get it, because the one woman who can most help you is here and you’re looking at her right now.

gif cred: @coolpartytimefan

Rick tries to help Michonne see, “To get away, you need someone on the inside” and then I hear those more tender Richonne tones when Rick says, “I’m that for you.”

It’s hard because you can tell he thinks this is a good thing he’s doing for her but Michonne is understandably looking at him like, 'How can you just decide that without me?' Rick has been so focused on Michonne being his choice that he hasn’t exactly stopped to consider what her choice is in all this. And again, her choice is him too.

Often people who love really hard have a hard time grasping that others can love them just as deeply. So while every choice Rick makes is because his wife is his choice, he’ll have to see that he and their family is Michonne’s choice and she too will do anything for him and them.

Plus, Rick really forgot that he and Michonne are the same which means they aren’t letting anyone choose anything for them including Rick trying to choose when and how Michonne leaves this place. She’s been through way too much to just let him choose that for her.

gif cred: @coolpartytimefan

So I already thought Rick’s last part of his letter was problematic but then Sergeant Major wants to say it all over again to her face which was just not the move. 🤦🏽‍♀️

He looks at Michonne with his eyes serious and pained as he says, “I said that if you loved me…you’d go.” And eye personally said Rick, let's not say that ever again. One time was already too much. 🙃

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not losing sight of the fact that Rick is saying this from a place of immense trauma and not grasping that he is as valued by Michonne as she is to him so she would never just leave him here just like he would never have just left her here. But still, this is Rick almost trying to put Michonne’s love in question in a manipulative way.

But also the way he says it, it just reminded me that Rick has not been on the receiving end of love for almost a decade so he’s seeming to forget that Richonne’s love means they don’t split up. Throughout TOWL, I think Rick and Michonne both had to get reacquainted with how much the other loves them and is loyal to them.

gif cred: @isisnicole

So then Michonne reminds us all that she always be knowing what to say - and sometimes with no words needed to say it as she gives Rick a very expressive silent reaction. And I like the choice, that I believe I heard Danai was behind, to have Michonne not say anything in the scene. It makes it all the more impactful especially because Richonne really can have full-blown conversations with each other without uttering a word.

And when Rick pulls this line yet again Michonne tilts her head and just smiles looking so pretty and still peeved because she’s like 'of course I love you, you sweet sweet fool.'

In fact, it’s because she loves him so much that she’s even standing here right now. I know for Michonne hearing Rick say this again has to be more salt in the wound because she’s gone through so much in the name of her love for him and their family and so for him to essentially suggest if she really loved him she would have left was just so not it. 😪

gif cred: @perryabbott

The way Michonne responds I feel like a whole lot is swirling through her head. Like I wonder if she’s thinking what I was thinking in this moment which is - Rick, if she loved you, she’d have your baby. If she loved you she’d spend the last eight years so committed to you that no man replaced you in her or your children’s life.

If she loved you, she’d learn that you're alive and sacrifice time with her kids, getting attacked by the CRM, recovering for a year, and being plopped into the Civic Republic's consignment because her husband told her it’s the only way, just to find you again. Since she loves you she’s standing in front of you right now and not halfway to Alexandria.

Rick’s previous relationships saw him being someone who poured more into others than they did to him. And in a way he tried to start doing that with Michonne, thinking it’d be fine if he just poured into and protected her while he’s left out to dry…but she had to remind him they are far too equal in their outpouring of love and commitment for him to not get love and protection back.

gif cred: @nat111love

I love how when Michonne looks at him with that layered smile that says so much, she and Rick proceed to have a whole conversation with just their eyes. Like Michonne smiles, clearly hurt and frustrated, and then Rick stares at her and blinks and whatever she says with her eyes seems to rock Rick. Because then he looks at her and just steps back shaken.

But Michonne actually honors Rick’s wishes here because he said 'If you love me, you’ll go' and she’s like 'welp since I do love you let me go ahead and excuse myself right now and go instead of going off.' And her quietly composed approach and walk-off have Rick really shook to his core. The man looks like he legit wants to puke over having his wife be mad at him and knowing he has to go back to the drawing board to figure out how to get her back home alive.

gif cred: @isisnicole

Michonne has always had such an effect on Rick because just her staying quiet and composed and walking away had Rick doubled over with his eyes wide like he was socked in the stomach or something.

Y’all, this is also further proof that they’re magnets because when they’re off-kilter and walking away from each other like this it has them feeling straight-up ill. 

This was a really well-done scene and Rick really does embody the viral tweet “My wife is mad at me. I hope I die.” because he looks like Michonne being upset with him is a worse pain than chopping off his own hand.

gif cred: @andy-clutterbuck

It’s interesting seeing Rick and Michonne at the beginning of one of their biggest conflicts. And they truly still feel so married even in the way they approach this conflict. Like yes, they’re at odds but you know neither of them is just giving up on the other. Deep love is still at the foundation of all of this.

So while Michonne doesn’t say anything verbally to Rick in this scene - saving it for another time when she can really let it out - she does have someone she wants to open up to. And that’s her daughter, Judith. 🥲

And as Michonne proceeds to wonder if Rick has nearly become too far gone - she ends up having the exact encounter she needs to be reminded of the bigger 'picture.' 😌🤳

[revehae]

(It’s a long one but I hope you read it ah)

i don’t know If you’re not taking requests atm then ignore this but it’s more so a little reminder ? I don’t really know 😭 but awhile ago you wrote a drabble someone requested and it was a jaemin, haechan, jeno, mark, and jisung x reader ? It was a noncon gangbang fic and they were all holding reader down and I think it was Jaemin who was going first and was going to go anal and all the other guys were egging him on waiting for their turns.

I always wanted a continuation / longer version but now I just want it back it was one of my favs 😭 I don’t think you have it saved cuz it wasn’t like a oneshot or anything but if you are able to find it please post it or even if you can rewrite it please when you find the time do I love your writing so so much sorry for the long ramble ah

tw // noncon, gangbanging, anal it was jeno not jaemin lol but yes i still have it. the “five guys doing some serious damage to my guts rn” “6 when i get there” drabble

you tried your best, you really did, but you were unfathomably outnumbered. unfairly. it was enough attempting to rival jeno’s infinite strength, but you didn’t stand a chance against five guys.

especially not when they were all holding you onto the mattress, restricting you with a might you’d never be able to mirror even if you trained for literal war. mark and jisung had a grip on your legs and jaemin kept your hands pinned to your chest, while haechan had a palm pressed squarely to your mouth.

and jeno, unsurprisingly, stood between your forcibly parted legs, palming his rigid cock to the erotic sight unfolding before him. your panties were torn (mark’s doing, if you recalled correctly), exposing your cunt, and jaemin had harshly tugged your bra to pinch your stiff nipples.

a downpour of fresh, damp tears were hot against your flushed cheeks, gathering thickly at your lashes. jeno liked how you, unbroken, still flailed and thrashed in their arms, in spite of the glaringly obvious fact that you were no match for the five of them together.

you squealed into haechan’s gloved palm, your probably unkind words of protest muffled into an empty oblivion as jeno’s cock teased your holes, deciding which one he’d use.

“take her ass,” haechan told him, snickering when you glimpsed up at him in a mixture of shock and unadulterated anger for the suggestion.

“her ass, huh?” jeno hummed, slowly dragging his cock below your exposed pussy.

“do it,” jisung encouraged from his left like a little devil on his shoulder.

jeno snickered. glancing up at you, he grinned slyly and said, “guess i’m fucking your ass, baby.”

you shook your head vigorously, aggressively expressing your lack of consent, but your indistinct sounds meant nothing to them and your thrashing was pointless if there was nowhere for you to run.

jeno sinked into your hole, a satisfied howl being yanked out of him as he did, impaling you deeper and deeper on his girthy cock. it’s too thick for your unprepped hole, but jeno didn’t seem to care, and neither did any of his buddies.

“fuck,” jeno hissed in delight, wasting no time to start rutting into you at a steady rhythm.

jaemin laughs at the expression on his friend’s face, patiently anticipating his own turn to use you as he pleased. it was going to be a long night for you. “it’s good?”

“fuck yeah,” jeno grunted, pushing deep, forcing himself as far inside as he could possibly fit. the pain was too unbearable for you to stay still, writhing and sobbing, but jeno was too blissed out to pay any mind to your tears.

your asshole tensed around his dick, gripping and tugging him in, and the longer jeno was exposed to the tightening sensation, the more animalistic his thrusts became. and the louder your screams grew against haechan’s covered hand, coated in your hot tears. 

haechan smacked your cheek. “shut up,” he said lowly, growling. “shut up before i put that mouth of yours to better use.”

you closed your eyes, trying to isolate yourself from the brutal reality, hopeful that maybe you’ll forget the feeling of their fingers bruising your limbs from how tightly they held them and jeno relentlessly abusing your hole.