#maybe this is the result of that near bursting I mentioned

[katyswrites]

don't call me 'baby'

PART 10 | SERIES

Pairing: Steve Harrington/fem!reader

Warnings: Sugardaddy!Steve, SMUT (18+), angst, mentions of pregnancy/a pregnancy scare, mentions of food and alcohol, unprotected p in v, daddy kink, oral sex (f receiving), creampie, ddlg dynamics, swearing, alcohol use, smoking, age gap, no use of y/n

Wordcount: 10.4K

A sugar daddy modern AU, a whirlwind summer romance in Italy, and two people from completely different walks of life, somehow finding each other in one of the most beautiful cities in the world. But, what will happen when summer ends?

PART 10 | meet me in the afterglow

FOUR MONTHS LATER

Your walk to work was chilly enough to warrant a coat. That was perhaps the thing you missed least about home in the U.S. - even though the winters certainly got cold here, it was nowhere near the sub-zero temperatures you had grown up with during the coldest time of year. Maybe the only thing you missed was snow - in all of your time living here, you had only gotten a brief dusting once, and it had melted by the following day.

Still, a week out from Christmas, you now needed to wrap something warm around yourself as you walked down the street, heading closer to the city center as your shift was due to start. 

You were technically two minutes late to your shift, the coffee shop busy enough to have a line going out the door when you arrived. Yet, your manager Francesco said nothing - a small spark of joy in your day. 

You didn’t necessarily need to go back to work - Steve’s money had yet to run out. But, you felt good about earning your own money - and, the less you had to draw on his remaining funds, the less you had to think about him.

You hadn’t seen or spoken to Steve since the night of your argument. Well, that was only partially true - you had received one piece of communication from him. It came a few days later - you had been moping in your apartment, having barely left your room for days, when an envelope arrived. It had his familiar writing and wax seal, with another wad of cash and a letter made out to you:

I promise this is the last you’ll hear from me. I am a man of my word, so I promise to help provide for you until you’re finished with school. I’ll be transferring enough money to your account to cover all of your expenses, so no need to worry about your rent, food, anything of the sort… I really do want you to be able to focus on school, okay? So, please don’t protest, or try to send the money back. Please feel free to use the credit card if you need to. 

I’m sorry it ended this way. We both knew it was going to, but I apologize if I said anything out of line the other night. I truly do wish you the best. 

Take care,

Steve

Reading it had been a punch to the gut. The formality of it, the finality of it… you would’ve rather that you never heard from him again. You had stashed the letter in a box under your bed, and not looked at it since.

A few weeks after that, you had pregnancy scare. It was silly, really - but, your period was late, and if was the first conclusion your mind had jumped to. You had called Robin in a panic, begging her to come home - she did, with four different brands of pregnancy tests. Those 15 minutes of waiting for results were the most agonizing of your life - then, upon seeing them all negative, you fell to your knees and burst into tears.

“It’s okay,” Robin had cooed, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “You’re good it was a false alarm - you’re probably just late because of stress -”

“I know,” you sobbed. “I just -”

“What is it?”

You then had sat up, chest heaving as you sobbed.

“He’s really gone isn’t he?”

Robin held you in her arms that night as you cried yourself to sleep.

To your knowledge now, he had gone back to the U.S. - was he still in Chicago? Or, did he go back to New York? You realized it was better for you to not ask these questions, or to think of him at all. As the weeks had turned into months, you found yourself thinking of him a little less each day - but you still thought of him. You saw him in the passersby as you walked down the street, in every car window, in every businessman walking through the door to order a coffee. Sometimes, you’d hear a laugh, or get a brief whiff of cigarette smoke, and swear it was him. But it never was - it never would be again.

The days had dragged on, but luckily, you often found yourself too busy to dwell too much on thoughts of Steve. Between work and school, your plate was pretty full. With graduation in mere weeks, you had spent the entire term studying and working on your thesis. Steve’s remaining money, at least, allowed you to work far less hours than you had before - a small blessing, you supposed. 

The day was moving pretty quickly, the morning rush busy enough that two hours flew by without much notice. It was only during the afternoon lull that you found yourself able to look up from the espresso machine - only to lock eyes with a familiar face through the window.

Eddie smiled back at you, waving. You couldn’t help but grin, and beckoned him to come inside. He bounded through the glass doors, bursting into the coffee shop with the infectious, chaotic energy he always carries with him.

“Bella, how are you?” he asked, leaning over the counter with a big grin.

“I’m okay,” you said, shrugging.

He raised an eyebrow.

“Just okay?”

“Oh well - you know, a bit stressed with the end of term and all. But, that’ll all be over soon.”

“I’m almost done, too - just finishing up my exams, all of that nonsense.”

“Do you have someone for your thesis?”

You nodded. “Professor Hopper - he’s always had a soft spot for me,” you said, smiling fondly, thinking of the seemingly-gruff. 

“I have Clarke - I don’t actually know how much he knows about photography, he teaches chemistry for godsake, but apparently it’s a hobby or something, so he’ll sign off on whatever I do,” Eddie said, laughing.

“Oh! I forgot to tell you - I actually have my own studio space now.”

“What? Eddie, that’s amazing!”

He grinned. “Thanks - I mean, I’m still technically freelance, but I’m hoping once I’m fully graduated more work will start coming in. But for now, I don’t mind having some spare time to practice with the band.”

You did your best to stop yourself from rolling your eyes.

“Right - don’t forget me when you make it as a big rockstar, Eddie.”

He let out a hearty laugh at that, the infectious kind that had you joining in - you hadn’t laughed like that in quite some time.

“You know, you should come by later to check it out,” Eddie said. “I mean, if you want -”

You thought for a moment, then nodded.

“Sure, why not - I get off in about a half hour -”

“Perfect,” he cried, clapping his hands together. “I’ll just wait around then - and, uh, can I get an espresso? Since I’m already here and all.”

You rolled your eyes, fighting a smile.

“Yeah, sure thing Munson - I’ll take my sweet time with it, just for you.”

The end of your shift flew by, and soon enough you were pulling off your apron, linking your arm in Eddie’s as he led you out the door and through the city.

The studio, as it turned out, was only a few blocks away. The space was small, but nice - a big glass storefront allowed plenty of light in, even with the fading sun, indicative of the short days of winter. Some of Eddie’s work hung framed on the walls - city scenes, candids of people on the street, bands in action at his favorite club… and even a few of you, from the project you posed for a few years ago.

“Wow - this is amazing, Eddie!” you exclaimed, glancing around the studio with genuine pride for your friend. You knew this was always the goal for him, what he always wanted to do.

“Grazie mille,” he said, beaming. 

“Do you have anything lined up?”

He nodded.

“Some - nothing too interesting. A few weddings, graduation photoshoots, things like that. Oh, do you want to see the photo lab?”

You let him lead the way into the back room, passing through a dimly-lit room with machines and equipment that you were sure you had no idea how to use. Newly developed photos were hanging around on clothespins, or spread across the table in the middle.

“Back there is the darkroom,” Eddie said, gesturing to a small door on the other side of the room. “But yeah, this is where the magic happens.”

“You develop all your pictures this way?” you asked, examining a few laid across the table.

He shook his head. “Not exactly - only the stuff I shoot on film. A lot of what I do is digital, and I edit that on my computer but… I really do love shooting film. I only really do that for specific things. Oh, which reminds me!”

He turned his back to you, rummaging through a filing cabinet until he produced a large manila envelope, extending it to you. You furrowed your brow, confused. You turned it to examine it properly - the only thing written on it was your name and a date, in Eddie’s telltale scrawl.

“What -”

“It’s those pictures I owe you, from your birthday party - sorry, it took me a while to get around to developing them.”

Oh. 

“Oh,” you said quietly, gripping the envelope a bit tighter. “Uh, thanks - that was really nice of you, Eddie.”

You were still staring down at the parcel in your hands, your hands shaking a bit - you had completely forgotten that Eddie had been taking pictures all night. Most likely because you had been a bit distracted at the time. But now…

“I think they turned out pretty nice, if you ask me,” Eddie said. “But, you can be the judge of that yourself.”

You pressed your mouth into a tight line, nearly feigning a smile as you finally met his eyes again. He was looking back expectantly, and you realized he wanted you to look at them now. 

“Oh, yeah,” you mumbled. “I guess I’ll just -”

You opened it up, sliding out the stack of photos - they were slightly bigger than the ones you had seen from a digital camera, on a beautiful matte paper that you knew must have not been cheap. This, you realized, was Eddie’s belated birthday gift to you.

You thumbed through the pictures - the first few were just candids of your friends on the dancefloor, or deep in conversation around the bar. There were a few of you and Robin, arms thrown around each other and smiling ear-to-ear.

There were quite a few solo shots of you, raising a glass to the camera, mid-laugh, or dancing - somehow, he had made it look like you truly were the center of attention, as if to tell people this is who we were there for! 

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, laughing quietly at a few of the shots, including one of Robin flipping off the camera as she kisses Vickie. Then, your smile dropped, because there he was.

Steve, looking as handsome as you remembered, but somehow also a stranger, or like a figment of your imagination. Somehow, a small part of your subconscious had convinced you over the last few months that perhaps he wasn’t real, a true figment of your imagination that had been too good to be true. But there he was, large as life, his arm wrapped around you as you smiled into the camera. You were smiling in his arms, a girl completely unrecognizable in some ways. In another photo, he’s pressing a kiss to your cheek as you laugh - you remembered that one being taken, that’s for sure. You gently trailed your fingers across the picture, as if you were hoping to reach in and pull that happy girl out, just to shake a bit of sense into her. You didn’t even realize you were crying until a fat wet teardrop his the page, rolling down and off the edge.

“Whoa - are you alright?” Eddie asked, his voice tinged with worry.

You jumped, having nearly forgotten that he was there at all. How long had you been staring at the pictures of Steve? For a few minutes, or hours? There was no way to know.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you said, the thickness in your voice betraying you. You pressed the heels of your hands under your eyes, willing the gentle tears to stop, sniffling.

“What’s wrong?” Eddie asked softly.

You laughed dryly, more hot tears welling up as you did.

“Nothing! I - they’re beautiful, Eddie. Really - thank you. You - you’ve really got a talent.”

Your voice wobbled a bit at the end, and you sniffled.

“I’m sorry, I - it’s nothing to do with you,” you assured him. “I just - I’ve been having a hard time lately.”

Eddie cocked his head, confused. Then, his eyes flitted down to the picture in your hands.

“Oh - I’m sorry, I - is this about him?” Eddie asked quietly, gesturing to the photos. You just nodded, avoiding his gaze again as you stuffed them back into the envelope.

“I didn’t know you two had broken up, I’m sorry -”

“We didn’t break up!” you snapped, harsher than intended. “Fuck, I - sorry, that came out wrong. We didn’t break up, because we were never exactly together. It’s just complicated.”

Eddie furrowed his brow. “Yeah, okay - well, I’m sorry to hear about your not-breakup. I guess I’m just a little surprised.”

“Why’s that?” you asked.

He shrugged. “I spent a long time looking at all of those when I was developing them - you know how they say pictures tell a thousand words?”

You nodded.

“Well - I take pictures of a lot of couples - weddings, engagement shoots, all of that… and I’ve never seen two people more in love than you two.”

You felt your chest tighten - maybe you were being a lovesick idiot at your party, but Steve?

You shook your head. “No - Eddie, it… it wasn’t like that. I can promise you that.”

Steve made that perfectly clear.

Eddie shrugged again. “I’m just telling you what I observed, that’s all.”

“Well maybe you should mind your business,” you grumbled.

Fuck. You shouldn’t have said that.

Eddie’s face fell a bit, and he slowly took a step back, hands shoved in his pockets.

“My apologies,” he whispered. He was hurt, that much was obvious. You mentally kicked yourself.

“No Eddie - I’m sorry, I didn’t -” 

You sighed, frustrated.

“Things have been, like, really weird the last few months and… it doesn’t matter.”

“I could tell,” he said, voice quiet. “You’ve been.. Distant.”

You nodded, the awkwardness filling the space between you two. You had fucked this up too, somehow.

“So,” you said, clearing your throat. “Uh, it’s getting late, and dark… I probably should head home.”

“Yeah, okay - good idea, I have some stuff to work on anyway.”

You both nodded, avoiding eye contact as you both headed out back into the studio.

It wasn’t until you were at the door that you turned to face Eddie again.

“The place really is beautiful… I’m proud of you,” you said sincerely. He offered a small smile in return.

“Thanks.”

“I also - the pictures are beautiful. Thank you for these, I - they’re great.”

“I’m sorry if they -”

“Don’t apologize,” you said firmly. “They’re great - you’ve really got a gift, you know.”

You could tell Eddie was fighting a real smile, a small win in your book.

“C’mon, you know my ego’s just fine on its own.”

You laughed, and without thinking, pulled him into a tight hug.

“I’m sorry I lost it a little earlier,” you whispered.

“It’s alright,” he said, pulling away. “Heartbreak is funny like that.”

You decided not to bother protesting his assessment this time, too tired to start a fight again just to feel something.

“Right, okay.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to take out the photos with… him?” Eddie asked, gesturing down to the envelope.

“No, that’s alright - I’m a big girl, I can go through them. I’m definitely going to hang a few of these up though, so thanks again.”

“Take good care of yourself darling, alright? And come by any time - for any reason.”

It was an olive branch, an assurance that things were okay. You forced a smile, nodding.

“Thanks, Eddie - you’re a great friend, you know.”

You bid your farewells, and left the studio with a strange feeling settling within you. You pulled your coat a little tighter around you, stuffing the envelope underneath as you charged through the chilly evening air to the nearest bus stop.

You didn’t get home until nearly 6pm, the winter sky fully dark by then. By the time you walked a few blocks and up the stairs to your apartment, your face was stinging from the cold, the wind picking up more since that afternoon.

Robin was on the couch, a rerun of Friends playing on the TV.

“Hey! You’re back kind of late,” she remarked.

“Yeah - I ran into Eddie, funnily enough,” you replied, hoping you sounded nonchalant.

“Oh really? How is he? I miss him - we should really make a plan to hang out with him soon -”

“Yeah, for sure,” you said, kicking off your shoes and hanging your coat on the rack. “He’s good - I saw his new studio, it’s nice.”

“Oh, no way! That’s great - I need to go sometime -”

“Yeah, totally,” you said, absentminded. “Uh, I’ve got some stuff to do, but I’ll be out here later -”

“Maybe we can get takeout or something -”

“Yeah, perfect -” you tittered, closing your bedroom door behind you, eyes on the envelope in your hands.

You bit your lip, debating what to do. Part of you considered finding all of the pictures of Steve, and burning them. But, that felt a bit dramatic. You pulled out the stack again, sifting through until you found the shots of him. You couldn’t help but smile, looking at how happy the girl in the photos was - if only she knew how quickly things would fall apart that night. The photo of Steve kissing you cheek was your favorite - it was just full of pure, unbridled joy. The one after that was the one you stared at for quite some time, though. You were looking into the camera, grinning widely. Steve, however, wasn’t - no, he was looking at you. You stared at him for quite some time - and remembered Eddie’s words.

I’ve never seen two people more in love than you two.

You had thought it was crazy - but, in the picture, Steve was looking at you like you’d hung the stars. Like, if he didn’t have you, he’d be lost. He was looking at you with eyes full of love - you just hadn’t been looking.

You gasped, realizing what Eddie had seen that you couldn’t - maybe everything had meant more to Steve than he had let on. No, that was crazy - wasn’t it?

What happened next didn’t have much explanation - it was probably crazy. You found yourself Googling Steve’s company headquarters in Chicago - it couldn’t be this easy, could it? But it was.

A quick call through the directory brought you to his secretary, a bubbly woman who was more than happy to help. You pretended to be the secretary of a business partner you had remembered Steve mentioning, saying how you wanted to send a thank-you gift - it had been too easy to get his home address, really. And, a confirmation that he was back in Chicago.

The next morning, you sent out an envelope, sticking on international postage. You debated not putting your name on the return address, but ultimately decided to include it - he’d recognize the address anyway. When you dropped it at the post office, you walked away feeling a sense of relief - and, perhaps, just a bit unhinged. TIme would tell if anything came of it. But, at the very least, it felt like finally closing the chapter of your life that had been defined by Steve Harrington. And, that was a good thing… right?

********

The day before Christmas Eve, you received great news: confirmation that you had passed all of your exams, your thesis receiving glowing feedback from the professors in your department. Your degree, which studied Art History and Travel and Tourism Management, meant that you would actually be able to stay here - you hoped to work in tourism in some way right here in Rome, or perhaps work in one of the city’s many museums - being bilingual would help, and more importantly, it meant you never had to set foot back in the United States again, if you didn’t want.

Christmas brought its usual cheer and celebration, complete with mulled wine and a potluck dinner you and Robin held for some of the other foreign students you were friendly with, knowing they didn’t have families to go to for the holidays. Your graduation only brought extra festivities, including a speech prepared by Robin given as a toast at dinner, saying how proud she was of you (and, how jealous she was that you didn’t have to worry about schoolwork anymore). It was silly yet sincere enough to make you tear up and pull her into a big hug. Eddie and Jonathan even swung by for a bit, joining in on the celebration until the wee hours of the morning. Robin and Vickie were all over each otherYou ate and drank to your heart’s content before stumbling to bed, leaving cleanup in the kitchen for the morning.

The morning of Boxing Day, it turned out, was actually the afternoon, with you and Robin oversleeping. You, to your own relief, felt tired, but not too hungover - the same couldn’t be said for Robin and Vickie, who stumbled into the kitchen with grimaces on their faces and grumbles as a greeting.

You spent most of the day cleaning up from the last two days’ festivities, washing dishes and clearing away wrapping paper, wiping countertops and vacuuming just enough until your home felt semi-in order. 

You were still in your pajamas as it was getting dark again in the evening, a rarity these days. When Robin said she was heading out to dinner with Vickie and likely would be staying at her place that night, you bid her farewell, looking forward to some time alone to fully relax and unwind. 

It was several hours later, after scrounging together a dinner of Christmas leftovers and half-dozing on the couch while a movie played, that your doorbell rang. You sat up with a start, your heart jumping at the unexpected intrusion. You stumbled to the door, grumbling about who could possibly be here at this hour - maybe Robin decided to come back after all, and got locked out again? You were ready to playfully ridicule her when you opened the door. But when you saw who was standing on the other side, you froze.

Steve Harrington was there on your doorstep, barely illuminated in the dim light. His chest was heaving, his hair just a bit disheveled. His eyes widened when he saw you, and you imagined you did the same. Your heart plummeted to your stomach at the sight of him, so real and alive in front of you. Were you dreaming? Was this some sick prank?

Neither of you said anything for a moment, two mouths hanging open, searching for the words.

“It’s Christmas,” you blurted out, the first words you’ve said to him in over four months.

“It’s December 26th,” he replied, simply and casually.

“I - well, it’s still a holiday, kind of.”

“Yeah, I know - do you know how hard it is to catch a last-minute flight on Christmas?”

You just stood there in the doorway, unable to think of anything else to say - what the fuck?

“What are you doing here?” you asked, words biting. You were lashing out a bit, but you didn’t care - this moment right now reminded you of a similar one over the summer, when he came to your doorstep to explain how he wasn’t engaged. What was his excuse now?

“Why did you send me this?” he asked, holding up a familiar envelope - the photo.

Why did you? You weren’t certain of that answer yourself. So, you went with the first explanation that came to your head.

“It’s a good picture of you,” you said quietly.

He rolled his eyes.

“Do not - I don’t hear from you for months, then I get this in the mail - on Christmas Eve, mind you -”

“I’m sorry, were you supposed to hear from me?”

“I don’t know!” he cried. “Maybe?”

You scoffed. “You can’t be serious - you made it very clear that you never wanted to see me again.”

“I - what?”

“I wish you well? Take care? We ended things, Steve - what else was I meant to think?”

He sighed, his shoulders sagging.

“I don’t know. I guess part of me - it doesn’t matter. But, what am I supposed to make of this?” he asks, waving the envelope.

“I - Eddie gave me a bunch of pictures he took at my birthday party… I thought maybe you’d want that one.”

He took a tentative step closer towards you, gauging your reaction. You held your ground, not breaking eye contact.

“Is that the only reason?” he asked, voice low.

You felt your heartbeat quicken, your palms clammy - he really was just so handsome. Still, there was something so boyish about him, something that reminded you of why you fell for him in the first place. He had cut his hair a bit, his summer tan faded - and he looked tired. Then again, you probably did too - you suddenly became conscious of the fact that you were in your pajamas, still looking like you had just woken up - you wished you could disappear, never to be perceived again.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “The only reason.”

He was close enough now that you could see his Adam’s Apple bob as he gulped, his eyes glancing up and down your form as he took a deep breath.

“Tell me that, when you sent this, there wasn’t at least a small part of you that hoped I’d respond - that, when you sent this, you hoped I’d call, or show up here. If there wasn’t, I’ll walk away right now, and you’ll never have to see me again.”

There it was - everything laid out on the table. So much was still unsaid - but, it was obvious that he also had been hurting the last few months, that he didn’t want this to end, maybe even nearly as much as you did. 

“You really flew all the way here because I sent you a photo?” you whispered.

He nodded. “Of course I did.”

“You realize how crazy that is, right?”

He chuckled dryly.

“Well, they do say it makes you do crazy things.”

“...it?” you asked, voice wavering.

He nodded.

Oh.

“Come inside,” you murmured. “It’s pretty cold out there.”

As soon as the door was shut behind him, he began spiraling into a new explanation.

“I hope you know that I didn’t come here just to - you’re right, it is kind of crazy, but I didn’t know what else to do, after everything that happened -”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” you said, cutting him off. “I don’t want to talk at all.”

You both stood there for a moment, eyes locked on eachother. Then, as if reading each other’s minds, you both moved at once - you crashed your lips into his, fast and desperate. He sighed against your lips, pulling you close as his tongue slipped into your mouth. 

You felt like crying - you had missed him so much, more than you had realized - his voice, his warmth, his scent - it brought everything flooding back, the feelings you had buried in an attempt at self-preservation. But now, as you kissed him, you felt the tears well up, stinging your eyes as they rolled down your face, hot and fast.

“Whoa - baby, it’s okay - what’s wrong -”

Baby. 

“Nothing,” you cried, wiping the tears away. “I just - I really fucking missed you.”

You felt stupid to admit it, but then again, didn’t he come close to confessing that himself just a few moments ago?

“I know, I know, baby - you have no fuckin’ idea -”

Another kiss, passionate and apologetic.

“I didn’t mean any of what I said that night,” you gasped, pulling him closer. “I was just so scared -”

“I know, me too, baby - m’sorry -”

Baby. Babybabybaby.

He was holding your face between his hands now, backing you up until you were pressed against the wall, his lips finding yours again. He titled his head down to nuzzle at your throat, pressing his lips to the sensitive skin there. You tipped your head back, giving him full access to do as he pleased. He kissed and nipped at your neck, until you were moaning and crying out his name, pulling at his coat until it fell off of his shoulders. You twisted your hands in his button-down, his hands squeezing tighter on your waist in response.

“Fuck, Steve,” you breathed. “I’m sorry -”

“Stop with that,” he said, firmly taking your face in his hands again, catching your lips in another gentle kiss. “You’re right, I just realy don’t want to talk anymore -”

Then he was kissing you again, swallowing your noises as you whined his name, fingers gripping his hair.

“Bedroom, now,” you told him. “Please -”

“Yeah, okay.”

He couldn’t keep his hands off of you, both of you stumbling down the small hallway and into your bedroom, Steve slamming the door closed behind him with his foot.

“No Robin?” he asked, lips finding your neck again.

“No - ah! She’s at Vickie’s tonight -”

“Thank Christ,” he growled. “I don’t know how quiet I’m capable of being right now.”

He was apparently as desperate as you were, lips finding yours hungrily as he pulled your oversized t-shirt over your head, eyes practically rolling to the back of his head when he saw your breasts.

“No bra?” he asked.

“I was lounging around, until you showed up -”

“Thank god,” he practically snarled, his hands finding the small of your back to pull you close.

You reached between yourselves, unbuttoning his shirt, fingers slipping as they shook with anticipation. He reached down to help you, until he eventually shrugged the shirt off. You wrapped your arms around him, pressing your bare chest to his, nearly crying again from the contact.

“I really missed you,” he whispered, a man ruined. “I never thought I’d be able to have you like this again -”

“None of that,” you murmured, pressing a finger to his lips. “It’s alright.”

You just stared at him, running your hands down his chest as you took a deep breath.

“I need to tell you something.”

“What is it?” he asked, face flickering with concern. “Oh god, are - are you seeing someone else? I didn’t even ask -”

“No! No, nothing like that,” you assured, biting your lip. “I just - do you remember the night of my birthday on our trip, on the rooftop?”

He nodded. “That was a really nice night.”

“I haven’t been totally honest with you,” you admitted, heart racing as you were ready to lay out the thing you had been terrified to admit aloud.

“About what?” he asked softly, cupping your cheek gently with his palm.

“Remember when I said something in Italian, and you asked what it meant? And I just said it meant I loved the gift, the star thing?”

He nodded. You took a deep, shuddering breath.

“That wasn’t exactly true. I - I said that I was in love with you,” you managed, voice quivering at the end. “That’s why I was so scared - I didn’t realize until I said it… I had broken our rule, our number one rule -”

“Hey, hey -” he cooed, shaking his head. “Did you mean it?”

You hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah - I still do.”

The few seconds that passed after that had your stomach doing somersaults - what if he still didn’t feel that way, and everything he had said in the doorway was bullshit? You thought you were going to be sick -

But his face softened, his eyes glistening - was he going to cry?

“Fuck the rules. I stopped following those a long time ago,” he said.

Your heart fluttered, your face heating.

“Are you saying -”

“How did you say it in Italian again?” he asked. “I’m sorry, I’ve been slacking on my lessons without you around.”

You laughed. “Oh, um, it’s sono innamorato di te. It translates directly as I’m in love with you, or I’m falling for you.”

He nodded. “Well then - sono innamorato di te.”

You felt like your chest was about to explode, and before you knew it, you were crying again. He was too, you realized, his cheeks glistening with tears as he choked a sob with laughter.

“We could’ve saved ourselves a lot of trouble if we both just said that in the first place,” he said, reaching to wipe away some of your tears.

“How long?” you asked.

“Since the night of the gala I brought you to. So… longer. I guess I win.”

You sobbed again, Steve swallowing the sound with another kiss. It’s wet and salty with tears, a mess of apologies and confessions.

“Steve - I -”

“I know, baby,” he whispered, kissing your salty cheeks. “It’s alright - I’m here now -”

The conversation truly stopped after that - you couldn’t keep your hands off of one another, shedding clothes until you were nude and devouring each other with desperation unlike anything you had ever felt before.

Steve was pressing his lips between your breasts when you asked, voice breathy and filled with need.

“Steve - I need you, please -”

“Mm - yeah, okay -”

Before he could move, you were reaching down to grasp his cock in your hand. He gasped, pupils blown as his head thumped back against the wall. The noise that came out of him was unholy, wrecked and ruined as you brushed your thumb along his leaking tip.

“Christ, baby -”

“Can I suck you off, please?” you asked, desperate to make him come undone. 

“Honey - you can’t - I just, I wanna fuck you so bad… I won’t last if I let you get your mouth on me, baby.”

You pouted, even as your heart raced with the thrill of knowing you’d have him inside you again.

“Next time,” he said, “I swear.”

A promise of a next time, of a thousand more times - you started kissing him again, lips bruising his - losing yourself in any drink or drug would never compared to losing yourself in Steve Harrington, you decided.

“Get on the bed,” he muttered, gently pushing you back. You did as he asked, falling back onto the mattress gently as he joined you, face hovering inches from yours.

His hair was a mess, pupils blown and lips glossy. He just shook his head, as if in disbelief.

“What?” you asked.

“You’re just so beautiful,” he breathed. 

You felt your face heat, and you buried your face in your hands.

“Shut up.”

“About you? Not likely.”

Before you could come up with a clever remark, he was kissing your neck again, his lips traveling down slowly between the valley of your breasts, taking his time - he was going to leave bruises, you already knew.

But he didn’t stop, traveling down, down, down - 

“What are you -”

“I never said I didn’t want to taste you first,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. “I miss having my mouth on you so fuckin’ much -”

“Fuck,” you gasped. “You’re unreal -”

“Says you,” he retorted. Whatever you planned to say next died on your lips, anything resembling a coherent thought dissolving as his lips found your cunt.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, back arching as his tongue swirled around your clit.

“Just as fuckin’ sweet as I remembered,” he whispered, his breath against your pussy making your chest heave.

He licked a stripe along your slit, making your back arch off the bed, your eyes fluttering closed.

“Be loud for me, baby,” he murmured, lips finding your clit again. You did as he asked, moaning and crying out his name as he devoured your pussy, eliciting desperate sounds from you as your fingers wound themselves in his hair. He groaned as you pulled on his locks, encouraging you to continue doing so as he opted to slide a finger inside you.

“Fuck - Steve! Ohmygod, fuck -”

You felt him smile as he lapped and licked at your folds, adding a second finger and beginning to pump them in earnest, finding that spot inside of you too easily. 

You were crying out, bucking your hips against Steve’s lips, like putty in his hands. For about ten minutes you were completely his, mind numb with pleasure as he took you apart with his mouth. You let him, feeling the blunt fingernails of his free hand digging into your thigh, pulling you as close as possible.

“Steve - I’m gonna - I’m so close, y’feel too good -”

Encouraged, he picked up the pace a bit, sending you completely over the edge. When you came, you saw stars, grinding down on Steve’s mouth and fingers. You were screaming, and he helped you through it, nuzzling against your core as you pulsed around his fingers. Your hand left his hair and found his temple, gently coaxing him closer as you rode out your orgasm.

You were still breathing heavily as he kissed his way slowly back up your body, worshiping every inch of skin he could find. YOu didn’t let your eyes open again until he was face-to-face with you, chin glistening with your release as he wore a smug grin.

“Such a good girl for me,” he murmured. “Tasted so good… you came so hard for me -”

“Mm -” you hummed, pulling him down for a kiss. You tasted yourself on him, the sensation completely euphoric.

“Do you need some time?” he asked gently.

You ran a finger over your clit, still sensitive and puffy, and shook your head.

“No, I’m okay - I actually really need you to fuck me.”

“Thank god,” he said, exasperated. “I don’t think I can go another second without fucking you -”

“I know -”

“I would dream about you, you know - all the time. I’d wake up in the middle of the night with a hard-on, of a mess in my boxers like a fuckin’ teenager -”

“I know what you mean,” you admitted, recalling a few times you had thought of him as you touched yourself since he’d left. 

“Please tell me you’re still on the fuckin’ pill -”

“Yeah, I am - God, Steve -”

“I know, I know - ready baby?”

You nodded, locking your eyes with his as he positioned himself above you, pushing inside of you ever so slowly. You could tell he was holding back, doing everything he could to not enter you in one rough movement. You winced at the stretch, nearly forgetting just how big he was. He kissed apologies across your face, gasping as he felt your warm walls envelope him.

“Fuck -” he groaned, burying his face in your neck. “I can’t believe I went so long without this - you feel so fuckin’ perfect, baby - such a tight, perfect pussy -”

“You feel so good,” you breathed, digging your fingernails into his shoulderblades. “Steve - I’m so full, please fuck me -”

He did as you asked, rolling his hips against yours, eliciting a groan from both of you. He was still holding back you could tell - but you didn’t have time for that, not after months of missing him, of missing this -

“Let go, baby,” you whispered. “Please -”

“What did you just call me?” he asked.

“I - baby,” you repeated. You realized you never had before - was that wrong?

“Say it again,” he breathed.

“Baby,” you breathed, gasping as he thrust into you a little harder. 

“Baby, please - fuck me, let go,” you cried.

It became fast and hard quickly, the desperation you shared impossible to mask. The slapping of his hips against yours was positively dirty, Steve’s arms caging you underneath him as he pounded into you. Your hand snaked down between you, your own finger finding your clit.

“That’s it, baby,” he groaned, continuing his relentless pace. “Touch yourself for me, just like that - M’not gonan last long, I’m sorry, you just feel too good -”

“It’s okay,” you assured, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I want you to lose it.”

He groaned, the room filling with the sound of slapping skin and moans, your names on each other’s lips.

Nothing else mattered, not when Steve was making you feel like this, not when he had flown across an ocean on a whim, a desperate hope to just see you again, even if only for a moment. You suddenly became so overwhelmed with love for this man, this person who had turned your world upside down - it was indescribable, impossible to even express. So you just held him tight, burying your face into his shoulder.

“M’close - I need you to come with me, baby - can you do that? I know you can, you’re always so good for me -”

You nodded, unable to formulate words anymore.

“I fuckin’ love you,” he cried, hips stuttering, his thrusts growing sloppier. “So much, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you - I love you, baby -”

His words sent you over the edge, white-hot pleasure surging through your body as you screamed his name. The feeling of you clamping around him sending him into his own orgasm. He spilled inside of you, your name on his lips like a prayer. He practically collapsed on top of you, the feeling of his heartbeat against yours feeling like home, like it was always meant to be this way.

Your breaths were labored, sweet kisses peppered across skin. Neither of you spoke for quite some time. After he rolled off of you, he immediately wrapped his arms around you, pulling you as close as physically possible.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, slow and gentle. It was only when you pulled back, brushing some of his sweaty hair away from his face, that you broke the silence.

“I love you, too,” you murmured. You brushed your fingers along his face, and he caught your wrist, pressing kisses to your palm and knuckles, as if determined to worship you every chance he got.

“I want more than an arrangement,” he whispered. “I don’t want rules, or a deal, or -”

“Yeah, that was obvious,” you replied, chuckling. “And, me too.”

“And, you were right - you have school, and I never wanted you to think I just wanted you like a trophy or something - you have your own life, aspirations, and i know that - I just like spoiling you, but I never wanted you to give up who you are,” he said, face soft. “I need you to know that.”

“I do,” you murmured.

You really did. 

“Besides, I graduated.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What? When?”

“Officially? A few days ago.”

He smiled, soft and sincere - part of you was worried he might cry again.

“Congratulations - I’ll have to take you out to celebrate.”

“Mm - sounds good to me. How long - when are you here until?”

There was still life to reckon with, after all - living on two different continents, jobs, obligations - the kind of thing that could ruin this. But, he just shook his head.

“I bought an open-ended ticket. So, until whenever you want.”

“I - what? What about work?”

He shrugged. “Turns out, when you run the place, you can get away with that stuff.”

Your jaw dropped.

“What? Are you serious?”

He nodded. “Brenner’s out. I’m in - youngest CEO in the company’s history.” 

You laughed, pressing your palm to your forehead as you stared at the ceiling in disbelief.

“Steve - that’s amazing. But how -”

“Shhh - we’ll figure everything out later. But, let’s at least ring in the new year together, yeah?”

You nodded cautiously - he really was here, now, and wanted to make it work.

“Okay,” you said. “Sounds good.”

“Hey - you know what’s really pissing me off, though?”

“What?” you asked, wary as a pit of dread formed in your gut.

“I have to thank Eddie fucking Munson for fixing this.”

You laughed, a real, hearty laugh, and in that moment, you realized things were going to be okay.

******

That night, you slept better than you had in months, safe and warm in Steve’s arms. That was, until you woke to Robin’s scream the next morning, both of you shooting up in bed with a start.

“WHAT IS HE DOING IN YOUR BED?” she cried, shielding her eyes. “God - I wish I could bleach my eyes - motherfucker -”

Then, the door was slamming shut, Robin bemoaning her luck as she bolted down the hall to her own room.

You felt your face heat with embarrassment, sinking under the covers.

“Well - I guess I owe her an explanation -”

“Later,” Steve saidly, shaking his head incredulously. “For Christmas, I’m getting you a fucking industrial lock for that door!”

Then you were laughing, blissful and unable to control yourself, Steve joining you. He kissed the giggles away, pulling your body to his, and not much talking happened after that.

It didn’t matter what real life held after this - because Steve was here, and he was yours. Wherever you ended up, you realized, if you were with Steve, you would be home.

He was here to stay.

author's note: Hi y'all - thanks for your patience! This story isn't quite done - there will be an epilogue posted tomorrow. But, that's essentially the conclusion of don't call me 'baby' - I told you it would be a happy ending! Shoutout to @is-writing for some help with this. And of course as always, Em, without whom this fic wouldn't have happened. Comments, reblogs, and messages are always welcome - keep an eye out for the epilogue!

[lieutenantfloyd]

Ensemble Cast

pairing: Platonic! Task Force 141 (+ Alejandro & Rodolfo) x GN! Reader

words: 660

Summary: Hours into a stakeout, your boredom leads you to ask the everyone the classic hypothetical question, “If they were to make a movie about us, what actor would you want to play you?”

warnings: Lots of fluff and dialogue, found family trope, mentions of injuries, and an implication of angst.

a/n: MW2 is the ultimate found family story, change my mind.

Running your fingers along the edge of the map, your watch caught your eye. 5:14am, the bold digital numerals taunted. you pushed back from the table and made your way across the small room. You quickly scanned for an open spot to sit before finding one along the wall. Settling in with the group, you fought the urge to sigh. Stakeouts, while typically easy work, were never something you particularly enjoyed. A welcome break from the firefight you had been active in the past few weeks, yes, but nonetheless almost entirely boring.

You had been with them for what felt like forever and had long considered the group more like a band of brothers than a task force. Yet even the closest groups of people are bound to experience a lapse in conversation when stuck in a room together for hours on end. Unsurprisingly, a hush had fallen over most of the group more than a few hours ago. Like Ghost, you were more than comfortable with a bit of silence. But as the ninth hour of the stakeout came to a close, you couldn’t help but ignore your growing itch for conversation.

“If they were to make a movie about us, what actor would you want to play you?”

The question escaped you almost absentmindedly. The result of your brain slipping into semi-auto pilot. The words simultaneously cut Soap’s quiet one-sided ramblings short and introduced a bit of spirit and levity to everyone. You felt the room fall into a moment of quiet consideration, as the men began using the same war strategist intensity that was hard wired into their brains to figure out what Hollywood star they felt was most like themselves. Hypotheticals were a more than welcome break from going over the intel for the umpteenth time, or worse, being forced to listen to the vocalization of whatever popped into Soap’s mind.

With a groan, Captain price shifted his position in the stiff plastic chair he occupied. Trading his relaxed posture for sitting at attention in anticipation of everyone’s answer. A few moments passed before he spoke up. “Easy. Hugh Grant.” He started before taking a dramatic drag from his cigar. “A classic British gentleman after my own heart.”. Even through the darkness, you could see the playful glint in his eye. Price’s answer earned a range of amusement from the group and a full-bodied laugh from soap. “I’d want either James Mcavoy or… that guy from Game of Thrones.” Soap grinned. “Jon Snow!” Gaz snorted. “For me..” He started ”I know he’s not an actor, but I’ve been mistaken for Lewis Hamilton once or twice before, so probably him. What about you, Alejandro?” “I’d play myself. Why hire an actor when you can have the real thing?” Alejandro chimed in. “¿Y usted?” Alejandro said, elbowing Rodolfo. “No estoy seguro… ¿Maybe Mario Lopez?” “¡Vaya! Looks like Rudy’s feeling confident!” Alejandro chuckled, earning a smile and a slightly bashful look from Rudy. “What about you, LT?” Simon simply shrugged. Clearly not impressed by the current conversation. “Well. we could always dress up one of those twelve foot skeleton decorations and have you do the voiceover.” Soap snickered.

A moment passed before everyone, Simon included, burst into laughter.

Seeing everyone fall apart to such a dumb joke left you giggling right along with them, almost unable to contain yourself.

For years you found it strange how much joy you felt in moments like this—sitting in a dark and musty shack, laughing and cracking jokes alongside your rag tag group of soldiers. Yet you couldn't ignore how these moments brought up a near forgotten sensation; a syrupy sweetness in your chest. A feeling synonymous with those of love and what it meant to finally belong somewhere. The feeling of finally finding a family. Because what is a family, if not a cast of characters - often beaten, more than a little broken, and almost always bloody - who still choose to form glimmers of light in a world of dark?

[tiredfox64]

Can I ask request a Kuai Liang x reader on the reader also being a pyromancer but always kept it a secret and Kaui Liang finds out about the reader's ability and tries to help teach only for the reader to avoid him out of fear of either being made fun of or accidentally hurting him until Kuai Liang shows his ability to prove the reader otherwise?

A Lighter to a Bonfire

Yip notes: Goodness, I need to show him more love. I was out here working to get dragon crystals to buy him more clothes and I barely make fics for him.

Pairing: Kuai Liang (MK1) x Gn reader

Warnings‼️: FUEGO FUEGO FIRE FIRE

At the young age of five, you discovered something that you thought was a curse. It all started from an incident where your emotions were out of control, resulting in you bursting into a ball of flames. Your parents were horrified. They didn’t know what happened and neither did you. They thought this was an instance of human combustion but you were fine. No burn or scar left behind. That’s not right.

Through research, you found out that there was a long history of pyromancers in your family. It looks like it went on for years before diminishing by the 1900s. Fewer children were being taught how to control their abilities until the practice died out. That was until you had your incident. Looks like it jumped some generations.

Unfortunately, nobody in your family knew how to help. They tried their best to get rid of it but it was no use. Blessings, cleansings, healing, and even chicken blood could not rid you of your destiny. All you could do was adapt. For you, adapting meant staying away from people.

You rarely had friends out of fear of hurting them. You distanced yourself from your family which saddened them. You had to focus on keeping yourself calm to prevent any incidents. You would hate to burn anything, especially if it was something of yours. Some days you would wonder why it had to be you. You cried from the despair of being alone. It was a sacrifice you had to make to keep everyone safe. No one could have helped you.

Or so you thought.

On a random day, you were visited by a man with glowing eyes who said he was the protector of Earthrealm and the god of fire. His name was Liu Kang and for once you felt hope. You thought that god himself would help get rid of this stupid curse. That wasn’t what he came for. Instead, he said he wanted to train you and help you control your pyromancy abilities, just like he helped your ancestors. He informed you that he would bring you to someone who could be of great assistance.  

Though you couldn’t get rid of this ability at least you could learn to control it. You could live a better life now. You can have friends and your family near you without worrying about them getting hurt. You were on board with this. Liu Kang was pleased to see your enthusiasm and said he would bring you to the Shirai Ryu to gain assistance.

This was truly a new beginning for you.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

There was a spark the moment you met Kuai Liang. Liu Kang never mentioned that he was so handsome. And he was the grandmaster? You’re gonna be assisted by the grandmaster? This was exciting.

Kuai Liang was intrigued by you. All Liu Kang told him was that you were in need of assistance. You needed training and guidance on how to keep your emotions steady. It was important that you didn’t condense your emotions but instead balance them. Kuai Liang initially thought you were some rogue person who had no other purpose in life because Liu Kang didn’t say anything. He didn’t tell him that you were a pyromancer and you were never told that Kuai Liang was one as well. A pretty good one actually.

Maybe it was god playing a practical joke on you. Maybe it was god wanting to let time tell what would happen between you and Kuai Liang. There is really no real reason why Liu Kang didn’t tell you two that you’re both pyromancers. He just wants to play matchmaker.

Kuai Liang found it best to meditate as it’s a great way to stabilize yourself. It quiets the mind and calms your breathing. Plus, it’s an excuse for Kuai Liang to step away from the stress of building a new clan. If he has to deal with another incompetent initiate or losing track of Bi-Han he’s gonna combust and never extinguish.

Your time with Kuai Liang was peaceful. It wasn’t easy in the beginning. You were afraid of being too hopeful and wasting your breath on something that was doomed to fail. You feared that the moment you thought you had control over yourself you would accidentally burn everything around you. Your mind ran wild with these negative thoughts. They’d make your skin all clammy and your chest would burn with the flames that flowed through your veins. Then Kuai Liang would tell you to breathe. Hold it for five seconds then let it out just as slowly. There, don’t you feel better?

Kuai Liang had a lot of patience when it came to you which was almost shocking. He always seemed to be in a rush when it came to everything else. He needed the initiates to better themselves fast. He was in a rush to catch Bi-Han and prevent him from causing any harm to the realms. With you, he acted like he had all the time in the world. You weren’t sure if it was because Liu Kang told him he had to be cautious or if Kuai Liang was doing it out of kindness.

The real answer is that Kuai Liang feels like there is something special about you. He didn’t know what it was but he had a gut feeling you and him weren’t all that different.

You had a feeling too but not the same one he did. He was suspicious, you were straight-up feeling. Who could blame you? You spent most of your life cooped up in an effort to prevent yourself from hurting others. You meet a handsome man who shows you respect and doesn’t fear you in the slightest. Even some of your family feared you for your explosive tendencies. But him, oh no, he looked at you like you were a person and not a ticking bomb. It’s reasonable that you would find comfort in him. Maybe a little bit of affection too.

That’s what makes you scared. You assumed that Kuai Liang doesn’t know you’re a pyromancer since he never brought it up or taught you how to control it. You were afraid to burn the bond you were starting to create with him.

At this point, you two weren’t just meditating together. You would take walks together which were soothing. You two would have conversations while having tea, sometimes inviting Tomas to join. You’d laugh, smile, sulk, and cry, all in front of Kuai Liang. He made you feel wonderful and to hurt him by accident would kill you. You wouldn’t hurt him on purpose of course but the flames that run through you wouldn’t hesitate to burn his skin.

So you try to keep yourself composed, even fearing good emotions would make you flare up. Good or bad it doesn’t matter; any strong emotions could set you ablaze. You know that because you accidentally used your powers while you two meditated.

You just wanted to take a quick peek at Kuai Liang, one wouldn’t hurt. You opened one eye and looked over at Kuai Liang who was kneeling next to you. His face looked peaceful with the way his eyes were closed. You looked down at his chest and saw how it slightly moved with each breath he took in and let out. Don’t forget to take a look at those muscles. You couldn’t help but smile softly at the gorgeous man beside you and feel grateful for what he’s done. Then you felt it. You felt that burning, tingly feeling that spreads across your skin when your powers start acting up. You looked down to see the palms of your hands were on fire like two little bonfires. You gasped without thinking and closed your hands tightly. The flame extinguished for now. It would come back if that feeling in your chest kept swirled. You closed your eyes, not noticing Kuai Liang looking at you, and went back to meditating. You focused on getting rid of that warm feeling in your chest.

He noticed, of course. He saw the black smoke that arose from your hands. The dark color of that smoke could only come from fire. It clicked in his head and that gut feeling made sense. You were a pyromancer, just like him. He didn’t know what to feel. He felt kind of hurt that you hid this from him. It would be unfair to hold this fact against you since Liu Kang didn’t disclose it to him. Then he started to wonder if that was the true reason you needed assistance. It would explain why Liu Kang brought you here instead of the Wu Shi to help with your emotions.

He gets it now but he won’t say anything yet. If it is true, he doesn’t want to disturb your peace. It’s best to finish the meditation session and then confront you.

After you both were done, Kuai Liang was about to ask you something you got up and walked swiftly out of the room. You didn’t give him time to get back on his feet. You held your head low as you slipped into your temporary room. Just like that, it was like how you used to live. Cooped up and too afraid to be near people.

Kuai Liang got up and started walking down the halls. He guessed you would run back into your room. He was there in under a minute and was knocking at your door.

“…yes?” You called back.

“You ran out of the room pretty quickly. Is something wrong?” He asked.

You could tell he knew something was wrong by the tone of his voice. You debated with yourself if telling him the truth would do any good. It’s not that easy to explain you can produce fire.

“I’m just tired. I’ll be fine in a few hours. Don’t worry about me.” You were trying your best to get him to leave you be.

He sighed at your dismissive attitude but what could he expect? You were hiding this for a long time, you clearly don’t want anyone to know. It would be unwise to leave this issue untouched that’s why he needs to discuss this with you. From the looks of it, he could easily mistake you for someone who just discovered their abilities. He has no clue that you have been dealing with this all your life.

“Okay. Be sure to come out for dinner. I want to talk to you once dinner is finished.” And with that, he finally left.

You were left a nervous wreck in your room. You thought all your progress was reversed and you were back to square one. You knew it, you knew this would happen. The moment you got close to someone you started burning up. You flopped face-first onto your bed and groaned out loud. Things are just never easy for you.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Great, now Kuai Liang was struggling to catch you.

After he said he wanted to speak with you his mind immediately started working on a plan for you. He wanted you to figure out how to be a pyromancer and he would train you like he was trained. After that, you definitely won’t feel the need to hide your powers.

But you never came. After dinner, you went right back into your room. He came knocking at your door and you ignored him by pretending to be asleep. No matter, he’ll just catch you tomorrow.

…yeah no.

Kuai Liang wasn’t going to force you out of the room. He wants to keep you calm since you were unable to control your abilities. It was frustrating to him that he had no other way to get you out. He tried talking to you through the door but you would either stay quiet or give him short answers.

“I only want to help you.” He yelled through the door.

“I’m fine.”

“I know you need help with your pyroman-“

“I have no idea what you are talking about!”

You’d deny having any pyromancy abilities. You didn’t want him to help you out of fear that he would get hurt. He’d sigh before leaving you alone.

He hates to do this to you but he might have to catch you off guard. You can’t stay cooped up in your room all day. You eventually have to eat. He knows you’ve been sneaking out just to nibble on some snack when you think no one is looking. He knows you’re stuffing your cheeks with tangerines, don’t lie. Nobody eats ten tangerines in one sitting except you.

All he can do is wait for now.

The sun had set and the moon began to rise. All was quiet with the occasional cricket chirping. Right on schedule you were creeping out of your room quietly. You did manage to control your fire a little. You were using your finger as a candle to guide your way around. You were in the kitchen area in under a minute. You grabbed those tangerines like you’ve been starving for days. The lights suddenly flicked on. In your most vulnerable state, you were caught with a bunch of tangerines in your arms and your finger lit. Who was the person who caught you in the act? Why it was the Shirai Ryu’s grandmaster, Kuai Liang.

You curled your finger up and extinguished it by closing your hands. You slowly put the tangerines back like that was the problem here.

“I knew you had pyromancy abilities. Why did you hide it?” He asked.

“I don’t know. I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Your finger was on fire.” He replied bluntly.

“Just leave this alone please.” You begged.

“I will not. You have to let me help you. I can teach you to control it. Controlling it involves your emotions being stable, yes, but it also involves physical control. You have to control where it goes.”

“No!” You blurted out.

You surprised Kuai Liang. This was the first time you ever raised your voice. It was also nighttime and the deafening silence was interrupted by your plead. You immediately felt bad and decided to tell him the truth. It’s the least you could do.

“I don’t want you to help me because…I don’t want to hurt you. I’m scared of hurting others. That’s why I’ve hidden it all my life. I really like you and I don’t want to end up hurting you because I struggle to keep emotions under control.”

At that moment the skin on your arms began to tingle and your hands started to produce embers. You looked at Kuai Liang who was calm. Even as your hands started to catch fire he didn’t bat an eye. Instead, he walked closer even though you pleaded with him to stay away from you. You backed away from him until your back hit the kitchen counter. You thought you would cry because you were so frustrated with yourself. You were upset with how your life had turned out and now the one good thing you had was about to be ruined. That’s what you thought before Kuai Liang took hold of your wrist and placed his other hand next to yours. You watched as his hand caught fire. It was hotter and brighter than the fire you produced. Little embers from both your hands danced in the air before dying out. You stared in awe at the sight before you.

Kuai Liang was a pyromancer, duh.

“Oh…” The realization was setting in.

“As I said before, I can help you.”

He folded his hand over yours, extinguishing both your flames. He held your hand in his, squeezing it to make sure you got the point that this was real.

“I had absolutely no idea.”

“Now you know. I hope this will help prevent you from running away from me next time.”

Your eyes shifted down in shame. This could have been figured out sooner if you weren’t so afraid. Kuai Liang doesn’t blame you luckily. You thought you were alone in this world. You clearly aren’t.

“I’m sorry.” You apologized.

“I accept your apology. Now that you know I can properly teach you how to control yourself. Soon, you will be a greater pyromancer than me.”

“I don’t think so. I think I’m pretty late with this.” You joked.

“It is never too late. Get some rest. In the morning I will start training you.” Kuai Liang slowly let go of your hand, also hesitant to do so.

It felt like a weight was lifted from your shoulders. You had nothing to fear in the end. You were just being silly at this point. But things will be different now. You have a real chance to get a hold of your life and be better than ever. Maybe you will be just as great as Kuai Liang.

Oh all of this is so exciting you just might—

Fwoosh

Oops, you caught fire again.

Kuai Liang ran back to you and took hold of your hand. You calmed down and the fire that surrounded your body died down. You actually startled Kuai Liang with that.

“Perhaps you should stay in my room for tonight. I need to keep an eye on you.”

Yap notes: Kuai Liang and Guatemala have failed me on the same day. What kind of cruel joke is this. I promise I'm not mad what are you talking about? Also sorry if the first part seems to be different than the second. I started it, wasn’t feeling, and came back to it way later. Yes I did started craving tangerines hella bad how could I not—🍊🦊HEY! HEY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING BACK IN MY DEN?! PAY YOUR RENT! Adiós!

[senawashere]

Hi could I request something fluffy for Bradley? Maybe he comes home after a bit too many beers at the Hard Deck and is super needy just needs a bit of affection🤭 please take your time, and no rush! You can go wherever you want with this:)

We're on this together...(Chapter VII)

Summary: Cat is out of the bag.

A/n: It took a lot,sorry.. And thank you @promisingyounglady for thus request,i changed it a bit,hope you will like it!!!

Warnings: Infertility,mentions of miscarrige,mentions of hospital,mentions of getting pregnant,mentiones of ivf.Use of alcohol,arguing,use of bad languange. Not so angsty anymore🥹

September 11 2022

If there was one thing Bradley wanted, it was to spend the rest of his life with you.

If there was one thing Bradley definitely wanted, it was to have a family with you.

You wished he was more creative, more romantic, but when your period was late and you started feeling queasy about food, you took a pregnancy test and burst into tears when you saw the result.

You had been trying for this for years and you were exhausted.

Mental breakdowns, crying sessions, crises, fights, negative tests, negative doctor visits and more, it hurt a lot for years.

But one day everything changed.

That test that you were used to seeing as negative came back positive that day.

You were pregnant.

You wished you could create something to share the news with Bradley, but he came running to your screams, his eyebrows pinched together in distress and he ran into the bathroom with a frantic "Baby?!"

You were jumping, holding the test with tears streaming down your face, "We're going to be parents! Bradley, we're going to be parents!"

"What?!" Bradley screamed, his vision instantly blurring as he gasped for air and gasped for air, and he stood up to ground himself from the overwhelming emotions and pulled you to his chest, giving you a bone-crushing hug.

Another thing you'll remember forever.

°•°•°•

Of course you were smart enough to wait nine months, but you didn't expect Bradley to be so protective of you the moment he found out you were pregnant.

"Why are you using the kettle, baby? There's hot water in there."

"Oh no, honey, you're not taking Duke to the park by yourself."

"Don't sleep too close to the side, baby, come here, into my arms."

"What are you doing?! Hell no, you're not even going near the vacuum cleaner."

You could barely breathe as Bradley watched you, his body ready to interfere with you.

God forbid, because right now your baby is lying in your womb sipping on damn cocktails in your bladder.

“What happened? What happened?” Bradley woke up frantically, his sleepy eyes wide and his hair a mess as he leaned towards you.

“Baby, I’m just gonna pee.” you chuckled quietly.

He rubbed his eyes as he got out of bed, muttering, “Okay, let’s go.”

You sat down on the bed, looking at him in shock as he yawned and waited for you.

“Bradley, I’m seriously just gonna pee,” you said, before pointing to the bathroom, “Right there.”

Your husband’s arrogance made him look at you in confusion, “Yeah, I know. Come on then, let’s go and pee.”

You stood up, “I’m not gonna pee while you’re staring at me like a hawk.”

“Okay, I won’t look then.”

“Roo!”

“Whaaaat?” He shrugged at you as he dragged you to the bathroom, looking at you, “I just want to protect you and our baby.”

“I think that’s great, but baby,” you sighed, “Go back to bed and let me pee on my own, okay?”

He wasn’t sure, his eyebrows furrowed as he crossed his arms over his chest in displeasure as he watched you step closer to him, wearing your fluffy slippers.

“Relax, cranky,” you teased, before pressing a kiss to his cheek and heading into the bathroom.

Brad, being Brad, sat on the bed, his eyes glued to the closed door, mentally prepared to rush you if you did so little as whimper.

But minutes later, you washed your hands, yawned, and rubbed your eyes before jumping on your waiting husband.

You shook your head and let out a laugh of disbelief, “I can’t believe you.”

Worse, Bradley wasn’t the only one constantly freaking out and protecting you from the world’s many terrible dangers, and more specifically, TV remotes, vacuum cleaners, and everything else that was going on around him.

But so was Duke.

The little—now big—pup was definitely his dad’s best friend, because Duke’s body had grown and he would be right next to you whenever a family member or friend got too close. If you were all sitting on the couch, Duke’s paw was always on your belly next to Bradley’s hand.

It was enough to make you wonder if Duke was even human.

Bradley shared the news with the squad when you were almost 3 months pregnant:

"She's over there!"

His voice was drowned out by the clinking of glasses and the heavy bass of the rock song playing through the crappy speakers in the corner of the room, but it was still unmistakable. His "greeting" was followed by shouts and howls from the rest of the group, many of whom raised their glasses in honor of your (late) arrival.

"My hot wife!"

Bradley, despite his drunkenness, smiled widely and greeted you protectively, as he had for the last few weeks – this time he removed your coat and purse, along with any bags or extra weight he had hanging on brass hooks underneath.

You scanned the bar table and his facial expression for any signs of displeasure or concern.

He couldn't pinpoint exactly when he started "dad mode," his tendencies to go into overdrive, but it definitely started that rainy and cold Tuesday night in your shared bathroom as you sat leaning against the wall of the tub with three positive pregnancy tests.

“I wish you would stop calling me that, Brad,” you sneered as he helped you free your arms from your jacket. "One day you'll make a scene."

The drunk man chuckled.

"What can i say,baby?."

You nodded and rolled your eyes at his antics as you turned your attention towards to your soon to be husband and the man of the hour, intending to pull him in for quick hug and a kiss.

“Y/n!”

Despite the loud noise of the bar, you heard a familiar voice. You turned back to see Jake coming towards you both. Approaching Bradley first.

"Hello, birthday boy," Jake's voice was soft against the drunken slur that was beginning to take over Bradley.

"It's not nice of you to be late for my party,"

“Well sometimes traffic can be a pain in the ass,you know that. But here are my two favorite people standing together. Come give me a hug” he slurred, pulling both in rather roughly for a bone-crushing hug.

You managed to squeeze out a giggle between Jake's bone-crushing hug.

You saw Bradley stiffen out of the corner of his eye, as if saying, "Jeez calm down, dude. She's pregnant, for God's sake," or letting the interaction continue.

He knew he wasn't allowed to do the first one because you both agreed to wait until all your friends and family gathered at the same time to tell them the great news, so Bradley let Jake hug you. You hugged extra tight despite his unrealistic, dramatic concerns that he would crush his fragile body or somehow harm the baby. When he released you from his grasp, he made sure to send Jake a reassuring smile.

Your greeting to Penny and Natasha was short and sweet, both opting to kiss you on the cheek.

“Let me see it one more time,” Natasha’s voice was quiet, almost a whisper, over the chatter of the bar.

You felt the heat creep up your cheeks as she took your hand in hers to examine the ring on your fourth finger.

The ring was thin and gold, studded with a single, elegant but large diamond in the center.

“It's beautiful,” she whispered, marveling at the way the jewel floated even in the dim, tungsten glow of the bar.

You mumbled a quiet “thank you” before leading back to the other side of the table. You turned to where Bradley was waiting for you with his arms outstretched, a shit-eating grin on his face.

You caught the wind of tequila on his breath as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders.

You tasted it too, kissing his lips quickly and - oh my god, had he gained weight too? Or was he getting more bulkier? But he looked like a whole damn meal like this too.

"So okay?You did worry me when you said you were going to be late,are you okay now?" Bradley's question was asked in a low voice so only he could hear.

Bradley had been celebrating all day with Jake, Natasha, Javy, Mickey,Bob,Maverick and Penny so this was the first time he saw you since you kissed him and sent him off to work this morning.

You nodded and smiled, but your face made Bradley believe otherwise.

"I felt nauseous when I got home from the office. It took me a little longer to get out the door," he shrugged, implying that it wasn't a big deal but that he didn't feel 100 percent ready to party either.

“Baby,” Bradley half-scolded you, feeling a good portion of his hum leave his body when Y/N said she wasn’t feeling well. Clinging on you like a koala because of the alcohol in his veins.

"Why didn't you tell me you were not feeling good? I would come home and sit with you."

“I wasn't going to ask you to interrupt your best friend's birthday dinner just because I was vomiting for the umpteenth time this week,” you said sternly, making it clear that you were fine.

"I'm fine. I promise."

Bradley's jaw softened at your sentence, the muscles in his torso relaxing from their tense positions.

"Oh! Will you two stop whispering and get drunk with me?!" Jake shouted across the table, bursting the bubble that had temporarily surrounded the couple as both whispered about their sweet little secret they were dying to tell everyone.

“You,” Jake pointed a finger at Y/N’s head. “Don’t be shy. Now,” he pointed at the bartender who was making drinks at the opposite end of their table.

Both you and Bradley chuckled nervously, not sure how to handle the fact that you couldn’t drink without airing dirty laundry.

“I think I need to eat some food before I do that. Why don’t you get some for Bradley,” You grabbed Bradley’s shoulder and pushed him forward, praying that it would be enough to entertain the drunk boy.

“Fine,” Jake glared.

“That’ll make it hard for you to keep up later, though!”

He grabbed Bradley by the bicep and pushed through the crowd to get him liquor, which he was so eager for.

Your conversations with Penny were light, mostly about what they had done today and the bet they had made that Bradley would need to have a ride for the night.

You successfully dodged Natasha’s questions about how the fertility and planning were going,how the doctor was and was it helping your sex life.

“We are trying hard,it is going good,” you replied with a nervous chuckle, the truth being that you were pregnant right now.

It felt like ages before the two of them – Jake and Bradley– returned.

You had chosen the fries and were sipping on the ginger ale Bradley had bought you before Jake came, but you were interrupted when Bradley and Jake returned to the table.

He was drunk.

Quite drunk.

More than tipsy.

Damn he wasn’t even seeing straight anymore.

And you knew it because his body was even warmer and his eyes looked even hazier than before he left.

You definitely imagined them having more than one shot at the bar, but you didn’t have much time to think about it before you felt his arms wrap around your waist and rest on your hips. You returned his touch, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and resting your head on his chest.

“I love you,” Bradley murmured into the soft spot between your jaw and ear, then his hands slid under your shirt to rest on your lower belly.

“I love you too,” you said again.

You could feel him smiling against your skin as he cradled the barely-there baby bump beneath your oversized sweater.

Bradley was the only one who saw you regularly enough to notice the small changes your body was going through. To everyone else, you still looked like plain old Y/N.

“We like you more but if you don’t stop fooling me in the middle of this bar,” You began, speaking light-heartedly and quietly into your ear, “Everyone will know and you won’t understand. You have to be quiet in order to have that announcement party you’ve been planning for weeks.”

Bradley sighed, knowing you were right, and loosened his grip on your stomach, choosing to at least throw an arm over your shoulder to keep you close.

“I know what you’re up to,” Jake and Natasha looked at the two from across the table.

This caught the attention of not only Jake and Natasha, but also Bob,Maverick and Penny. Everyone turned to look at Jake, anticipating what he was going to say next.

“So what’s going on here, Y/n?” Jake asked flirtatiously.

A frown formed on Btadley’s face, his arms quickly pulled up to his chest as he huffed.

“You’re trying to get out of here and leave us alone on your birthday.”

“I guess I’m not even here then. I guess I am just your fantasy then,” Bradley said, rolling his eyes.

“We’re not trying to leave you, man. I promise,” you stuck your pinky out on the table as a gesture of sincerity.

“Besides.” Jake’s drunken chatter was starting to sound rather childish now, and it was getting more and more entertaining by the second.

“We don’t do that, Bangman,” Bradley Replied.

“Liars. Both of you.”Jake threw a bunch of straw wrappers in Bradley’s direction, which bounced off Bradley’s chest and landed near his feet.

They were both heavily intoxicated now, and you didn’t want a fight between them.

“Where could we possibly go, hmm?” Bradley scoffed, resting his chin on the knuckles of his free hand that was resting on the table. "What better thing could we possibly plan than spending time with you on my birthday dinner?"

They watched as Jake fought his remaining sobriety for an answer, but he eventually gave in to his drunkenness and said, "I don't know. You're probably going to fuck each other or something.”

The table burst out laughing and you hid your face in Bradley’s chest because you were embarrassed.

“It wouldn’t surprise me,” Penny said before taking a long sip of her cocktail.

“Look. We’re in agreement.” Jake tried her best to sound serious in his drunken stupor.

“Prove to me that you won’t leave me at here and have another shot,” Jake said like a 5-year-old.

“Dude why the fuck they would leave you here at his own party dinner?” Bob asked but Bradley cut him off. “Fine,” Bradley shrugged. “Let’s go back to the bar then.”

Bradley started to pull Jake towards him but was stopped abruptly.

“No,” Jake said quickly.

“Y/n too. If you both drink, you can’t go home and leave me,” he said proudly, as if it was the smartest idea he could come up with.

“Hangman, maybe she doesn’t want to drink with y-” Bob was cut once again.

“Oh my god Bob stop, she loves drinking!” Jake absurdly said.

He couldn’t even form proper sentences and he wouldn’t listen to anything you said or Bradley or Bob.

You just knew that Jake was sloppy drunk and acting like an idiot like he always did, but you couldn’t help but feel your palms start to sweat.

You couldn’t tell Jake the real reason you couldn’t have drinks with the group tonight, so you quickly tried to come up with another excuse since you’d been stuffing your belly with fries since he’d given you your last one.

But there was no need to think any further when Bradley was helping you with his.

“She can’t do that, man. Now, come on. Let’s get some more tequila. Looks like Nat,Javy and Mickey needs some more too, hmm?”

You pinched your nose in annoyance. He was doing his best to keep this all under wraps, but Jake was making it extremely difficult.

“Who are you? Her guardian? Are you telling her what she can and can’t do?” he shouted.

“No, you fucking nun. She can’t drink because you can’t drink when you’re pregn-”

Damn it.

Bradley covered his mouth before he could finish his sentence, but it was too late. He wasn’t sure what he was thinking when he said it. To be completely honest, he wasn’t even sure if he was thinking.

He silently prayed that neither Jake nor the others would hear him, but when they all looked between him and you with wide eyes, he knew immediately that it wasn’t true.

“Y/N, are you pregnant?” Maverick was the first to speak.

You felt stuck in place, only able to stare at Bradley with a very fast beating heart and an open mouth.

“I, um, I – yeah?” It came out more as a question due to your state of shock.

“I’m so sorry baby,” Bradley cried, turning to you to comfort you.

He was writhing with fear that you were angry with him, but it was mostly the alcohol that made him think that way.

“You have a baby?” Jake’s voice was unusually low compared to how loud he had been shouting earlier.

“Yes. It will be.” You were laughing nervously as you spoke. “I’m sorry Bradley ruined the surprise. We wanted to throw a big party and tell everyone at the same time, but I think the cat’s out of the bag for you.”

You rubbed the palm of your hand over Bradley’s back, silently assuring him that you weren’t mad at him. But the others were in a completely different world.

Jake didn’t say anything, just moved from his position next to Bob to get between You and Brad.

He looked at you both with an expression that resembled both anger and confusion, which only increased your discomfort.

In a split second, he wrapped his arms around both of you and hugged both of you tightly.

“Wow! This is the best news i heard today. Uncle Jake…What the fuck?! This is amazing!!

Now he was wandering around, smiling from ear to ear as he ran to Mickey and Javy, who had lost their minds again, to pull them into a group hug on her own chairs instead of on yours and Bradleys.

Both your eyes locked on each other in the middle of the group of friends and they were forced to be a part of his sandwich.

A smile and a knowing look exchanged between you, and despite not coming out in the most fashionable way, you knew that your precious little nugget would be surrounded by people who loved them very much. Everybody took their time to hug both of you and congratulate you.

By the end of the night, Jake leaned over his knees and placed his icy hands on your belly.

"Hi, I'm Jake, I love you..." He began to kiss her belly in a drunken voice.

"Fuck off Jake, that's enough." You burst out laughing as Bradley shouted from behind you.

"Okay.”

And that's how your pregnancy was revealed…

Few weeks later…

For a few days, it was Bradley and Duke’s normal protectiveness that you had gotten used to, but it wasn’t until Bradley’s mother invited you to a family gathering that Bradley reached a new level.

“Go join the others, okay?” You told him, “I’ll be fine here with your relatives,” and despite not being sure, he did as you asked, but looked at you often to make sure you were okay.

When someone is pregnant, that’s the talk of any sit-down.

“You’re glowing!” Many of Bradley’s family members fawned over your belly and your pregnancy, “Did you find out the sex of the baby?” one woman asked. You said you didn’t because you wanted to know when the baby was born.

All of this was fine.

But.

A lot of hands were constantly touching your belly.

You knew it was good intentions, but you couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable with every hand touching your belly—hands from people you weren’t that familiar with.

Every time someone touched your belly, you tried to take a discreet step back, trying to put your hands on your belly before they did, but it was no use.

Bradley knew you like the back of his hand.

So, in a failed attempt to hide your discomfort, he immediately tried to save you as you stood with a forced smile on your face with 6 of his relatives.

“Hi,” he chuckled, wrapping his arm around your waist before placing a quick kiss on your cheek.

“What if you’re not the father!” A woman joked happily, “We were just giving Y/N tips for the first month when the baby came,” she said before leaning forward to caress your belly, “I think it’s a baby girl.”

You frowned at the touch, taking a slight step back as you also moved closer to Bradley. He understood, wrapping his other arm around your waist, his relative pulling his hand away reflexively,

“Anyway, I’ll be so happy. Can you give us one minute please?” He asked them with a gentle smile before taking your hand in his and letting you both go to a quieter place.

You sighed in relief, caressing your little belly.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked softly, his hands covering your face, “What’s wrong, honey?”

“I just-” You sighed again, feeling overwhelmed with emotions that would make you cry.

“Hey, hey,” Bradley’s mood changed instantly, his eyebrows furrowed as he hugged you, pulling you closer to his chest, “I’m right here, I’m right here.”

“I just,” your husky voice said before you pulled away slightly but still leaned into him, “Everyone keeps touching my belly. Like, all these hands and all these people and some of them are like, some of them are just rubbing it or something or holding it there for a long time so they can feel the baby kick and it just makes me so uncomfortable.”

Bradley nodded as you spoke, looking into your eyes as he began, “You have every right to be uncomfortable, baby, I’m so sorry,” he said softly, “How about we go home, yeah? We can just go.”

“But your mom-”

He shook his head, “My mom will understand, I promise. I care about your comfort more than anything else,” he said. “Let’s go, okay?”

“Okay,” you sniffled.

“Yeah?” He smiled softly and leaned down to press his lips to yours in a soft kiss. “I love you, I’m so sorry.”

“I love you too,” you replied, before sighing, wrapping your arms around him. “And my back really hurts.”

“We’ll go home,” he said as he began to rub your back. “And I’ll massage you until you fall asleep, how does that sound?”

“Heavenly.”

He murmured, “How about I call my mom so you can say goodbye? You don’t have to say goodbye to everyone, I don’t want more people touching you.”

“You mean like I don’t know,” you shrugged, “Isn’t it a bit rude?”

“Fuck it,” Bradley replied instantly, “I can’t risk making you feel any more uncomfortable because someone might think it’s rude.”

And he kept his promise. Bradley called his mom so you could sneak off alone and say goodbye to the relatives.

And then he kept his promise once more because as soon as you got home he was buzzing around like a busy bee, making sure you were happy and comfortable before massaging your back.

“Mmh i love you so so so much,baby”

“Love you too honey.”

Child jake vs dagger squad

I'm tagging people who might be interested: @ohtobeleah @sebsxphia @callsign-fox @greenorangevioletgrass @roosterforme @teacupsandtopgun @floydsglasses @lyn-js @its-dee-lovely @its-the-pilot @friedchips94 @hardballoonlove @topguncortez @bradshawsbaddie @shanimallina87 @djs8891 @themusingofagothicsoul @promisingyounglady @the-romanian-is-bae @mamachasesmayhem @jessicab1991 @iefitzgerald-blog @charcole-grey @waterriseslew @desert-fern @eternalsams @callsigns-haze @promisingyounglady @els-marvelvsp @cevansbaby-dove @atarmychick007 if you are not comfortable please tell me!!

[starseungs]

➳ romeo and juliet is so overrated. lf

• pairing: lee felix x gn!reader (ft. kim seungmin)

blind dates are shit. and yet you're still roped into one by your wonderful mother who can't wait for you to experience "true romance." but what happens if you end up getting a second date? except its not with who your mom set you up with.

• genre: fluff, humor (romcom?), blind date au, strangers to lovers — 5.2k words

• warnings: mentions of food, blind date gone wrong, first date awkwardness, minor cursing, story is not actually inspired by romeo and juliet (incase the title gives off otherwise)

• note: this is in the same universe as this seungmin fic i also wrote! you can go read that after if you'd like, but this was mainly written as a stand alone, so its not going to affect too much if you decide not to^^ also this was a pain to proofread cz my laptop kept freezing- if theres any mistakes im sorry 💀

2022 ⓒ starseungs on tumblr. do not steal, repost, or edit.

Blind dates are shit. 

That was a motto you lived and breathed by—a belief you were very sure you'd end up taking to the grave. That's how much you detested the concept.

But like any sane person, you had a reason as to why attending a blind date was the last thing you'd ever want to do on a particularly good night—a time you could have used to relax from working the entire week. First of all, you'd much rather go on a date with someone you already knew. It saves the time normally spent trying to converse about the basics using small talk (you'd rather get to the more important topics, please.) And second of all—

—It never worked out for you.

Okay, maybe the second reason accounted for the bigger percentage of why you hated the process of blind dates so much, but who could blame you? Every blind date you've had so far has been either an "I'd-rather-not-experience-romance-in-my-life-anymore" bad, or good but with a catch that immediately turns you off. The only time the match you got vibed well with your standards, it turned out that they were already interested in someone else and were just forced on the date by their pushy mother.

Talk about relatable.

See, as much as you hated blind dates, your mother loved them to oblivion. The woman who birthed you was very determined to snatch you a person that would finally turn your "monochrome-painted single life" into one that had a significant other in it and give you a chance to finally experience bursts of color (her words, not yours.) The whole deal sounded like it came straight out of a fantasy book, one that had the concept of soulmates in it. Sometimes you wondered if she was doing all this so that she could finally leave you in the responsibility of someone else. Granted, you also did know the actual reason she desperately yearns to get you married soon was because apparently their children's lives were her friend group's only source of entertainment.

So when your mother called you out of the blue one night, telling you she'd gone ahead and set up a blind date with you and this other lady that she met in the market's son, you weren't anywhere near surprised. At that point, this was merely another normal day for you. Which was why, like an obedient child, you agreed ever so soullessly, just wanting to get the situation over with as soon as possible. If you had your way, you would have wished for nothing more than to laze on the couch with your roommate Seungmin, trying to watch whatever Netflix had to offer for this bleak afternoon.

But you couldn't—which resulted in you glaring heavily at the guy comfortably melted on your shared couch. He looked like he had not one care in the world, something you could probably trade your precious trinket collection for. "I hate you so much," you whined in defeat, pacing near the kitchen. "Why can't you go instead of me?"

Seungmin scoffed lightly in the background. "Yeah, right. Not interested," he shifted his position to make eye contact with your distressed form, "Just don't go? The world seems to give you bad dates anyway, so why not take fate's obvious advice and stop attending them?"

"But my mom would be so mad! It's also rude for me to stand the guy up after I said I would go…" Your roommate muttered something under his breath, but you had other things to worry about than what you would have guessed were his complaints about your indecisiveness. The date was set for two hours from now, and you haven't even stepped out of the apartment because of nerves.

Sure, you considered blind dates a waste of time for you, but that doesn't mean you don't get nervous when you're literally meeting new people who are expected to hit it off with you. At the end of the day, these were still strangers, and wanting to make a good first impression was a normal thing to feel. At least that's what you keep telling yourself as you tap your foot impatiently against the hardwood floor. You were very well aware of Seungmin's nasty side-eye directed towards your fidgeting, but he can take that complaint up with himself.

Deciding to suck it up and finally go, you called out to your roommate, who had already diverted his eyes to be glued to the TV screen. "Min, I have to go now," you informed him through your light pants, absolutely feeling the rush already even though you were still only trying to get your shoes on at the front.

"Sure. Enjoy," he waved you off quickly, not even bothering to spare you a glance. The show he's been waiting to watch was playing on the screen, letting you know Seungmin was already immersed in the story. You fondly rolled your eyes at his actions before heading out the door.

The outside world was a lot more welcoming today than you would have liked. With the temperature being perfect and the sun having mere hours until it says its goodbyes, casting a dim shade over the streets almost like a filter—it felt too perfect for a day you were expecting to go home and feel sorry for yourself once again. You clicked your tongue at the pitiful reminder and started picking up your pace. The sooner you got this over, the sooner you could return and mope around in the comforts of your warm bed. 

Who needs a significant other? Your bedroom was filled enough on its own.

It almost pained you to walk past the beautiful park, its landscaping coaxing you to stay and live your evening enjoying the gentle breeze. But you were already at your first destination, a whole building apart from the land of temptations, and you bitterly thought that whoever planned to build the two next to each other was a shameless sadist who wanted to ruin what was left of the positivity in people like you.

For someone wearing such an expensive-looking (emphasis on looking) semi-formal attire, one would think that you were heading to your plans via private transport. Clearly, that was what others seemed to think too, each one attempting to peel their eyes off you because of the way you stood out in the busy area. Well, boo hoo to them (and you; especially you), because no. You weren't. Not even a small vehicle called a motorcycle was available for your personal use. In fact, the area being mentioned is actually the train station, which is a few blocks away from your apartment complex. It was expected for the place to be cramped around this time—a rush hour filled with people wanting to go back home after a tiring day.

Oh, how you wanted to be one of them.

Yet instead, you were doing the exact opposite, boarding the public transportation because you had an appointment at dinner time. It's fine; you pat yourself on the back. Free dinner is still free dinner; you were not heading back home a complete loser tonight. That was, of course, if the gentleman you would be meeting in about an hour would be willing to pay the entire bill. The thought alone of the thin roll of paper left a sour taste in your mouth. Or maybe that was just the lemon-flavored toothpaste you used earlier.

The train ride was surprisingly the most bearable part of your day so far. Silence was always appreciated when it was needed, and you definitely needed it now. The white noise provided by the engines and the sound it made when the rails of the track came into contact with the train had you feeling drowsy. It was almost perfect; the ambience was relaxing enough for you to forget about today's agenda. Perhaps if this continued a bit more, you would walk out of this train and change plans to have an exciting "me time." However, that wish was shattered in seconds as you gripped your mobile phone tightly, reading the new message over and over again.

He's looking forward to meeting with you.

You didn't know if the dude was genuinely that deprived of a love life to look forward to meeting with a random person his mother set him up with in the grocery store—or that your own mother was twisting his words just to send you something, anything, that'll make you unable to turn around and ride another train back home. Either way, it looks like it's her lucky day because whatever the deal was, it actually worked on you. 

In a blink of an eye, you were already staring up at the fancy restaurant where it was agreed the two of you would meet. The building itself was already quite intimidating: tall, pristine white pillars you could barely name the material of (you weren't bougie enough for that), high ceilings with multiple intricate chandeliers—each adorned with crystal-like glass—and hints of gold plating along the walls. The people around you were on a different level as well, all dressed up in expensive brands you don't even know how to pronounce. It's safe to say that the place was a whole different world than the one you just came from.

So, what the heck are you even doing here?

How did your mother even arrange this for you? Was the guy a conglomerate's son or something? And if so, you really had to get this over with, stat. As much as you would love the experience, this was too much pressure. The rich life was not for you—money is great, but this much is quite nauseating. It's an acquired taste, you guess. 

"Excuse me, are you looking for your table?" An employee approaches you, most likely having seen your absolute distress over the situation. You quickly accepted the help and told her your name. "Your table with Mr. Seo is the second one to the right, along the windows."

Oh, so his last name was Seo? You knew it was already suspicious when your mother refused to tell you anything about his identity; which, now that you think about it, why did you even agree to? This man could be a serial killer, and you would be walking right into his trap. Still, you thanked the employee and beelined towards the direction she pointed. You saw the table easily, but the scene that accompanied it was not what you had expected.

Confusion hits you like a pile of bricks. That was him, wasn't it? Or were you mistaken? Checking your mother's message to confirm your suspicions (she had sent you another text saying that the guy was already there waiting), you were able to conclude that it was, in fact, the person who was supposed to be your date.

So if that's him, then who's the other one he's with?

"Psst," you heard someone call out. You knew better than to assume it was for you, though. This restaurant is a public space and may very well be getting the attention of another person. Plus, you don't even know anyone else at this place. "I know you heard me. Just look back; I'm talking to you," the voice followed up. But, you won't fall for it—you weren't born yesterday, and that could not have been for you. It's only common sense, right?

"Are you serious?" They sounded exasperated. "Person standing there like an idiot looking at the table by the window where a couple is sitting, please turn to me."

Oh. It's you.

Your head snapped towards the source of the voice, only to find a handsome face of a male around your age staring at you with eyes filled with amusement, his arms crossed and leaning against the tabletop. He looked to be seated alone, without a companion. You only tilted your head slightly as a way of asking what he wants from you.

Motioning over to your blind date's table, he asked, "You've been staring at them for a while. Is that your lover or something?" Your face contorted in offense, baffled at his words.

"What? No?"

"Good," he chuckles briefly, "I thought I'd have to console someone who got cheated on. By the way, do you want to take a seat first? You standing up right now is quite awkward…"

Realizing the scene you must've been making, you took his offer in embarrassment. "Yeah, thanks. But, no—I don't have a lover," you sighed, feeling your energy drain from the situation. "That guy was supposed to be my blind date, though. I have no idea what's happening." The man in front of you laughed. If you didn't agree with him that the turn of events was hilariously comical, then you would've been very annoyed at the action. Though admittedly, his adorable laugh was also a big factor. This man was attractive, no doubt. Why isn't he your date instead?

"That's a funny coincidence, I'm here on a blind date too," he glances over at the same table, "your date is with mine." 

You gaped at the revelation. What is this? A rom-com? There's no way these things actually happen! Or maybe they do—and you experiencing it firsthand right now would be enough proof. Looking at him with concern, you decided to speak. "Should we tell them?" He simply shook his head in response.

"Nah, I'd rather not. Why do you think I hadn't already? Look at them; they seem to be having a great time."

Seeing your two dates interact, there was no doubt they were hitting it off. Which was bad news to you, since now you just ended up wasting your time by coming here. You knew you should've just stayed home and flaked on the guy. Lesson learned: trust your gut instinct. It could save you a whole lot of time (and money, because when are train stations going to be free?) You mean, good for him for finding a date he liked, but this whole thing just turned out to be a huge mistake for you. But even with that, you didn't want to disturb them—you weren't some antagonist who ruins hope for others because they can't get a happy ending. 

Your silence must have been uncomfortable for the male across from you since he decided to break the silence. "So, random offer—do you still want a date? Maybe we could just be each other's," he says, pointing to you and him.

That... wasn't a bad offer.

In fact, it was a good offer. You didn't know much about this man, but something told your gut to see wherever this took you, and from what you experienced today, always trust your gut. Now, if you had to be honest, his face also played a big part in your spontaneous consideration. You weren't one to judge solely on one person's physical appearance alone, but the guy before you screamed a green flag, and you just couldn't ignore it. As a skeptic might say, you'll believe it when you see it—or, in this situation, you'll regret it once you're given a reason to.

"Sure."

The man before you looked shocked, almost like he couldn't believe that you had agreed to his offer. Was it a joke? Did you read the situation wrong? Maybe he was just trying to lift the mood but actually wanted to go home—you knew you did before this happened. However, all your doubts melted away instantly after seeing his wide smile, eyes sparkling with excitement and newfound interest. You swear you stopped functioning after seeing the sight.

Oh my, he's cute.

You felt your face heat up at the thought that invaded your mind. Get a grip, Y/N! This is a first date—you can't simp right away. At least make yourself seem appealing to the guy! You bit your lip, swallowing heavily at the sudden pressure put on you by your oh-so-fantastic mind. It's fine—you can do this. Icebreakers it is!

"So, what's your name?" You asked curiously, remembering that you've been referring to him as "the man" for the past few minutes that you've known each other. 

He perked up at your question. "It's Felix. Lee Felix," he replied politely while waving his hand for a waiter to bring the menus. After gaining the attention of one, he turned back to you. "What about you?"

"It's Y/N," you responded back. "You have an English name; are you half-foreign?" He hummed at your observation, the low tone catching you off guard. You had already noticed that his voice was deeper than what you had expected from looking at his face, but there was just something extra attractive about that hum. Catching your mind wandering again, you cleared your throat quietly.

"Good catch. I'm actually from Australia," he told you, the grin on his face growing a bit more at the mention of the place. He must really love Australia, huh? "My parents are both Korean, but I grew up there. Came here just a few years ago for work."

Does that mean he's here all alone? That must've been tough for him as well, to live in a whole new country and basically start his life over. You had major respect for people like that; they were what you saw as hardworking and goal-oriented. Sometimes, you even envied them. They could do so much with their lives with that mindset alone. You wish you could be like that someday too. It would be nice to rise above your current state right now—your job was paying enough to get you through the months, but there were still times where you had to worry about finances. Luckily, having a roommate helped with the rent portion of your bills.

Speaking of Seungmin, didn't he say he had an Australian co-worker?

"That's interesting! Australia, huh? I think my roommate mentioned something about having an Australian co-worker. I can't remember his name right now," you shared, "but imagine if you turned out to know each other. If you want, I can ask my roommate to introduce you two! I just thought it'd be nice for you to have another person from Australia with you. Deal with homesickness and all that, you know?"

You didn't think Felix's eyes could shine even brighter, but somehow they managed to do so. "That would be great! Expanding my social circle would be nice too. Making friends is a lot harder now that you're an adult," he sighs.

"You can say that again," you chuckled at his slightly dampened mood. Felix was quite expressive, you noted to yourself. Reading him wasn't hard, but it wasn't as if he put his whole heart on his sleeve either. If he was the type of person to show himself when he found you trustworthy, then you might have to thank him for being comfortable around you. Yes, blind dates didn't normally work for you, but that doesn't mean you didn't try. Of all the dates you've been on, you could only remember one where your efforts were practically zero, and that was just because the guy was a douche from the beginning. Felix was a lot different than the other people you've gone on dates with before—he was relaxed, treated you a lot more casually, yet still emitted that interest. You had a good feeling about where this was going. 

When the menus pulled up, you and Felix had already exchanged some basic interests with each other. This match must've been blessed by the gods because there was a lot you had in common, something you didn't even expect. You and him met under random circumstances, yet you had more chemistry with Felix than you had with any other of your past flings. Which, now that you say it like that, maybe that was why they only stayed as flings.

"Do you see anything you like?" Felix asked from across the table. You quickly scrambled to flip through the menu pages, trying to find something that interested you—too distracted earlier to even do so. Yet, just when you thought you could resume talking to him, you realized a big issue. 

What even were these dishes?

You might have never eaten in a place this fancy before, but—nevermind. That was exactly it. You've never eaten in a place this fancy before and therefore had no idea what all the dishes would taste like. You didn't consider yourself to be such a picky eater, but at that moment, you felt like your appetite was slowly leaving at each description of the meal you read under a dish name—wait, caviar?

Felix seemed to have caught on to your discomfort, because he spoke up once again. "Hey, do they not interest you? It's fine if you don't find something you want to eat," he says in a reassuring tone, letting you know that you don't have to feel bad. "Do you want to perhaps ditch this place? I know a good pizza place down the road." 

Your jaw immediately dropped at his nonchalant suggestion. Is this just something he does often? Make completely random (and baffling) offers? Well, to be fair, both of his offers to you have been good so far. Some pizza would be nice after everything that had happened today. However, this place is super expensive! That was the whole reason you felt uncomfortable ordering from the menu presented to you at the moment. He went through all the trouble of booking this place just for his first date to hit it off with someone else, so you sure weren't about to let his second date, which was you, let the whole reservation go to waste. Rich or not, you still had the decency to respect the effort that was put into getting a table at this place. 

"Felix, you can't be serious," you spluttered out, feeling a bit disoriented due to the situation. "I'm well aware of how much it costs to even be here, so we can't just leave!"

He only chuckles at your worry, making you widen your eyes even more. "Oh, yeah. I know that too. But to be honest, my date was the one who booked this place, it looks like their money was well spent though," he says, glancing back over at the table where your original date and his were, the two conversing naturally while dining. You purse your lips at the information. Okay, maybe that was a valid point. Plus, you really are craving pizza. 

Facing him, you divert your eyes in embarrassment. "I-I would also like pizza." 

Felix wouldn't say it out loud, but he found you really cute. Even more so right now, with you having that shy look on your face. He felt a strong urge to tease you and see more of that adorable expression, but he held himself back. One wrong move, and he'd end up being an asshole. Was it not normal to feel that way? You two have only met after all. But he felt it earlier—you were quite different than the other dates he's had. 

Despite being a very loving person, he wasn't one to believe in love at first sight. Yet, the moment he saw you standing all confused and flustered earlier, it immediately caught his full attention. It was as if fate wanted to bring you two together—and even though it sounds so cheesy, like something out of a romantic comedy, he found himself thinking that he could get on board with it. It wasn't even an hour since you met, and you were already creeping into his heart. It wasn't too fast, but just the right pace to know that something clicked. The feeling felt weird—who knew a stranger could have this much impact on you? He surely didn't. But maybe that was why he felt it a lot stronger than you did—not that he even knew what you thought of him.

Felix himself knows well that he was not a let-the-date-into-his-car kind of person on the first few dates (and most especially on the first date), but somehow he found himself breaking his own rule for the first time ever since getting a vehicle of his own. Not that he would leave his dates to get home on their own, of course—he would always politely offer to pay for their cab home. The idea of taking a (for the most part) random stranger somewhere in his car when it was just the two of them alone didn't sit right with him. Felix is well aware that he could've been seen as uninterested by some of the dates, but it wasn't like they were entirely wrong. He only went on blind dates anyway, so the chance of meeting someone who actually interested him enough to imagine a dating life was not that high in the first place.

Yet here you were, sitting awkwardly beside him on the passenger's seat. It wasn't like you weren't comfortable—okay, maybe you were a bit uncomfortable; but that was only because getting into the car of a person you just met about an hour or more ago was not something you planned for yourself tonight. Heck, none of this was on your list of expected events tonight. Firstly, you didn't even get to say a single word to the date your mom set you up on, and secondly, you scored yourself a completely different person! All you wanted was to stay in your bed the whole evening and mope like the hermit you are. 

Oh, if only Seungmin could see you right now. 

The rumbling sound of the car made itself present to your ears, effectively taking you out of your thoughts. "Let's go?" Felix asks you—the thoughtful gesture awakening butterflies in your stomach. What in the world is going on with you? This man was literally just doing the simplest things, and yet he already seemed to glow in your eyes. You're not falling, are you? You don't fall easily.

At least that's what you believed.

"Y/N?" He questioned, his voice mixed with a hint of concern. "I hope you're alright with all of this. Are you uncomfortable? Maybe I should've asked before we decided to take my car; I'm sorry—do you want to just walk there?" He panicked, which made you panic at his distress too.

"N-no! It's fine; I'm fine—are you fine?" Great, now you were both bundles of nerves. Felix wanted to kick himself for starting the situation. Where did all his earlier confidence go? That, he didn't know. Either way, he wished for it to come back and help him earn some points from you. You, on the other hand, were almost on the verge of collapsing from stress. "Let's just head there," you squeaked, to which Felix only nodded (a bit too quickly.)

"Sorry," Felix sighs, unable to look at you due to his focus on the road. "This is the first time I'm doing this, so I don't know what to do."

You tilted your head at him in confusion. "You mean a date?" He shook his head.

"Driving a date, I mean."

"Really now?" You exclaimed with interest. "I would've never guessed that! You look like the type of guy a lot of people are interested in. You're quite popular, aren't you?"

He chuckles in amusement at your words. "I don't think I'd use that word to describe me. I only do blind dates anyway. Unfortunately I haven't found my person from those ones," he says, glancing at you for a split second, "but maybe the wait was all worth it."

You couldn't help but huff at his act of flirting, rolling your eyes playfully. He got you there. You didn't think Felix would be this smooth, but seeing as he boldly set up a date with you earlier, maybe this was to be expected. "That was a good one, Mr. Lee." At your response, Felix's eyes shone with excitement. He did that a lot when he was happy, you thought mentally. You had to bite back a laugh at how fast he changed up—though you had to admit that was part of his charm.

It was safe to say that the rest of the date went very well. For such a spontaneous plan, you enjoyed it a lot more than you had thought you would. Plus, you found a new pizza place! You'd have to eat there again soon; everything on the menu seemed really good. Unfortunately, you didn't get to eat at the venue because it was full—something Felix panicked over once again. After a while of negotiating (because he wouldn't let it go), you two ended up having an impromptu picnic at a nearby park, enjoying the quiet surroundings that were dimly lit by the street lights. You had never experienced going on a picnic at night before, so this was going to be on the list of firsts you experienced today with Lee Felix—a guy that you didn't even know until a couple hours ago. 

It's crazy how fast someone can come into your life and already make unforgettable memories. In the short period of your date, the two of you learned a lot about each other. Whether both of you would be able to keep this up and progress or not, this was going to be a night you would remember for years to come. Who knows—maybe it would make an exciting old people tale to tell in the future?

"So hey," Felix starts nervously, stopping the car in front of your apartment complex. He pauses for a short second before exhaling and facing you with a determined gaze. "I'm not quite sure about how you feel, but I really enjoyed this date. Do you think we can go on more?" 

"Sure," you were unable to stop the wide smile from appearing on your face, very satisfied with the chance of a second date. "I'd like that."

"Oh, damn. I'm glad," he quickly relaxes before getting alarmed by something and snapping his head towards you again. "Wait, your parents are fine with you not meeting with that other guy right?"

You chuckled at his apprehensive form, entertained by his precaution. "I'm pretty sure my mom just wants me to find someone nice and go marry them."

"Marry? Hold on, that's for a later date," you felt your cheeks warm at the implication of his words, yet Felix keeps going. "But that's good. I thought there was a chance this was going to end up like some Romeo and Juliet thing where your parents get mad because you're supposed to marry the other guy."

"Felix, relax," you managed to comfort him through stifled laughter. "I'm not some high-status rich person, you know?"

After your short conversation to end the night, you enter the apartment complex with a huge smile pasted on your face. Lee Felix was an amazing guy, that's for sure; you still can't believe he wants a second date. You let out a quiet squeal of happiness, speed-walking towards your apartment to brag to your roommate. 

"Yeah, Romeo and Juliet is so overrated anyway."

mastertag 🏷️ : @h0neydewmoon @starzzns @lhskokoro @bookishcalls | let me know if you want to be added or removed^^

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

When? | Spencer Reid

Add yourself to my taglist! | Here’s my masterlist!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, mentions of drugs, not proofread

Author's note: This one's based off a song by Belgian pop-singer Pommelien Thijs called "Wanneer" ("When"). Just needed to get it out I guess?

Words: 1.327

Dating someone who lives from case to case, out of suitcases and in and out of hotels wasn’t the easiest I had ever done. Loving someone like Spencer would’ve been so easy if it wasn’t for the career he’d chosen for himself. 

For four years, Spencer and I had been doing great. We loved, we laughed, we cried. I bent myself backwards and in impossible bends to adapt to his lifestyle. He molded me until I fit into his life, made me into something I had never been. He molded me softly until I burst and broke.

Every day, I folded like paper. Everyone saw it and still, I stayed with him. I stayed with him while he rotted away slowly between my molars. It was bittersweet to lose him, but he was wrecking me, wrecking my entire life. 

The last time I saw Spencer was when he was leaving for yet another case. He knew how I felt about it, he knew it was wrecking me, and yet he didn’t say anything to reassure me that everything was going to be okay, that he was going to return to me. It seemed as though he, himself, had given up on us at that moment. 

It seemed like a silent agreement that we wouldn’t be seeing one another when he returned from Los Angeles this time. By the time he returned, the apartment was empty and void of all things that made the place a part of me. 

When he left for Los Angeles, I went to stay with a friend of mine, not wanting to be anywhere near Spencer when he returned. I felt terrible for leaving him like this, but there was nothing left to save. 

And still, six months after I had left Spencer, I was still looking back at everything we had done and everything that had happened. From the good to the bad. But especially the night we separated played in my mind over and over again. 

It made me wonder when I would stop looking back, when I would stop being the sum of him. Spencer’s fingertips molding me to fit into his life had tainted me. 

“Hey Sugar,” the familiar voice of Penelope Garcia caused me to snap out of my thoughts. I smiled up at her as she slid into the booth opposite of me. The two of us had decided to go for brunch together on her day off. 

Penelope Garcia and Emily Prentiss were the only people from Spencer’s life I dared to see. It might also be the reason why I could never truly let go of him. 

Or maybe it was just maybe holding onto the scraps of my relationship with him. 

“Hi Pen,” I greeted. “How are you?” 

Penelope gave a sympathetic smile with a tilt of her head. “I should ask you.” 

“Please, don’t,” I chuckled and Penelope opened her mouth to say something, but I beat her to it. “You know I’m gonna say ‘no’ and I don’t wanna elaborate on it because then I fear I might start crying in this diner.” 

The blonde’s lips rolled inwards. “Sorry, Sugar. Lemme tell you about how I’m doing then,” she said and I nodded my head eagerly, wanting to be distracted with anything that could possibly distract me. “All right. So, me and Kevin went on this nice, sweet date and he put all his lovin’ on me. Though we couldn’t quite make it to the bedroom as suddenly someone called. Guess who?” 

“Who?!” 

“You have to guess, otherwise it’s no fun.” 

I sipped the iced coffee I had ordered before Penelope came in. “Uhm, okay, since you are actually quite happy about it, I’m gonna say your sweet prince, Derek Morgan because his calling would mean Kevin got jealous, which would result in some sweet, steamy lovin’ after the phone call.” 

“Honestly, how are you not a profiler?” Penelope asked. 

I scoffed. “Or I lived with one for too long.” 

“Honey,” Penelope pouted. 

I shook my head, trying to fight the tears that threatened to spill. “No. No, I am not going to cry in the middle of a stupid diner.” I inhaled deeply through my nose. “Okay, what did Derek want?” 

“Honey,” Penelope started again, reaching out to grab my hand to squeeze it. “You should talk to him, you know?” I raised an eyebrow at her. “I’m not saying you should get back together with him, but maybe you should clear the air, you know?” 

I nodded my head, trying to retain the information my friend is trying to give me. She was probably right. Moving on from Spencer would only be possible if I talked to him and cleared the air. 

Later that night, I found myself knocking on the apartment door I once shared with the man I loved, still loved. It didn’t take seconds before Spencer was in front of me, worry swimming in the honey eyes I came to love. 

“Hey,” he whispered, opening the door a little more and stepping aside so I could come in. The place still somewhat looked the same, albeit missing some of my own knick-knacks. 

“I-I’m sorry to barge in like this, Spence,” I said, voice cracking ever so slightly. “I just… I think we need to talk.” 

“Sure. Do you–Do you want some tea maybe?” 

I shook my head and accepted his invitation to sit down on the couch. “Spencer, I–”

“Why did you walk out on me?” He immediately cut me off. 

My brows furrowed ever so slightly before I shifted in my seat. “Spencer, you know why. I couldn’t–I couldn’t live like this anymore. What, you expected me to just wait for you to come home everyday? It wrecked me to wait for a sign from you that you were still in one piece.” 

“Sweetheart, you know that’s my job.” 

The pet name sent shivers down my spine. It had been weeks since he’d called me that. “I know it is, but what am I?”

“Everything happens for a reason, y/n.” 

“You always say that,” I scoffed. “You’ve stolen so much more than I could ever admit…” I got up from the sofa and rubbed my face in frustration and anger. “You know the most beautiful thing about you were all my best parts? I blame you for so much more than you could ever know, Spencer.” 

“What are you even talking about, y/n? What did I ever do to you that was so bad, huh?” 

Tears finally rolled off my cheeks as I looked him straight in the eyes. “You never really cared how I was feeling about you leaving every time. I know it’s part of your job, but you getting hurt and you getting hopped up on some drug isn’t. Everything that happened to you, everything that has hurt you, hurt me, too, Spencer. Ever thought about that?” 

“That’s what this is about? Y/N,” he scoffed. “I’ve been sober for fifteen months!” 

“Yeah, but our love wasn’t.” 

Spencer shook his head, sighing deeply. “You might feel like this about it now, but I know you’ll come back to me, y/n. You always have. We’re perfect for each other and you know it.” He got up from his spot on the couch and took two long strides towards me. “I promise you, everything will get better.” 

He grabbed my hands and held them tight, forcing me to look me in the eyes. Though his eyes swam with sincerity, she couldn’t bring herself to it to forgive him and fall back in his arms. His promises were made of paper and paper could be so easily burnt. They were burning right there where we were standing. It shredded me into pieces but between the ashes, I could see myself being happy again, being myself again. 

Shaking my head at him, I yanked my hands out of his. “Let me go, Spence. I need to find myself, I need to figure out who I can be without you.” 

His promises of paper, our written story… I was finally able to fold it up because I was able to continue. 

Even as I left his apartment, I wondered… 

When? 

Everything taglist: @calamitykaty @littlemissaddict @n0wornever @wanniiieeee @unnowhatthisistbh

[cervidame]

hey! i looove the way you write theo in genesis (that entire fic is GOLD) and was wondering if you had an analysis or any headcanons for theo's character?

(also, feel free to ignore this ask if i'm asking for too much 😅)

*cracks knuckles* In short: - The role of printer's apprentice sparks a lot of thought around the politics of the time and the process of wanting to raise awareness/give a voice to issues that don't normally get attention. - If he didn't inherit a barony, he'd publish & edit periodicals, probably publishing a novel after some time. - His lack of having a voice/vote as a working class man makes him relate to Eloise. - Theo would be sympathetic to first wave feminism and Chartism. - Staffordshire was at the heart of industrial revolution and thus suffered its worse effects, resulting in riots & strikes from the 1830s - 40s, making it the perfect stage for a fic focusing on these issues before they explode. - Theo "closes the door" on his emotions and walks away when he can't handle things. - Eloise is better at recognizing her emotions and communicating them because of her family. - is a coffee fiend OK hi anon so! Theo's role as a printer's apprentice is actually important. On completion, this can be a lucrative trade and many apprentices went on to make their own news pamphlets and politicals. You can imagine sort of political newsletters, Twitter threads, and newspaper opinion pieces and book reviews of the day as the equivalent to give a voice to various issues. They'd include some essays (I guess today we'd call them opinion pieces) from various people. A notable example has been mentioned in the fic - The Monthly Review - which started in 1749. Just from seeing how well read Theo is, the fact he appears to regularly attend assemblies, and from his work I've developed his character to be politically engaged and radical (for the time). Outside of Genesis, I imagine Theo's ambitions would be to be the editor of his own periodical in the style of The Monthly Review with a strong emphasis on politics.

Theo would be a strong sympathizer of the Chartism movement. This movement of the working class boomed from the 1830s. The charter included 6 things including giving all working men the right to vote. The system in England at the time focused on landowners then. It's not just the poverty of his (and others like him) in England that bothers him in the show. It's the lack of having a voice, which also makes him sympathetic to the women's movement and Eloise's plight is relatable in that sense, even if their backgrounds are very different. Chartism resulted in many riots including the Pottery Riots of 1842. In Burslem, near where I grew up, a young man (just 19) was shot dead by police during a strike march. In retaliation, the strikers burned down the house of the magistrate who'd ordered the police to shoot at the rioters. While my fic Genesis takes place before this movement boomed, issues had long since begun and Theo is well aware of them. He wants to help and use his voice for good. Theo buries his emotions. We see this in the last interaction of Theo & Eloise where he walks away and shuts the literal door in his workplace. My headcanon, and what we explore in Genesis, is what happens when that door starts to burst open. That's why little thoughts of Eloise creep through. You can't hold back your emotions forever. Eventually it bursts out. We also see this in how he's dealing with the news of being presented to the Queen and becoming the official heir to the Barony. Lock it away. Deal with it maybe later (or preferably never!!). This is why Eloise, who took the first step in stating her emotions to Theo (also because of their difference in station) is a good balance for him. I do think she's better at communication and has a better awareness of her feelings, helped by her interactions with Benedict who's very open and supportive! Vs Theo who I see as an orphan with a very limited support system. He hasn't developed this type of communication / emotional intelligence quite as much. Uhhhh I guess finally he loves coffee more than tea and probably liked going to coffee houses on occasion - actually more for the coffee than all the political discussions which he also loved.

[sissytobitch10seconds]

Birdsong: Ribs

Fandom: Grishaverse: Six of Crows and Shadow and Bone (TV) Summary: Wylan is kicking himself in the ass for being as late as he was. He knew that his partners had to be worried, it was almost three hours after he sat that he would be home, after all. It seems as thought the world is determined to make him even later than ever when he hears something in the parking lot near his work. Warnings: Physical assault, mentions of canon-typical grooming/child abuse, and blood Word Count: 10,501 Ship(s): Nina Zenik/Wylan Van Eck/Jesper Fahey/Matthias Helvar/Inej Ghafa/Kaz Brekker

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A/N: At the time of writing this, I had not read the books so a lot of the plot was still pulled from the show. I've now finished the book but I don't want to rewrite the whole series so I'm editing some things as I go. If you notice inconsistencies from here on out that's why! Stay sissy and bitchy everyone <3

Wylan winced as the door to his lab shut harder than he had meant it to. He had gotten so wrapped up in the work that he had been doing, finally hitting the breakthrough that he had been searching for, that he hadn’t noticed how late it had gotten. He tried to make sure that he was home no later than six so that he could eat with his partners before Kaz had to go oversee the opening of the Crow Club. Inej often had a call time around seven as well, so it killed two birds with one stone to be home before they left. That way he knew that he had at least one in person interaction with them each day, since they were usually asleep when he woke.

He had broken the rule that he had made with himself by working over what his normal limit was. He didn’t break the rule often, maybe once or twice a year. A lot of the time when he was working in the lab, he was running the same experiment over and over again, which was so monotonous that he would often skip out on a test or two that he could have run that day in favor of doing it the next day instead. It was worse when he was writing his reports, since he had to speak slowly to his speech-to-text program so that he could get it written up faster than it would take him to try and type everything. Spellcheck was a godsend, but reading and writing were so much harder for him than they were for everyone else that he worked with.

Today he had been so wrapped up in the new breakthrough that they had made, that he had totally forgotten to keep track of the time. He had been mumbling down ideas into the notepad app on his phone the entire day so that none of the ideas would escape him. By the time that he had looked up again, ripped from his thoughts as he realized that he was famished, all of his coworkers were gone and the building had been darkened.

Wylan had finished cleaning up the lab and then locked the building as quickly as he felt he could while still being responsible so that he could go home. He hurried towards the parking lot that he had found a spot in that morning after running a little bit behind. That was the annoying thing about working so close to the university campus when school was in session, it resulted in him having to walk two blocks just to get to his car so that he could go home because all the other spots were taken. Still, it meant that they got a lot of student interns so they didn’t have to spend the extra money they were already strapped for, instead just giving them credit for their classes and real world experience.

He tugged his headphones out of his bag and then connected them to his phone as he picked the audiobook that he had been listening to that week. He and Jesper had a mini book club that they participated in, though it was turning into a playful argument about which audiobook producer was the best. Despite the fact that Jesper listened to more podcasts and music than he did audiobooks, he still had very strong opinions about it. Jesper was able to read physical copies even if it was only in short bursts, but Wylan preferred to keep reading as much as he could even with his learning disability, so he tended to plow through the books that they were allegedly reading together. 

The soothing voice of the narrator washed over him as he stuck his hands into his pockets and walked down the street towards his car. He was trying to focus on what was being read to him instead of the plan that he was coming up with for the end of the study. He knew that if they made a big breakthrough and patented or sold something, then they’d be able to continue the work that they had been doing in the lab more than they ever expected to. Wylan didn’t look at science as a way of making money necessarily, he would still experiment by himself even if he wasn’t being paid to do it, but this way he could continue to work with the team that he had grown very attached to.

After about only three minutes and half a block, he decided that trying to pay attention to an audiobook just wasn’t going to happen because he was too invested in what he had been working on. Jesper and Matthias were both going to be very pouty when he got home and all he could talk about was work despite being late. At least Kaz would understand, but he’d be at work until midnight at the earliest.

Wylan let out a little put-upon sigh. It was hard to navigate adult relationships, even if the freedom of adulthood was more than worth it. Sometimes he longed for the simplicity that had come with being a teenager, but he was always quick to remind himself how much happier he was now. Even if he had his partners back then, the abuse that his father had put him through would have made him miserable despite the support of the five wonderful people he had met.

Instead, he hummed the song that had been pestering the back of his mind as he walked. Ever since they had actually started going steady with her, Jesper and Matthias had been playing the music from the band that their new girlfriend was in. The artists were very talented and Wylan had to admit that her voice was soothing, but it was still annoying that they were so good at becoming earworms when he was trying to have other thoughts.

He paused when he got to the edge of the parking lot to the bar that was on the other side of the block to his lab building. The area was mostly deserted now that students weren’t using it to get as close to campus as they could, but a few cars were still parked there. It was one of the least popular bars in town (and Wylan wasn’t biased because the Crow Club was becoming busier every day, he assured himself), so there were only about a half dozen vehicles. 

What really caught his attention was the scene that was unfolding. There was a man wearing a red and white varsity-style jacket with the last name ‘Kaminsky’ stitched into the back and a pair of blue jeans with a thick brown belt. He was advancing on a woman while shouting at her, “You think that you’re tough shit because you stole Alina away from Aleksander but you’re nothing but a fucking whore!”

“Ivan, you’re drunk, you need to go home,” the woman replied.

Wylan took a step forward so that he could get a better look at her. She had coiled brown hair that was loose around her face and shoulders, which only served to bring out the pronounced jawline and cheekbones of her face. Her lips were soft and pouty, but that was mostly because of the peach colored lipgloss that she was wearing. She had accented eyeliner in pink under the black and rosy cheeks to match the eyeshadow. She was wearing a blue mini skirt that was tucking into a loose black bodice that had sheer puffy sleeves. 

Objectively, she was very pretty. Wylan knew that women who were stereotypically attractive tended to get accosted by drunk men a lot, especially since he had begun his queerplatonic relationship with Inej. She had taught him a lot about women that he had never been able to pick up from his step-mother because of their distance. His own mother had disappeared when he was too young to learn about the kinds of things Inej had taught him and come back into his life after he had gotten together with the aforementioned acrobat.

Still, they seemed to know each other so Wylan hung back to let things play their course. He didn’t want to interrupt something and then get shouted at for it, especially when he was already feeling emotionally frayed from working too much that day. He desperately wanted to go home so that he could cuddle with his partners and eat dinner while watching bad TV, but this was important. It was possible that the situation would turn violent and she would need help, but he didn’t want to assume right away.

“You don’t get to talk to me like you know me!” the man screamed. He smashed the beer bottle that had been hanging loosely from his hand down onto the car behind her, which caused a few shards of glass to cut through her freckled skin. Beads of red blood blossomed on the skin and began to dribble down her cheek. She was pinned up against the car, the only other option for her was to move towards the wall which would result in her being trapped from all sides.

Wylan got out his phone and pointed it towards the fight. He had gotten used to doing that a lot when he was a teenager, but he was glad that something had come from that miserable time in his life. Hopefully if things escalated it could actually help the woman.

The woman had finally regained her voice after the sharp cry of panic that she had let out, “Ivan, you know that I don’t control what Alina does! I have nothing to do with the breakup, I just rejoined the band when she said she wanted to start playing again.”

That only provoked the man further instead of de-escalating it like she had no doubt hoped for. “You are the only person that was still allowed to be in contact with her from the old band. I know that you continued the music too. You really think that I’m stupid enough to believe that lie you made up for everyone else?”

“I expect you to be a rational fucking human, but apparently I set my standards too high!” she shouted back at him. “You really think that I single handedly tried to tear down The Fold?” she snarled.

Wylan could hear the fear in her voice as she did so. He took a step forward, preparing to help her if things got more serious, his phone still recording. He could feel her anxiety in his own veins, heart thrumming, lungs gasping for more air, mind racing. 

“I think that you’re a traitorous bitch that would do anything to try and ruin the career of a man you hate,” the other man replied. He kept advancing on her, caging her in with his body more and more. He was svelte, thinner than she was, but he was also a couple of inches taller than her. It was made worse based on the fact that she was cowering back against the car that he had pinned her on.

Wylan envied the confidence that took over her features as she pushed up her chest and stood at her full height despite that mostly closing the space between them. She had a fierce look burning in her eyes, one that Wylan would have never been able to summon up if he had been standing in front of his father during one of their fights. Her mouth twisted into a truly feral smirk as she said, “I had nothing to do with the falling of The Fold. I think that you should talk to your precious Darkling about why he tried to sink all of his money into shit lawsuits to get back the girl that he groomed when she finally dumped his ass and took him for all he was worth. Maybe he should have thought before he decided that he didn’t need a prenup.”

That made Ivan snap. 

He had swung his arm back and then brought it forward before Wylan even had the time to process what he was doing. The sickening crack that sounded as his fist collided with the woman’s jaw made him cringe. He shoved his phone in his pocket so that the camera was peaking out over the fabric and still recording their conversation as he rushed over. He may have been several inches shorter than the attacker, but two bodies were better than one so there was a good chance that he would actually be of some use when it came to helping her. 

“Leave her alone!”

“Stay out of this,” Ivan replied. 

The woman was bent over slightly, slumped against the car. She was supporting herself with one of her hands so that she wouldn’t fall over and holding her cheek with the other. One side was still dripping blood down her forehead so that it streaked the rest of her face and the other side was no doubt going to be blooming with a dark bruise based on the sound alone.

“You know, I don’t think that I will,” Wylan replied. He reached down into his bag for the pepper spray that he brought with him everywhere he went. He was a little less paranoid about people randomly attacking him when he was out on the street than Kaz, but the couple weeks that he had spent homeless had made it so that he never went anywhere without a way to protect himself. Just remembering the fights escalating to the point where he had decided the open streets were safer for him made him furious that the woman was being attacked out in the open like that.

Coming over to help had the effect that he wanted, which was both a good and a bad thing. Ivan had seemingly forgotten about the woman and had turned fully to Wylan, but there was more hate and rage burning in his drunken eyes than before. “This has nothing to do with you,” he snarled, spewing flecks of spit out towards Wylan.

“This has something to do with me because you’re attacking someone less than a block from the place where I work! I may not know who you are or why you’ve decided to be an absolute ass, but it’d be wrong of me to just walk away. That’s the right thing for you to do, though,” he said confidently. He uncapped the pepper spray in his bag and then wrapped his fingers around the small bottle. It would take him less than a second to bring it out, aim, and then incapacitate the man, as long as alcohol was the only thing in his system. He had seen pepper spray being used on another one of the homeless youth from his camp, and because the other had been on PCP it had been basically useless.

“He’s right, Ivan. What would Fedyor think about you doing this? I know that your husband still works for that scum but we were once friends. I don’t think that he’d be very happy about you wailing on me,” the woman said as she righted herself.

“Keep my husband’s name out of your mouth, wench,” he snarled as he turned back around. Apparently mentioning whoever she had was the wrong move, as he wrapped his hand into her dark locks and threw her down to the ground.

Wylan had moved in an instant, before he even knew what his legs were doing. He brought the pepper spray out of his bag as he moved, aiming and spraying just as he had been playing over and over again in his mind. The red liquid dusted through the air until it was covering the eyes and face of the attacker, burning into his skin.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he screamed as he fell down to his knees and began to claw at his eyes. It would do nothing to remove the irritant from where it was sticking, but it was the only thing he could think of in his addled state to get rid of the feeling.

Wylan quickly stepped around him and then offered his hand out to the woman. She had bounced hard against the asphalt of the parking lot but was already beginning to right herself, one hand once again cupping the side of her face. “Do you think that you can stand?” he asked as he offered his hand out to her.

She nodded weakly as she took it and used it to haul herself to her feet. She whimpered as she took a step, her ankle doubling because of the break in her heel. She bent down and removed both of her shoes, looping her fingers around the back so that she could carry them. Wylan took her hand in his again and then began to pull her down the street so that Ivan couldn’t get up and follow them if he somehow overcame the burning that of the pepper spray. It was unlikely that would ever happen because of the potentness of the irritant, but Wylan had learned that sticking around to make sure the monster had been taken down resulted in getting hurt.

They ran over the street, crossing against the red light because there were no other cars on the road. She held onto him like if she let go then she’d drift back to the place of pain and fear that she had been in before, something that he was intimately familiar with.

Wylan was by no means unfit, but he didn’t work out as much as his partners did. He and Kaz tried to do at least a little bit of physical activity, Wylan so that his body didn’t go stiff with how long he spent over a desk and Kaz to help self-regulate his chronic pain issues. Matthias worked out because he enjoyed it, Inej did it because it was part of her job, and Jesper somehow managed to stay fit because of the singing and acting that he threw himself at every chance he got. 

Running down two blocks and into the parking lot where his car was left him gasping for air, along with the woman next to him. Her chest was heaving to bring in air even though she was nowhere as winded as he was. He wondered what she did for a living that let her have that much breath control, but now wasn’t exactly the time to ask.

He winced as he realized what he had done, eyeing her shoes where they were still clenched in the hand that wasn’t holding onto his. He dropped her hand then when he remembered that he hadn’t yet let go and said, “I’m sorry for bringing you all the way here, I should have brought you to your car.”

She waved him off dismissively, “I didn’t drive here and this is far enough that I can’t imagine Ivan being able to follow us.” She paused for a moment as her hand drifted up to where she had hit her head through the thick chocolate curls and Wylan remembered another thing that he technically should have done.

“Would you mind if I checked you out? I may not be a medical doctor but I’m still trained in first aid so I should be able to see if you have a concussion or not,” he explained nervously. He reached into his bag and dug out the keys to his car, unlocking it with a fluid motion. He opened up the hatch to the back and then pulled the emergency wool blanket over the dirt and grim covered edge so that she had somewhere to sit that was relatively clean.

It was a bit of odd paranoia that had followed him well into adulthood, even after he had become the legal owner of a home. He knew that it was unlikely that he would ever break up with his partners and even more unlikely that it would be all of them, or that him no longer being in a relationship with them would result in him being back on the streets, but it was a worry that always hung heavy in the back of his mind. He made sure that any vehicles that he owned had enough space for him to sleep in the back comfortably so that he wasn’t quite as exposed as he had been when he was a teenager.

“Right, you probably should,” she nodded. “I think if I said no my friend Tamar would find out and actually come to kill me.”

She let out another one of her pleasant laughs. It made Wylan feel comfortable and happy, settled back into his body instead of pushed out of his skin by adrenaline and bad memories. This woman reminded him a lot of Inej, though she was soft where Inej was sharp and quick where Inej was slow. While Wylan’s queerplatonic partner was a lot more partial to fixing people that bothered her with a silent yet deadly stare that promised untold pain, the woman next to him was the type to face her problems head-on with all the ferocity that she could muster. She didn’t seem jagged and broken afterwards the same way that Inej did, her confidence letting her head stay high instead of crumbling to dust after.

Wylan wanted to get to know her more, but he could do that after he made sure that she was okay. “I’m going to check your pupils with the flashlight on my phone,” he warned her. She had sat down on top of the blanket in front of him so that he could reach her easily, which he was grateful for. Despite the fact that she had already removed her heels, which had made her a few inches taller, she was nearly a head taller than Wylan when he was standing at his full height. 

She just hummed in acknowledgement, choosing not to nod her head, which was probably for the best. Wylan grabbed his phone from his pocket and stopped the recording that he had completely forgotten about. He then placed his hand on the edge of her eyelid. He shook the device in his other hand twice to activate the flashlight before he brought it up and shone it directly into her eye. The pupil shrank and revealed more of the beautiful green color in her irises.

He repeated the process on the same eye once and got the same response before he did it to the other. When he was sure that her pupils were dilating and constricting as they should have been, he pressed the light button on the back of his trunk so that they could properly see each other. The overhead streetlights had given them enough that he wasn’t worried about hurting her while he checked her out, but it would be easier for them both to maneuver around.

Wylan fidgeted with his first aide kit as he tried to figure out what he was going to do next. Before he even got the chance to start forming a sentence, she asked, “What’s your name?”

“Huh?”

He winced. He wasn’t very good at meeting new people. 

She didn’t seem to mind very much, just laughing again. She slid further back into his car so that her knees were hugging the lip of the trunk. “I think it’s only fair that I get to know your name after everything that I put you through,” she explained easily. She was so warm, like freshly baked bread or pancakes directly off of the griddle. She had just been through something so deeply traumatizing and yet the kindness and compassion that she seemed to carry with her came off of her in waves.

“You didn’t put me through anything,” Wylan shook his head. “I could have just kept walking or gone into the bar to get one of the bouncers to help you if I didn’t want to deal with it. I wanted to help. I know what it’s like to be on the receiving end of some guy’s anger.”

Worry took over her pretty features for a moment before she winced and placed her hand up on her face where she had been struck. “So does that mean that I get to know your name or are you going to be the handsome stranger that saved me for the rest of my life.”

For some reason, he didn’t feel panicky or strange when she called him handsome the way that he had when other woman had done the same thing. It made him feel bashful and excited the same way that he did when Inej called him that, like she was complimenting him objectively instead of seeing someone that she could possibly romance. It was a different feeling than when his boys complimented him, which made fire run through his veins and excitement flip his stomach. “Wylan,” he supplied after he realized that he hadn’t answered her again.

Her face fell and her eyes widened. For a moment he was worried that she was going to puke or that he had missed a pivotal sign of concussion despite her not acting like she was dizzy or nauseous before. Then she asked, “Hendriks?”

He nodded, “How did you know?”

She sighed and slumped against the side of his car, her head resting against the rubber insulation on the side that wasn’t already swelling with injury. “My name is Nina Zenik. You and I were supposed to meet tomorrow so that Jesper and Matthias could introduce me to you.”

“Oh!” he gasped. Relief washed over him as he realized just how much of a good thing it was that he had interrupted the fight instead of minding his own business. Sticking his nose where it didn’t belong had actually resulted in him getting a lot of good things in life, which is why he had made such a massive habit out of it despite the way it had treated him in childhood. “I thought that you looked a little bit familiar.”

She righted herself, squaring her shoulders dramatically before she stuck her hand out in front of her. Wylan took it and gave her a shake like she had been asking for as she said, “It’s good to meet you.”

“You as well,” he laughed. “Now, do you want me to take you back to your apartment?”

Nina deflated again. Her eyes glanced back towards the parking lot that they had come from. She took a moment before she finally, cautiously answered, “I don’t think that I can go home. Ivan and Fedyor both know where I live and where I keep my spare key. I’ve been trying to find a new place to move it but I haven’t quite figured it out yet so there’s a chance…”

“Do you have a friend that you want to stay with?” he asked instead, not judging her in the slightest for not wanting to go home. Wylan himself had struggled with panic attacks for the first week that he had been living in his family estate after he had inherited it. Matthias and Jesper had spent every waking moment that they weren’t working or spending time with their other partners helping him remodel the house so it felt more like his home and less like his prison. If she felt at all unsafe in her apartment then there was no way that he was going to pressure her to go back, especially since he understood that feeling.

A small blush joined the makeup on her cheeks, which only served to highlight the freckles brushed across her nose and ears. “I would suggest that you bring me to Matthias and Jesper if you hadn’t already told me that you were their partner.”

“I can bring you back to the house,” Wylan immediately replied. Just the idea of doing so already soothed a lot of the anxiety that had been brewing in his gut. He was worried that the second she was out of his sight something horrible was going to happen to her, like it had been before he arrived. It was a lot less creepy to suggest that he take her back to his home when he knew that she was already very familiar and comfortable around two of his partners, so he was grateful that they had learned that fact about each other that early into their interaction.

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to intrude or anything, I know that the five of you live together,” she touched the edge of her mascara where it was still smearing with blood. 

He offered her a shy smile as he reached into the first aid kit that he kept in the back of his car. “Well I actually own the house, so I’m technically the one that gets to decide who does and does not get to go inside of it. Step mother? Proably not. The woman that two of my boyfriends have been going out with that just got hurt? Absolutely.”

She laughed, more of the tension beginning to melt from her. It was clear that she was beginning to come down from the adrenaline rush that the fight had brought her, the exhaustion hanging off of her. Wylan wanted to get some of her wounds cleaned up in the car before they had the actual first aide expert look her over. 

Finally finding what he had been searching for, he handed her a wet wipe and asked, “Do you need to go to the ER or do you feel comfortable coming back to my place?”

“It’s going to sound so silly,” she mumbled as she picked at the edge of the wipe’s packaging.

“I don’t think anything you say when you’re going through shock is going to sound silly,” he assured her. It was a bold move from a very unbold person, but he touched her arm to try and emphasize what he had said with actions.

She leaned easily into the touch as she collected her thoughts. She then said, “All I can think about is seeing Matthias and Jesper. I know we haven’t been together for nearly as long as you have, but they’re the best thing that has happened to me in a long while.”

“Not your band getting back together?” Wylan asked.

She shook her head and then winced. She unwrapped the wet wipe and then tenderly brought it up to her face. Nina was only able to get some of the blood off of her skin, a decent amount of it already congealing and making it monumentally harder to do what she needed to.

Carefully, he pried the item from her hand and then began to patiently rub it over her skin to clear away the blood. She scrunched her nose and took in a sharp inhale when he got closer to the cuts. He couldn’t see any shards of glass so far, but he wasn’t trying to clean out the wounds, but rather make her more comfortable until he could actually tend to them properly.

While he was cleaning she explained, “My band getting back together has been messy, as you saw with my fight with Ivan. I was partially signed to the label owned by a really famous artist and when I started refusing to produce music under the contract I got in a lot of trouble. They stole a shit ton of money from me but I made it work. They didn’t really like that and so now I’m on the shit list for the rest of my life.”

“If that was anything to go by then I can see that,” Wylan murmured. He got the gauze out of the first aid kit and then wound it around his hand until it made a thick pad. He slipped it off of his nimble fingers and pressed it to the cuts on her face before they had the chance to continue bleeding. “Do you want to do the rest of the cleaning and tending back at the house?”

“Yes,” she nodded immediately. “As comfortable as the back of your car is, I would much rather have somewhere that has soap and running water.”

He held his hand out to help her steady herself as she stood back up properly. She was holding the gauze to her face with one hand and moving around the edge of the car with the other. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, the asphalt making up the parking lot had to be painful on her stockinged feet.

While she was moving, he packed up the first aid kit again and then shoved everything properly into his trunk. He clicked the light off and shut the hatch before he went to the driver’s side and got in. He turned the car on so that the heater was running and hopefully helping to warm her up since the night was a little bitter and she didn’t have a coat.

“I’m going to text the others to tell them what happened before we get going, is that okay?” Wylan asked as he motioned to his phone with his other hand.

She nodded her consent and he got to work. He opened up the group chat that he had with his partners and then held the phone up to his mouth. He spoke clearly and deliberately so that the speech-to-text program could actually write down what he wanted to say. “I’m sorry for being home so late from work, but I found Nina in a fight with someone. She’s doing mostly okay but I’m going to bring her back to the house so that we can help her. Be home soon, love you.”

He glanced at her, a bit sheepish as he sent the message off to his partners. He connected his phone to the car’s computer and opened Spotify so that he could pick some music as a social lubricant. He felt comfortable with silences, even relished in them at times, but he had been dating Jesper for long enough to know that other people felt pressured to talk when everything else was quiet. Music usually stamped that down at least a little, made silences between acquaintances more comfortable and soothed anxieties.

He had four pinned playlists other than his liked songs up at the top, each with a combination of his name with one of his partner’s. It was something cute that they had done with each other, making a playlist where they could send messages to the other, give music suggestions, or just generally be sappy. It worked best with Kaz, who loved them very, very, very much but had trouble being able to express that physically on some days.

Wylan had been thinking about Inej a lot since he had gotten Nina back to his car, a lot of the feelings he had for her recurring in his chest. Of course the emotions were nowhere near as strong as they were for Inej since he had known her longer, but they were still there. He had only ever felt the warm giddiness pooling in his chest for one other woman before, and it was the one that he was queerplatonically dating. He was going to have to take a moment to process that when he was no longer feeling quite so sleepy and frazzled. 

He finally settled on the one that he and Matthias had made for each other, setting it to shuffle before he deposited it down onto the center console. His phone lit up with a couple of texts from his partners but he was unable to read what they said or who had sent them. The only way that he had been able to parse through his playlists was because the covers had been very unique, for the express purpose of helping him when he was struggling with reading. The combination of him overworking himself earlier that day and the adrenaline made the words swim in front of him whenever he tried.

Once his bag was deposited into the back and Nina was buckled in, he pulled out of the parking lot and began the drive back to his home. He lived on the very outskirts of the city so it was going to take them a while to get there despite the ten o’clock traffic being so light that outside of the center of town, there was no one.

He had been right to start music for the drive. Nina didn’t seem to be up to doing much talking, simply holding the gauze to her forehead and switching hands when one got tired. Wylan made sure to check on her every so often by glancing in her direction, admiring how cinematic she looked when the streetlights were bathing her in soft yellow and red light.

The ride had been going smooth until they got about ten minutes away from the estate. A new song that Matthias had added came onto the radio, and it just so happened to be one of the ones that her band had produced. Wylan had been informed that it was Nina singing since those songs all happened to be Matthias’ and Jesper’s favorites, not that they were biased, but it was also deeply personal to him. He couldn’t relate to every line that was said, but it was so reminiscent of the way that he had grown up and how he would raise children if he and his partners ever decided to have them.

The sultry voice murmured out of the radio as he reached down to change the song. Before he got the chance, Nina’s hand landed on top of his and stopped him from doing so. She gave him a kind smile as she began to sing along, matching the notes perfectly since it was her.

“Marrow made a wife of Eve, but no one gave up a rib for me and mine. My hearts did expose to the elements, calloused and untouched by a man's design. Oh, my ugly organs, how lucky we are. Brick and mortar between my bones, built a kingdom fierce and fortified. My name fading from the yellow page, stones are laid upon the mountainside Oh, my savage empire, ow lucky we are, never to be moved by the words of a liar. The dark doesn't frighten me, I chose to close my eyes. It is mine, it is mine. The night doesn't frighten me, I chose to let it thrive. It is mine, it is mine. Time has changed the metaphor. Now, dust is not the origin of bone Little girl, don't let them sell you any armor, all your ribs are still your own. Oh, my precious child, how lucky you are, handed down a shield for your tender parts.”

By the time that they had reached the end repetition of the chorus, Wylan had joined her in singing the song. It felt cathartic to be able to sing it out loud when usually he was too shy to do so. The song was raw in a way that many things rarely were any more, which was only part of the reason that he adored it so much. 

Nina hadn’t removed her hand from where she had stopped him from changing the song. Instead, their hands lay on the center console. Their palms were pressed flush and their fingers slotted together without interweaving. It felt right and gentle, not forward despite them having only known each other for half an hour.

When the song finished, she took a deep breath. “I wrote that song immediately after I left The Fold. So many of my emotions went into it and it was so personal, I wanted to produce it under my other name. It fit better with Shadow and Bone than it did with Heartrender, though, and the band agreed that they’d be okay with producing it.”

“Is it about everything that happened under that label?” Wylan asked, his eyes darting towards her for just a moment. He was worried that he was asking something that was too personal or prying into a wound that hadn’t healed yet. 

She didn’t seem to mind as she gave him another affirmative hum. “It was also based off of some of the things that happened when I was young. I knew Alina, one of my bandmates, when we were both fifteen. We went to that huge Catholic school, the one that everyone else calls the Little Palace because the chapel attached to it makes it look kind of like a castle. We were both so sheltered and we had all that religious drivel drilled into us so hard. It made me feel so guilty for being able to love women as well, but it also opened us up to some pretty nasty older men. I was able to avoid it from the romantic side, but when Kirigan approached us and promised us the fame and fortune that we had been dreaming of, there was no way that we could reject it. We signed with him and things got worse for her but they eventually got better for me. We’re both okay now, but that song…”

“I relate to it too,” Wylan gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. “My dad was shit and my mom was always telling me that I had to find armor wherever I could find it. She left when I was eight and then she couldn’t be my armor anymore, so I had to find it in other things. There was no one there to protect me,” he shook his head as the memories all came pouring back.

Nina took in a deep breath and cleared her throat. “That’s enough hard stuff for tonight! We should talk about something else.”

“Yes,” Wylan nodded in agreement. His face then brightened as he turned onto the street that would lead him to his home, “Have you had the chance to meet Trassel yet?”

“I haven’t! Matthias was going to bring him to a date that we were supposed to have in a park but then we got that horrible thunderstorm and had to change to a cafe, which meant no dog,” she pouted. 

“Well you’re about to meet him. I want to warn you that in pictures he looks a lot smaller than he actually is because Matthias is massive. He’s absolutely sweet but can be kind of scary if you were expecting a dog closer to the size of a lab,” Wylan informed her. He had a bad reaction when he first met Trassel because of the sheer massive size of the dog, despite Trassel being the sweetest animal that he had ever had the fortune of living with.

They pulled into the driveway and then the garage. He noticed that Kaz’s car was gone, but the one that Matthias and Jesper shared was parked dutifully in the spot on the other side of the garage. “I knew that it had to be a big place for you to all live together but I wasn’t expecting it to be this huge,” Nina commented as she carefully got out of the car.

“We’re not secretly rich or something, this was the only thing that I inherited from my dad when he died,” Wylan explained as he grabbed his bag and phone. He got out and locked the vehicle. 

A smile pulled at his lips as he could already hear the deep barking from inside the house where his pet had heard the garage door opening. Trassel was smart enough to know that meant someone was coming home and he adored them all so much that it didn’t matter which one of them it was.

Wylan walked over to Nina and brought her to the steps that led to the backdoor of the house instead of the ones that led to the dog run in the sideyard. It had been a massive undertaking for the rest of his partners to get used to the size of the estate when they had finally moved in. The only reason that Wylan had been an exception to that was because he had grown accustomed to every nook and cranny of the place while hiding from his father and private tutor.

They stepped over the threshold and into the kitchen just as Trassel finished barreling down the stairs that led up to the bedrooms. The space that they were in was massive, but felt more snug than it had in Wylan’s childhood because of the details that his partners had helped him add to the space to make it his own. The tile was white and black diamonds that went halfway up the walls. They had recently painted the kitchen to be a butter yellow color, with red curtains hanging and drawn over the windows. All of the appliances had been updated within the last couple of the years but were also the ugliest stainless steal. The fridge was the best part, now covered in little magnets and sticky note reminders for each of them. Art hung around the cupboards, which were a rainbow set of colors in the most obnoxiously bright yet not neon colors that they could find. Every surface other than the counters was also cluttered with aloe vera and spider plants, which Inej had brought from her apartment when she had moved in. 

“Hi puppy!” Wylan beamed as he patted his lap to call the dog over to him. He knew that Nina would likely need a second or two so that she could become accustomed to the new space that she was in.

Trassel barked excitedly as he immediately ran over to Wylan. He was massive even for a utonagan, coming up to the Wylan’s waist with all four paws down on the ground. He was also about a hundred and ten pounds, most of which appeared to be fur as they got closer to the winter months. He was beautiful shade of brown-black with the white clinging to his chest and the underside of his muzzle. It would likely spread as he continued to get older, but at only five years old he had retained all of the luscious color he had been born with.

“Have you been good today?” Wylan asked as he began to run his fingers through the side of the dog’s face. The fur around the top of Trassel’s head was his favorite, soft and already brushed back so it didn’t hang in front of his eyes or nose. 

He received another bark as the dog’s excitement rose. When Trassel got so overwhelmed that he placed his hands onto Wylan’s chest to get closer to his face, Wylan reached down and took his hands. It stressed his hips enough that he calmed down, so Wylan let him go as soon as he had calmed.

When he saw Nina he barked again and rushed over to her. She knelt down in front of him as she dug her hands into his fur and began to baby talk him. “Hello there, hello! I bet I smell like all kind of interesting and same things, don’t I? You’re so handsome, so handsome,” she murmured.

The meeting was cut short as they were reminded why they were there in the first place. Matthias walked down the hall with Inej and Jesper hot on his heels. “Nina?” he called out, his voice more accented than it was normally, which just illustrated how stressed out he was.

“Hey,” she breathed as she rose to her feet. Matthias was by her side in an instant, peeling back the gauze that was just barely soaked with enough blood that it was sticking to the wounds on its own.

Trassel was wuffling and barking to be played with, so Jesper grabbed him under the collar and led him to the back door. “Go run,” he instructed with a firm point to the space that they had for him. He listened and rushed outside so that he could complete his course and get a prize. As soon as the dog had been taken care of, Jesper rushed back to his girlfriend to check on her. “What happened?”

“I was attacked by an old friend of mine’s husband. He was drunk,” Nina explained. She winced as Matthias reached up and peeled the gauze away. It broke some of the scabs that had begun to form there and restarted some of the bleeding.

“Here, why don’t we move to the bathroom to get you cleaned up,” Inej said. She swatted Matthias hand so that he would leave the wounds alone until she could take care of them herself. Matthias did know a decent amount of first aid and wouldn’t make anything horrendously worse, but he wasn’t as knowledgeable as her.

The group moved through the house until they were upstairs in the master bath. While they were walking, the shorter of the two women said, “My name is Inej. You probably guessed that since I’m the only feminine presenting person here that could be called girlfriend,” she chuckled.

“Nina Zenik,” the other replied. “You’re about to go on some sort of tour, aren’t you?”

“I have a couple of shows in Vegas that I’m doing this week,” she nodded. “I was cuddling with the boys while waiting for Wylan to get home when we got his message. I’m the one that knows first aid the best so I got up to help you. It’s wonderful to meet you, Nina, even if I wish it was under better circumstances.”

“At least we got to bring it forward?” she offered with a light laugh. 

The master bathroom was huge, so it was no trouble for the five of them to get inside. Matthias took up the spot on the edge of the tub where he could see all of his partners. Wylan and Jesper stood near the shower part of the room, leaning heavily against the gray colored glass with their fingers interwoven between them. Nina was sat down on the counter space between the two sinks while Inej spread out the things that she would need to check and clean the wounds around them. “How did you get these?” she asked as she turned Nina’s face to the side to get a better look at them.

“Ivan broke a beer bottle above my head and some of the glass got on me,” she said. “I think that they’re mostly just weeping so much because they’re on my face, they don’t feel all that deep.”

“They’re not,” the other woman answered. She got a wet cloth with some antibiotic soap and then carefully began to drag it across the wounds. Nina winced and let out a little whimper, holding her hand out towards Matthias. He was there in a second, threading their fingers together so that she could focus on something other than the pain of having her wounds checked.

Once they were cleaned, Inej put some cream on them that would help fight any leftover bacteria and numb the area to dull the pain. “Do you have any allergies?” she asked as she fished through the pile of band aides. Kaz had topical allergies, bursting into hives whenever he had an adhesive that less than medical grade on his skin.

“No,” Nina replied. “Nothing that you’d have in that kit, anyway.”

Inej plucked one of the larger plasters from the pile and then opened it up. She set it over the biggest of the cuts and then used two smaller bandaids for the others until everything was covered. “I don’t think that there’s anything I can do for that bruise, other than this,” she supplied a small jar containing a balm. “It will sting really bad and it smells quite strong, but it helps aide the healing process.”

Nina glanced towards Wylan and he gave her a confident, reassuring nod. The balm that Inej had was a godsend for sore muscles, which he and Kaz often got. “Alright,” Nina agreed with a little nod. Matthias brought his hand to the side of her head that wasn’t being tended to, running his long fingers through her thick hair as he pressed a kiss to her temple.

Inej’s skilled, calloused fingers dipped into the balm and then began to carefully and evenly spread it across the darkened area on Nina’s face. When she finished, she wiped her hands off on a baby wipe and offered Nina a makeup remover wipe. “If you’re going to be staying here tonight then I think you’d like to be comfortable.”

“Yes, thank you,” she replied as she took the offered object. Inej cleaned up the rest of the scraps before she ushered the other two boys out of the room. Wylan and Jesper hung in the background long enough to hear them making plans about clothing and where she might sleep.

Eventually, Wylan tugged his boyfriend down to the kitchen so that he could cook something. Eating always settled their nerves and made them feel better, especially since they had both been rather food insecure at one point in their lives. Jesper jumped up onto the island counter in the center of the room, folding his legs underneath him to make balancing easier while watching Wylan working. “So what happened?”

“Well, I got lost in my work, which is why I was late coming home,” he winced. He had forgotten to properly apologize for that and bringing it up had reminded both of them that it had happened in the first place. He set down the tortillas and cheese that he had gotten out of the fridge as he walked over to Jesper. He wrapped his arms around the other man’s waist to bring them closer together, knocking their foreheads together softly. “I’m sorry for not texting you as soon as I realized what time it was and for losing track of time. I know you worry about us when we go silent.”

“Inej had to talk me down like four times. I was a second away from texting Nina to get reassurance that you were alright and she doesn’t know anything about that particular issue yet,” Jesper mumbled. He was pouting slightly but there was real hurt behind his words.

“I’m sorry,” Wylan apologized again. He brushed their lips together in a sweet yet chaste kiss to accent the words with something positive.

It worked and the anger immediately drained from Jesper. “I know. I just worry that something bad has happened to you guys when you don’t respond like that. Like with my mom…”

“I love you,” Wylan whispered as he brought their lips together for another sweet kiss. Jesper’s mom was a sensitive topic that would result in a lot of feelings about his own mother, feelings that Wylan wasn’t quite emotionally prepared to look into that night. 

“I love you, too, baby,” he mumbled as he held the side of Wylan’s face.

Neither of them had been able to clock the sound of the garage opening and shutting over Trassel’s barking from the backyard. They lived far enough away from the city that sometimes he found deer and foxes out past the fence that he wanted to talk big game about but could never dream of ever getting to, so they tuned out the sound of his barking at that tempo. They both realized what he had been barking at when the door to the garage shut and Kaz said, “I thought that we had agreed no food was to be left out on the counter.”

Wylan broke away from his boyfriend and then flushed when he realized that he had been caught. They were supposed to make sure that anything that wasn’t actively being eaten or used was put away to make sure that their mischievous puppy didn’t devour it and make himself sick. “I’m sorry, I was supposed to be cooking something for myself since I missed dinner but then Jesper and I got talking and that led to…” he trailed off and felt his face flush harder. “Sorry.”

Clearing his throat loudly to get the attention on himself, Jesper jumped off of the counter and stuffed the food back into the fridge. “That is enough apologizing from Wylan! We don’t want our sweet boy thinking that he has done all the wrong in the world, after all,” he grinned as he wrapped his arms around the aforementioned man’s waist.

“Jesper,” he complained as he was bombarded with kisses. He knew that part of it was actual adoration for him and the other part was the actor trying to make sure that his anxiety didn’t overwhelm him. When it was clear that Jesper wasn’t going to stop anytime soon, Wylan turned to face their boyfriend, “You’re home early. Is everything okay?”

“It was a slow night and I thought that you would all be able to use me here more,” he replied. “Also, I got you all something to eat.”

He placed the bags of food down on the table and Wylan felt his heart sing. It was hard for Kaz to show love in the same way that Jesper did, but his actions meant so much in their relationship. “Thank you,” he breathed as he tried not to cry from how overwhelmed he felt.

“You’re alright,” Kaz reminded him gently as he brought their lips together in a very chaste kiss. That was all that Wylan was going to be able to get from his partner after work. Even if the Crow Club had only a dozen patrons, the amount of strangers that he had to be around when he was working often overwhelmed Kaz to the point where he didn’t feel safe being touched unless he instigated it. He had updated the group chat when he had been in the office for half an hour, which Wylan had seen just before he realized what time it was.

They moved to the living room with the food and an extra set of paper towels. The living room was their biggest work in progress yet since it had been a formal parlor before they had moved in. They were slowly replacing all of the hyper modern furniture with the more vintage pieces that they preferred, which meant that seating was a little bit sparse at the moment. The most modern piece that they had left in the room was the sectional that could transform into a big enough space for all five of them to cuddle together when they wanted to. The TV stand was pulled straight out of the sixties, reshaped by Matthias and Jesper so that it could actually fit their flat screen in the middle of display case. The rug and coffee table had been picked out by Inej, both of them reminiscent of how her house had been decorated before her parents’ accident.

The trio settled in to eat what Kaz had picked up for them, Wylan and Jesper both sitting on the ground with their backs pressed to the couch while Kaz sat in the armchair that he had gotten to help with his pain before they had even moved in. Other than his clothes, it was the only thing from his old apartment above the Crow Club that he had brought with him.

About fifteen minutes later they heard some of their partners coming down the stairs and turned the TV off. Nina was walking hand-in-hand with Matthias, wearing a pair of Jesper’s sweatpants and one of Matthias’ shirts since everyone else had a vastly different body shape compared to her. 

“Hey baby,” Jesper said as he moved onto the couch. She smiled, trying to hold back tears as she trekked over to him. She collapsed down onto the couch, her legs pulled up near his chest and her head immediately on his shoulder. He moved his arm around her back and pressed a kiss over the top of the band aids on her forehead. “How are you doing?”

“I’m tired and scared,” she mumbled. “Glad that it was Wylan that helped me, though.”

“Yeah, he is pretty great like that,” Matthias replied. He stooped down and kissed Wylan within an inch of his life. “Thank you for being such an amazing, kindhearted person, min brandstifter.”

“That was one time,” he muttered, his cheeks turning a dark red color with embarrassment.

Inej sat herself down in his lap and stole a couple of his fries. He didn’t mind, since she indulged in processed foods so rarely that she deserved a treat. “It’s fun to tease you.”

He buried his face into her shoulder, which he knew was why she had sat down on him like she had. “Fun for you, maybe.”

Nina laughed, which was a great sound to hear with how clearly worn out she was. The energy in the room got a lot more somber when Jesper asked her once again what had happened. She recounted some elements from her past like she had for Wylan in the car, still refusing to let herself cry. She cuddled in between her boyfriends like they were going to be able to save her from her own bad feelings, something that Wylan remembered doing vividly after he got the news that his father had died.

She finished telling her story and they all agreed to watch something calm to wind down before bed. Wylan finished his food and then gave Inej a sweet kiss on the cheek before he dumped her down onto the couch next to Kaz. He made sure that there was enough space between them that they wouldn’t accidentally crash together. “I’m going to go shower, I know you’ll all probably be in bed by the time I get back,” he sighed. He was both glad and upset that he had gotten off work so late.

“We’ll see you in the morning,” Matthias promised as he tenderly kissed his boyfriend. Jesper mimicked the movement as well before settling in next to Nina. 

“I can give you a kiss if you want, but what I really want to do is say thank you,” she replied, witty and sharp-tongued even in her exhaustion.

“I would have done it even if you weren’t dating two of my partners,” he replied as he fought back another blush. The only thing that Kaz was able to do was give his hand a squeeze through the thick leather of his gloves, which Wylan was okay with. 

He disappeared up the stairs as exhaustion sunk low into his veins. A lot had happened in one night, but the net effect seemed to be good overall. Nina fit right into their flock like she had been there from the beginning.

[incorrectshantaequotes]

A Quick Christmas Sneak Peak

Hey, remember that fic preview I mentioned yesterday? Well...here's the scene immediately after the opening scene! This is partially because of one particular spoiler that will become clear as you read on, and partially because...my brain has a better idea of how this scene goes and I wanted to get it done first.

Rottytops was familiar with being on the receiving end of explosions, a fact that she imagined wouldn't be too surprising to anyone who knew her. From mornings where her brothers had dragged her out of bed to witness a half-baked idea for a spell in a coffee-deprived haze, to some of her more elaborate pranks blowing up in her face, to one particularly memorable occasion where she hadn't watched her steps at Ammo Baron's most recent lair at the time and stepped on a landmine. Shantae fussed a LOT over her after that last one, much to her delight. The point was, Rottytops was familiar with explosions, much more than the average human - maybe even more than the average zombie, even. That did not make it hurt any less when the spell she'd been preparing violently burst in a flash of pink, white, and purple, throwing her back and slamming her body into the wall at mach speeds.

"Owwwwwww..." Rottytops groaned, slumping as gravity took hold and plopped her body down to the floor. She rubbed the back of her head with a wince, suddenly feeling a belated relief that she'd had some form of head protection. Not a hard hat, sure, but the full-blown hazmat suit had to count for something, right? ...Right? "Looking on the bright side, might have given myself an early Christmas present - a concussion! Yippeeeeeeeeeeeeeee..."

She trailed off, looking towards the ceiling, and let out a quiet sigh. She would've made to rub her temples, but unfortunately all that would've done in her current outfit is smudge the glass. This was...not the best result, but in hindsight, not unexpected. All her work in dark magic didn't really help her that much with the regular stuff, and, well. It probably would've helped immensely if she had, y'know, a half-genie to help with her spell involving the Genie Realm, but the only one available right now was Shantae, and that'd ruin the surprise! Maybe it wasn't the best idea to immediately shoot for the moon, but dang it, she'd wanted to get something special for their first Christmas as a couple!

...of course, if Shantae were here, she'd probably say something about how she shouldn't be so hard on herself and that there was always next Christmas, and just by thinking that she could almost hear the imaginary pep talk from her girlfriend. The image made her snort a little and an affectionate smile crossed her lips, Rottytops shaking her head as she pulled herself off the floor and dusted herself off. Brain Shantae had a point; no point in sitting around feeling sorry for herself! Even if her initial attempt hadn't gone well, she still had time - she could try again, or just be satisfied with the half-dozen gifts she'd gotten Shantae already and make a note to get the other half-genies over in Scuttle Town next year so she could do this properly. She almost began to hum a little as she stretched and began to move to do just that, but any music was caught in her throat as she looked at the epicenter of her spell and saw that she wasn't alone.

And though the smoke hadn't quite cleared out yet, there was one unmistakable feature that she couldn't have possibly missed - the distinct, pointed ears.

The zombie girl froze in her tracks, mind racing with the implications and running the math to come to a few conclusions. Her first, near-immediate conclusion, was wow; considering her spell was supposed to let her into the Genie Realm, bringing a genie over here was one hell of a backfire (and a prime example of why magic freaked her out. yeah, rich coming from the zombie dabbling in the dark arts, but at least dark magic had consistent results and didn't change because the magic felt like it). The second, much-more concerning conclusion, was oh no, is she okay? Now, admittedly, Rottytops wasn't an expert on how genies fared outside of the Genie Realm, but she DID remember when Shantae recounted those Genies she met on her first adventure and how rough they'd looked by the time she'd come around and gotten them out of those weird cages. Granted, at least some of that was absolutely because of the cage thing, if not all of it, but Rottytops felt the need to double check because Shantae definitely would've throttled her if she didn't.

Hesitantly, and as quietly as she could, Rottytops took a few steps towards the prone figure. She silently debated the best way to ask if anything was broken, or if she had some sort of weird allergy to the air or something, but before she could figure it out her train of thought was cut off by the sound of boisterous laughter. She sounded...warm. Energetic. Somewhat manic, with the sort of feral energy Rotty only really expected from, well, herself, but equally present was the sheer sense of RELIEF. As if a great weight had just been lifted from the genie's shoulders, and she couldn't help but laugh at the freedom she'd been given. Faster than she could blink, the genie turned and lunged at Rotty, nearly knocking her over with the impact and pulling her into a tight hug that had the zombie suddenly much more concerned about her bones than she'd ever been in her life.

"Thank you!" With that, the genie woman pulled back, and Rotty was finally able to get a good look at her. The first thing she noticed was her eyes - for the most part, they looked close to human, but what set her apart was how the eyes seemed to glow with a vibrant purple that shifted hues even as she stared in awe. In the back of her mind, some part of her noted that the purple, in all its hues, matched Shantae's magic perfectly, best illustrated with the puff of smoke that always accompanied her transformations. She had purple hair to match - again, the same shade as Shantae's hair - done in a messy bobcut that left most of her face clear, and a warm tone to her skin that reminded her of polished wood...again, the exact same shade as Shantae's. Huh.

"It's been a while since I've been in this old thing," the genie remarked to herself, poking her arm with an undisguised fascination and turning her body this way and that to get a better look at herself. She didn't have much height to her - actually an inch or two shorter than Shantae - but she more than made up for that by being built like a tank. Rottytops had thought Harmony was built like an amazon, but this lady had her beat by a MILE, and her outfit definitely showed that off: a bright purple leotard that covered most of her torso but left her shoulders and back exposed, along with a set of black leather boots and gloves with a trim of purple fur and a brown belt decorated with bits of fur, feathers, and scales. There was a bit of pudge here and there, bringing to mind a mother who hadn't quite burned off all the baby fat, but she wore it incredibly well in all honesty.

And, well. Rottytops didn't want to assume or anything. Shantae didn't exactly have any picture to use for a reference, and it was a bit of a wild leap in logic when there were a dozen genies she could have picked up. But, considering all the very notable similarities, she had a nagging suspicion she knew who this was, even if not by name, and honestly she wasn't sure if that made this whole mess better or worse.

"...honestly, I'd thought it'd be a lot longer before I'd be able to use it, too," Rottytops' musings were cut off by the genie in question staring at her arm, her energy dying down for a moment to give way to a quiet wonder. Then, she snorted, and gave a sharp grin with a lot more fangs than any human would ever have. "Ha, and they can't even say I'm doing anything wrong here! Sure, I may not be complaining about the results, but it'll be clear that this was an accident on both fronts-"

"Both fronts?" Rottytops cut her off, raising a questioning eyebrow and mentally shoving the rest of that sentence off into a mental box somewhere to ask later. Far too much to unpack with that. The genie turned to Rottytops at her questioning, her expression turning slightly sheepish in a way that, again, Rottytops couldn't help but find familiar.

"...ah, right. So I maaaaaaaay have interfered with your spell a bit? And before you say anything," The genie raised a hand with a suddenly stern expression, cutting off the wave of incredulous anger in Rottytops before it could even start. "As a being made entirely of magic, trust me when I say that if I hadn't interfered, the magical blowback would have been a LOT worse. I wasn't just going to let you take that, not when you're so close to..."

The genie trailed off, shaking her head. "What am I doing? I know it's been a while since I've been down here, but that's hardly long enough to forget my manners!"

With that, the genie stepped forward and grabbed Rottytops' hand, giving it a firm shake that jerked Rottytops down with the strength behind it. "Call me Mena! And you're Rottytops, right?"

Almost immediately, all other thoughts fled the zombie's head as she stared at the genie - Mena - with wide eyes. "I-Whuh-huh? How'd you know that?"

"We may not be able to do much in the Genie Realm, but we can watch your world, and, well..." Mena shot Rottytops a grin. "I made a point to remember the names of all my daughter's friends."

Rottytops could feel her heart soar with that one sentence alone. It probably wasn't the most important thing to focus on in the moment, considering how Mena all but directly confirmed she was Shantae's mom and that definitely made this a lot more complicated, but Rottytops couldn't bring herself to care about that stuff right then. All that she could think about was that Shantae's mom knew who she was, by name even, probably knew of Rottytops' more...questionable deeds, and yet in spite of that she not only acknowledged Shantae and Rottytops' relationship, but cared enough to actively save Rottytops' life from the sounds of what she said earlier. It was very pleasant to know, considering she had been a bit anxious about meeting her in the Genie Realm beforehand, and Rottytops found herself so caught up in the pleasantness of it all that she didn't think twice before mentioning, "It's girlfriend, actually."

Then, she promptly froze, a newfound dread filling Rottytops at the confession as she realized that Mena might not have known that, and she quickly looked down to see the genie's reaction. Thankfully, she quickly found herself relieved by how Mena's eyes glittered with delight. "Oh, you made it official? I must have missed that - congratulations, you two!"

She slung an arm over Rottytops' shoulder, grinning with clear pride. "I'll have you know, I was rooting for you both, even with your stumbling blocks. I'm sure you've realized that being officially together doesn't make the road ahead any easier, but I think I can confidently say that it's all been well worth it! It's definitely been something seeing that from the other side, at least..."

That last bit was said in a whisper, getting Rotty to raise an eyebrow and let a sly grin spread over her features. "Oh? What was that? Am I hearing that the dense skull is genetic?"

"...well, I wish I could say otherwise, but...you should ask Mimic about it, he'd tell it better than I could," Mena chuckled, shaking her head. "Let's just say that I'm sure he's glad you two managed to figure it out before her father and I did, considering he had to lock us in a closet to get our heads straight."

"Oh, that's hilarious!" Rottytops cackled, already having a bunch of different images in her head and making a mental note to definitely ask Mimic about that story later. As she took a moment to calm down, she then remembered that she never did answer the question she'd initially approached Mena with, and took a moment to straighten herself up before clearing her throat. "Now, I hope you don't mind a slight change of topic, but, um...are you good? Like, physically speaking? Any aches or allergies or whatever?"

"Hmmm..." Mena took a moment to ponder Rotty's question, and almost unconsciously her hand drifted to a large scar that ran over her right shoulder. Rotty could just about see the edges of a similar one peeking out behind her heck and just over her other shoulder, and considering the size and shape she had a very good suspicion as to what caused it, but decidedly didn't ask. "It is a bit sore around this old wound here, admittedly, but I'll gladly take that. If it were up to me, I wouldn't head back to the Genie Realm at all, but..."

"Ahhhhhhh," Rottytops nodded in understanding. "Obligations back home?"

"...something like that," A bitter scowl crossed the genie's face, and she briefly turned away from her audience, muttering something about councils and stupid lack of flammable buildings and a few impressive curses that had Rottytops' eyebrows both shoot up to her hairline. She was definitely going to have to unpack that later, but for now, she stayed silent as Mena turned her attention back to her, letting out a deep sigh. "While we're asking questions, there is ONE I feel like I should get out of the way. I don't watch everything that goes down in my daughter's life, and I'm not a mind-reader, after all."

"Oh? Well, ask away. Floor's yours," Rottytops nodded with a wave of her hand, idly leaning against a wall as she silently wondered what kind of questions she had to ask.

"Right. So...what, exactly, did you want to go into the Genie Realm for?" Mena asked, not really accusatory so much as curious, looking at Rottytops expectantly. That didn't stop Rotty from wincing. This...might not be particularly pleasant, depending on what Mena did or didn't know.

"...so, uh. I was actually planning on running into you, believe it or not? And then getting you to write a letter," Rottytops began, silently cursing as Mena nodded and motioned for her to continue. "Had to do a bunch of research, a lot of which consisted of hanging around snackcakes so I wasn't complaining. I maaaaaaaay have looked through that scrapbook a bit, too-"

"Ah. And I'm guessing you found the section regarding genie biology and dark magic when you did that?" Mena interrupted, to which Rottytops slowly nodded. The genie relaxed a little, giving her a gentle smile. "I was wondering what that hazmat suit was for."

"...yeah, I...didn't really want to take any chances after reading that? Definitely explained that whole Dynamo thing from a while ago," Rottytops admitted. Honestly, it'd been a bit disturbing when she read about how genies had next to no natural resistances to the effects of dark magic. It made sense, sure - genies were entirely made of magic, of course there weren't any barriers for the physical and psychological effects of the stuff, but that didn't stop her from cringing a bit when she imagined it. After all, the reason she and her brothers were able to handle dark magic so well was because they, and just about every other zombie, were well-acquainted with the dangers of it. For all the stuff brought them back from the dead, it sure didn't care about leaving their bodies intact; the reason half the civilized zombie population had a crippling coffee addiction was because it was one of the most effective ways of making sure the dark magic in their systems didn't eat away at their brains and leave them a shambling, moaning husk. And that was with the restriction of a physical body. Knowing that genies had nothing for that...

"Well, you'll be happy to know that there's no need to worry - you're a closed system. You'd only have to worry about hurting me if you were slinging spells around, and the only way for the mental effects of the stuff to kick in is if a genie was using dark magic herself or with a machine like the Dynamo," Mena pat the zombie on the shoulder with a reassuring gaze, clearly understanding. After a moment, Rottytops took a moment to slowly take off the hood of the hazmat suit, prompting a grin from the genie as soon as she saw her face. "Attagirl. Besides, I'm currently a lot more...physical than I usually am, so you have even less to worry about! You'd only have a real problem if I was in my true form."

"True form?" Rottytops repeated, caught off-guard, and looked to Mena with wide eyes.

"Well, someone clearly skimmed through the chapter..." Mena gave her a light-hearted chuckle, shaking her head, then turned to her with a grin with a few too many teeth and the purple in her eyes expanded to consume anything remotely human. Then, Rotty blinked, and she was back to normal. "I'll have to show you sometime, it'll be fun! But we're getting off-track. I've heard a lot of the what and how, but don't think I haven't noticed you haven't gotten around to the why, young lady."

...well, there wasn't any use avoiding this forever. "So...how familiar are you with Shantae's past Christmas's?"

Mena blinked, her head tilted a bit. "...well, I've seen her open all her presents each year, but I'm going to take a guess and say that's not exactly what you're talking about."

"Mhm. Well, it was...I think about a week ago, and Shantae and I were talking. I was making a few Christmas jokes, she was helping me figure out the best presents for Sky and Bolo, we talked about some dates we could set up later, typical girlfriend stuff, y'know? And then at some point the conversation turned to Christmas traditions," Rottytops began, her eyes shooting up to the ceiling. "I told her about all the fun ways the Cadavers did things, she was telling me about how she and Mimic celebrated Christmas, and then suddenly right in the middle she got real quiet. Contemplative. Kinda scared me a little, honestly. Then she pulled up right next to me and asked if she could share a secret that, according to her, only Mimic, Sky, and Bolo knew. I was curious, so I agreed, and..."

Rottytops sighed. "She told me that, in her youth, she'd had her own, private Christmas tradition for a little while. For five straight years, every Christmas Eve, just before she went to bed, she'd make a quiet wish on a star that one of her presents would be a message from you. A letter, a call, anything. And after five years of no response, she eventually just...gave up. She said in hindsight that you were probably a bit too busy healing up from the Pirate Master to do anything, so she didn't really blame you, but dang it, that was the saddest story I'd ever heard! I didn't say anything to Shantae, but after hearing that I knew exactly what I had to do. For our first Christmas together as a couple, I was determined to get that message for her, one way or another. And I don't do anything by halves. So...yeah, that's it. There's your why. That answer your questions?"

The zombie turned to look at Mena, and quickly struggled to keep her heart from banging out of her chest. After all this time talking with her and seeing how much she clearly loved Shantae, Rottytops had kinda been expecting the crestfallen grief she saw when she looked back...but the apoplectic rage mixed in? Not so much. She was suddenly very glad she wasn't on the genie's bad side as she slowly turned to look at her. "...did she say exactly when she started that tradition, by any chance?"

"Uh...when she was ten years old. Why do you ask?" Rottytops answered, taking a step back. Mena didn't seem to notice, eye twitching a bit as she took a few deep breaths, and then she stared at Rottytops with a forced, pointed grin that looked about two seconds away from turning into a scowl.

"Do you have a pillow I could scream into?" The genie asked, slowly and deliberately and clearly trying her absolute best to remain calm, and also not exactly succeeding. Rottytops elected not to point this out, and instead took a moment to open the door to her bedroom and gesture to it with open arms. "Thank you. Excuse me one moment."

Without another word, she entered the room, slammed the door, and...oh, wow. Rottytops thought she had some good curses before, but this? This was next level. Honestly, if not for the context, she'd be tempted to take notes, but very carefully didn't, simply waiting outside while the genie took a moment to vent. Of course, there was a bit of concern when she heard the sound of fabric tearing, but she got the answer to what that was a moment later when the door burst open and out stomped Mena, holding a shredded pillow between her teeth and looking absolutely rabid. The genie spat out the pillow a second later and then snapped her fingers, and with a bit of magic it was as good as new.

"...sorry about that," Mena quietly apologized, shaking her head. "I just...discovered that a certain target of my rage has even more reasons to be furious at them than I thought there were already."

"Pirate Master?" Rottytops ventured out with a guess, only to quickly have it shot down with a snort.

"Oh, I WISH. At least that bastard has the decency to be dead in the ground; I have to live with these people," She shook her head, looking just about ready to go off into a rant, but then she paused. Slowly but surely, a smirk began to grow on her face, and she turned towards Rottytops with a newfound vigor and a glint of mischief in her eyes. "...say, what time is it, exactly?"

Taking the non-sequitur in stride, Rottytops looked at the clock. "About...9PM, Christmas Eve."

"Good, good...so, we have about 24 hours, because Galva isn't a snitch, and as much as I'd love to simply wait to see my daughter in-person for the first time in a long, long while, I think it'd be better if she didn't have to see me with so much stress, don't you think?" Rottytops very much wanted to ask who exactly Galva was, but she kept quiet. Because, like she had so many other times, Mena was acting very familiar, but this time, Rottytops was less thinking about Shantae and more about herself. "And while I don't have the real subject of my anger to take it out on...I do happen to know that there are quite a few people who, while they haven't done anything to me, have certainly made my daughter's life a lot harder than it needs to be."

"Are you going where I think you're going with this?" Rottytops asked, beginning to match Mena's smirk with one of her own.

"Oh, absolutely. Don't get me wrong, I love Shantae and think she's grown into a fine woman and a great hero, and a large part of that is her seemingly endless reserve of patience and understanding...but between you and me?" Mena leaned in closer, eyes quite literally sparkling as she whispered. "That is far more because of Mimic - and to some extent, her father - than my influence. Personally, I was always far more the rebellious bad girl. But let's keep that a secret for now - no need for Shantae to know just how many times her mother landed herself in jail, right?"

"Okay, sure, but you are definitely telling me that story later," Rottytops narrowed her eyes and poked Mena in the chest, but she couldn't help her grin growing wider. "Soooo...pranking spree? Is that what I'm hearing? Hitting up Mayor Scuttlebutt for how small Shantae's paycheck is?"

"Oh, he'll be first, and I have plenty of others in mind," Mena nodded, fangs glistening in the light before she slung her arm around Rotty's shoulders and pulled her close. "Come on, now - the night is young, we're both wide awake, and there's plenty of time! So...how about we get to some mother-daughter-in-law bonding, and act the part of Krampus?"

--

...and there's your preview! Like I said before, even if I can't necessarily get this done by Christmas, I do very much plan on getting this done just because this is SUCH a good idea. And don't worry, you'll be getting plenty of Mena; save for a few cameos, this fic primarily alternates between Mena's POV and Rottytops' POV. There's going to be a lot of fun here, so look forward to it!

[bradshawsbaby]

2. Pumpkin carving with The Seresin Family. Maybe a little chaos with the twins.

“Bagman, I’m a humble enough woman to admit that this may have been a huge, huge mistake,” Phoenix sighed, running a hand through her dark hair, which was quickly falling out of the neat ponytail she’d tied it back in earlier today.

Hangman glanced down at his wife, grimacing in agreement. “Minx, I’m nowhere near as humble as you, and even I can admit this was a terrible idea.”

The two of them broke down into a burst of silent laughter as they hovered in the entranceway of the kitchen, taking in the sight of the disastrous mess before them.

Somehow, they’d gotten it into their heads that carving and painting pumpkins with the kids—eight-year-old JJ, seven-year-old Ben and Liam, and three-year-old Ellie—would be a perfect way to spend this lovely October afternoon. They’d gone pumpkin picking with the rest of the Dagger Squad a few days earlier and had specifically let the kids choose their own pumpkins for that purpose.

Hangman and Phoenix had been heavily involved in the process at the start, Phoenix helping the kids trace out their designs and Hangman being the one to do all the heavy-duty cutting—even as much as Ben and Liam had tried to insist on carving their own pumpkins. But then they’d taken a step back, trying to let their children be as creative as they wanted.

That, however, had apparently been a rookie mistake. The kitchen table, the floor, even parts of the wall were now splattered with paint. Ellie had paint in her hair, across her face, and all over her arms. It would probably take three baths to get her clean. Ben and Liam had apparently been more interested in painting each other than in painting their pumpkins. JJ was trying to be mature and responsible, but occasionally got involved in paint-flicking contests with his brothers.

And that wasn’t even beginning to mention the mess of pumpkin guts and seeds that were currently littering the kitchen floor.

“Hey! You got your paint on my pumpkin!” Liam suddenly exclaimed, frowning at his twin.

“No, I didn’t!” Ben insisted stubbornly.

“Yes, you did!” Liam cried, bending down and picking up a fistful of pumpkin guts.

“Liam, don’t—” Hangman and Phoenix both called out in tandem, but it was no use.

Liam launched the soggy pumpkin guts into his brother’s face, which resulted in a war between the twins, JJ ducking out of the way as he hurried to grab his baby sister and pull her out of the line of fire. It took both Hangman and Phoenix to pull the twins away from each other.

Later, once all the kids were bathed and in bed and Hangman and Phoenix were scrubbing their kitchen clean, Hangman turned to look at her.

“Minx, next year, I say we buy pre-carved pumpkins.”

“I won’t fight you on that one, Bagman.”

October OTP Writing Prompts 🎃

[sentfromwolves]

midnight: What keeps your OC up at night? Do they have nightmares? Fears? Anxieties? What do they do in the small hours of the morning when they should be sleeping? (for anyone!)

Thank you so much for the ask! I love this one so much, I think I'll do it for the HBABL crew.

also very much tw for: brief mentions of child abuse, sa, and ptsd/trauma symptoms, cannibalism, gore, violence

◢ QUESTIONS *

midnight: What keeps your OC up at night? Do they have nightmares? Fears? Anxieties? What do they do in the small hours of the morning when they should be sleeping? (for anyone!)

❖ 》　NEMESIS ;midnight ➡

Nemesis is routinely in the nightmare zone for the first twenty years of his life. He's literally cursed to die on his 21st birthday and it does keep him up at night. There's a very real fear in him that everything he's trying in order to save his own life is in vain, and he often feels like he's unable to stop the passage of time toward his known death and he can't get off the train tracks in time to avoid collision. He also suffers insomnia because of this and the pervasive, awful pressure of feeling like he needs to use every waking moment he can to try and find a way to break his curse. Unfortunately this isn't the only thing that keeps Nemesis up at night. His nightmares are also very often infused with childhood traumas. His mother was abhorrently physically and emotionally abusive to him for several years before he ran away from home, and living on the run was also incredibly dangerous for a young adult on the streets. Nemesis is incredibly street savvy, but has also experienced assault and severe violence and it's really hard for him to ever find sleep without his need for constant vigilance stopping him from getting anywhere near eight hours of sleep at night.

❖ 》　JUDGE ;midnight ➡

Yeah, Judge also has trouble sleeping, but because he does it where no one can see, no one knows until he opens up about it. He's been cannibalized by his own kind, eaten and regurgitated, torn apart and put back together again, so many times that his body is just a massacre of scars and parts stitched back together somewhat wrong. This constant physical trauma has absolutely left mental scars, and Judge is incredibly hostile about his sleeping space. He's also a wounded, traumatized dog--the kind of stray that starts howling and snarling the moment you get close to the bars of his cage. He's also got additional uhhh memory issues where he does sometimes remember other emotionally abusive situations and startles himself awake, uncertain of who he is or what body he's in.

❖ 》　HALLIDAY ;midnight ➡

Halliday is probably the most well adjusted out of all of these guys and by that I mean he gets eight hours of sleep maybe three times a week, which probably says something big about this cast. He sleeps at night, routinely, and gets nightmares once in awhile, but he's a master at self-distancing from his trauma and also repressing his own experiences until they build and build and burst in the back of his mind and snap him into a place of insomniac anguish and despair. It's kind of like, he'll look away and look away and look away, but the moment he even catches a glimpse of the past in a mirror and gets sucked into that memory again, it haunts him through the night, or inflicts itself into his dreams. Most of Halliday's trauma is from atrocities he's committed and the blood on his hands as a result of his loyalty and faith to his order, which has led him to perform acts of violence in the name of God. A very specific event cracked the delusional mindset he shrouded himself in as a separator between him and his morality and ability to learn, grow, grieve, and change for the better. Now, that specific event, unfortunately, is also his haunting. It keeps him up at night. There's a girl and she's dead because of him, and she keeps him up at night. To a lesser extent, Halliday will also suffer rare nightmares about his mother's suicide, and the emotional trauma he sustained as the unwanted, yet priceless child of his family. He suffers a lot of anxiety over feeling like he should never have been born, that his life is a mistake, and he's good at looking away from it, but it catches up to him sometimes and puts him into a dark, dark space.

❖ 》　DESMOND ;midnight ➡

Desmond is such a fucking weirdo. He sleeps pretty regularly well enough, and not getting eight hours of sleep is more often due to him being a busybody than anything else. Like I've mentioned before, this guy has a really fucked up relationship with his brother. Dreams that dress themselves in the shape of his childhood home and his brother and the traumatic events that killed their parents will startle him awake at night. He'll become prone to anxiety attacks then, where he reverts to the injured parts of himself that are trying so desperately to find some sort of forgiveness for the blame of killing his parents and the blood on his hands. Nightmares where his brother leaves him permanently in ways he can't control (ie. murder) also trigger Desmond deeply, leaving him awake and restless and angry for the rest of the night. I could add more, but it's a bit plot spoiler heavy for him, so I'll bow out on this asshole here.

Come ask me questions about my OCS here!

[pigeonwhumps]

Crucifixion part 1

Immortal Cannon Fodder masterlist

Whumptober masterlist

Day 3: HAIR'S BREADTH FROM DEATH | gun to temple | "say goodbye" | impaled

Taglist: @extrabitterbrain @wolfeyedwitch

Phoenix is crucified.

Set when Phoenix is 18, about three years before they meet Kai.

1.4k

CWs: Immortal whumpee, temporary character death, 'hair's breadth from death' only works because they're immortal which I guess is a warning on its own, crucifixion, non-con drugging, non-con partial stripping (non-sexual), kidnapping, near-suffocation, panic attacks, restrained, hand whump, emeto, death wish (right at the end), mentioned serial killings, background team whump, brief mentions of horrible self-care

“And the main story again. Another three people have been killed in an explosion towards the south of the city, including one powered civilian. It is suspected that they are the latest victims in the recent spate of attacks on powered people by a group calling themself The Chosen Ones. Their leader has declared superpowers an ‘unnatural deviation against humanity that must be wiped out’. The police are urging anyone with powers to lie low and stay vigilant. In the meantime…”

Phoenix sighs and turns the news report playing from their phone off, fiddling with the tracking bracelet around their wrist. They’re not sure how it’s meant to help, really –  this group are killing so fast that by the time someone noticed they were missing, they would be dead. If the killers didn’t destroy the bracelets first.

They need some air. Being trapped in the flat with Abbie, Indigo and Segun for several weeks hasn’t been good for them, even if they do have roof access. Someone’s not going to try to kill them in five seconds, right? Not so close to the Hero League HQ.

Besides. Someone has to empty the bins, and no-one else will do it.

Phoenix leaves the (admittedly debatable) safety of their room and empties bags out of the various bins, telling their team where they’re going at the same time. They’re not sure anyone heard over the soap playing on TV, let alone actually bothered to listen, but they’ve notified someone, that’s all they need to do. The chances that any of their team would attempt a rescue with the red alert on is very slim anyway.

They head downstairs, juggling the bin bags in one hand as they sign themself out (and that’s new too), and run round the back of the building to where the large wheelie bins are kept, tossing the bags in before they can burst. Then they look up.

It’s a crisp autumn day that makes them glad they’re wearing thick boots, and the gnarled old oak tree that’s somehow growing through the cracks in the concrete is dropping red and orange leaves. There’s already a pile on the ground, and Phoenix crunches in them, smiling to themself. They love the sound of crunching leaves.

A leaf twirls down towards their face and they catch it, admiring the red, orange and green splashes on its curling surface. Maybe they should keep it, to brighten up their room. Nevermind Abbie's ideas, these are beautiful.

All of a sudden they sway, vision blurring and splitting in two. Woah. What the hell? What’s happening to them? They try to turn around but just end up falling.

Oh shit. Their vision’s darkening, they can’t even summon the energy to crawl anymore, and maybe, just maybe, this isn’t a result of anything they’ve done this time.

They barely have time to think that before everything disappears and consciousness leaves them.

_

Phoenix comes back to themself slowly. They’re not sure what happened… did they forget to eat again? Or… wait– no– fuck.

They snap their eyes open. They’re facing a metal ceiling, and there’s echoing footsteps on concrete, voices echoing too. A warehouse? Rough rope digs into their bare wrists and ankles, holding their arms spread. Someone’s taken most of their clothes, they’re only in a t-shirt and underwear now, and they shudder at the cold, damp air.

“Oh, good, you’re awake,” calls a bald, gap-toothed man with a grin. “How are you feeling?”

They pull against the ropes but they won’t budge. “What do you want with me?”

“I want you dead. You powered people are an insult to humanity, and this city will be better off without you. Unfortunately I can’t kill you, but you were the easiest to get hold of and, heh, it doesn’t seem like anyone’s coming for you. What I can do is keep you here forever, or close enough.” He waves his hand and a man approaches with a hammer and a bag full of rusty nails. A woman comes from behind and holds Phoenix’s arm down.

And that’s when they really panic, throwing themself against the restraints with everything they have. If they don’t get out now, before those nails go in, they never will, no-one will look for them, and they scream and they thrash with no care as to what they’re doing, and then the first nail pierces their wrist and the screams for help turn to howls of agony. It hurts, god it hurts so much, and by the time their other wrist’s done they’re almost unconscious.

Someone slaps them on the cheek.

“Wakey, wakey. There’s still two more to go.”

Phoenix sobs, still trying to fight but every time they accidentally move their forearms the flesh and muscles and nerves rip a little more. Their feet are forced to either side and they scream as the nail’s driven into bone. Every tap of the hammer sends shocks through their feet, reverberating up their body. They notice vaguely as the rope’s untied and realise the nails are done. It still hurts too much to register properly.

“And up you go.”

Phoenix is on the move now. Their stomach churns and their head sways and they’re already nauseous from the pain, and they throw up down themself.

“Ugh. Disgusting. Well, we’ll be going now. Enjoy your time here and, heh, maybe someone will find you one day. Or maybe you’ll die eventually. Who knows? Maybe your immortality has a limit. Guess you’ll find out.”

As the small group walk away, some chuckling, Phoenix tries to glare but they don’t have the strength. It hurts so, so much. They try to look at something else, to distract themself, but all they can see is blank metal walls and concrete flooring. If they listen carefully they can hear the rhythmical drip... drip... drip... of a leaky pipe.

Maybe someone will come to fix that one day.

They smell drying puke and metallic blood and splinters are digging into their back. They’re going to be left here for good, no more grass, no more sky, no more stars, no more– no more anything. A tight, panicky feeling builds in their chest, iron bands constricting it. How long will they live for? Will they be here for eternity, stuck like this?

The pipe. Focus on the pipe. Drip... drip... drip... and then a pause. Drip... drip... drip... pause.

_

Drip... drip... drip... pause.

_

Occasionally it’s drip... drip... drip... drip... pause. Phoenix wonders if there’s any sort of pattern to it.

_

They take shallow, gasping breaths, trying to force as much air into their lungs as possible. Oh, God, they can’t breathe properly. There’s a vice inside them and it’s getting tighter and tighter, it just keeps constricting. They need to drop their arms to breathe but they can’t.

_

The nails. They’re trying to heal with them still in. They let out a small, breathless cry, unable to stop it, grateful at least that the skin can’t heal over.

_

They’re so tired. They try to keep their head up but they can’t, letting it drop to their chest, eyes closing, listening to the drip... drip... drip... pause, shivering. A hard shiver causes the nails to move, ripping more flesh and muscle, but they don’t have the energy to scream.

_

It’s not cold anymore. It’s not anything, they’re drifting, numb. No more pain. The warehouse is dark now. Are they even in the warehouse anymore? They’re slowing down and consciousness finally, finally leaves them.

_

Phoenix wakes up screaming. It takes a moment and then they remember where they are, what happened. Oh god, oh fuck, it feels like the nails have just been hammered in, it’s agony. Their jerking awake has ripped the nails through their wrists, through flesh they could’ve sworn was already torn and oh, god, their hands have sealed around the nails, they’re going to tear all over again, their feet too, it’s going to happen all over again. And again. And again, for the rest of their very long life.

Oh god.

They pull at the nails but they’re too weak, they can’t rip through them. They grit their teeth and try again, and this time they get forward slightly but the pain’s too much and they have to stop, have to, they can’t–

No. They can’t think that. That will make things ten times worse.

Focus on the dripping. Drip... drip... drip... pause... drip... drip... drip... pause.

Maybe they’ll die eventually.

[artwithoutblood]

Dorian can't be happy, Satan's orders.

Ahh, so it was Satan who did it. I wonder if he's the tall radiant man. And apparently Dorian doesn't know him (mentioned in old lore)?

I'm curious. If Dorian was somehow to achieve some measure of happiness... if he managed to be patient enough with the Fallen, if they chose to stay and were able to be content... Would Satan then have to intervene?

But I think he just let Dorian have the Fallen because he knew it wouldn't be a problem.

It seems that this hell favours efficiency, and Satan might feel even fighting with Dorian and denying him things directly is an antidote to the drabness. Doing that could even give Dorian the energy of a frustrated goal and encourage him to challenge Satan or behave in inconvenient ways.

He may just not want to or particularly care to get into it.

So Satan initially slapped the muzzle on Dorian to make life miserable without really engaging and left him to monotony, and later maybe just allowed him to pine for the mortal he couldn't have.

But when Dorian took matters into his own hands, challenging the order of things or sneaking around the rules, Satan knew he didn't have to do much.

Dorian had been left in a situation where he would become bored, isolated and peevish, feeling abandoned. Circumstances where he would become his worst self. It encouraged desperation, impatience, unrealistically built up expectations, suppressed emotions that might burst out at the wrong time and lies that could become exposed. Then he was allowed to take a victim that would arrive traumatized, confused, in denial, and possibly defiant.

This would probably result in a bad ending similar to what we saw. It's not reliable that the Fallen would comply or adjust quickly, so there probably aren't many chances for poor Dorian to get the rosy outcome he wants.

And instead of being energized by anger and injustice at Satan for denying him, and rebelling even harder, Dorian is left demoralized and remorseful. Blaming himself for the consequences of his own actions and feeling emptier than before.

Whether it was malicious or not, intentional or not, Satan won without lifting a finger. Gave Dorian enough rope to hang himself. The nascent challenge fizzled, the order of the circles was upheld.

...As formidable as he is I think Dorian is not the smartest or scariest thing in hell. There is absolutely a a bigger fish here. 😨

can't draw the reply because all of my computers are out of commission, so we're....y'know.

Satan did not put it on him, but everyone jokes that he did. There is no reason for Lucy to bind when he himself is bound. Covered in ice, beautiful blonde hair that's near white, blue eyes that turn yellow in the sunlight. While Satan and Dorian have never met, I like to think that their interactions would be very much the "kind of silly guy vs serious guy who is amused by the silly." Something somber.

I think the relationship with the Fallen would fall apart no matter what. I fear it would be doomed.

Dorian's freedom is easy to get. He has to die again. He cannot die in the monotony, when he is bound to a world that repairs his body for him (for if he is injured he may use the ash as blood). He has never been injured past a few scratches. The ash patches itself even outside. There was a time when Dorian did not do his job. It burned him.

But perhaps he does not...mind the pain now.

The bigger fish is deep within the ice, not what sits on top of it.

[leam1983]

Stereotypes

Walt's gay, Sarah's straight and I'm bi. You'd think we'd get less clichés thrown our way as a result, but his being a sartorialist and a fair bit of an aesthete meshes a bit too well with my studies. Sarah's far more practical, visuals-wise, but she's also a fair bit of a theorist, thanks to her own research and her History degree. As for me, well, I'm a failed Lit Geek who got weaned on Peter Gabriel's RealWorld label, so Ye Olde Discman CD Pile used to be stuffed to the gills with bands that weren't exactly mainstream.

So, fast-forward to yesterday night, our Gay friends stop over for a quick digestif before tucking in for the night, and we're all lounging around in living room, with Jan Garbarek's Rites playing on the speakers. Again, consider that said Gay friends are maybe slightly older than I am, but that they've more or less been living and breathing certain US Pop acts for the past several years. You know the ones: Meghan Trainor, Taylor Swift, Katy Perry et al. If they were closer to Walt's demographic, they'd probably skew closer to Annie Lennox or Bonnie Tyler. Long story short, Garbarek's Rites is not their usual fare.

Ask most Gays in the Quarter to think of Soft Jazz, and most of them think about Kenny G, not anything that's even remotely close to ECM as a label. Most people I know think about Softcore when they imagine Alto saxophone soundtracks, and Garbarek more or less flies in the face of that assertion, all the while saying "Sucks to be you, I'm off to wrench the heartstrings of better-prepared listeners by pairing the dulcet tones of my instrument with a Georgian national orchestra and a celebrated poet from Tbilissi or a British Gregorian choir!"

Another tidbit that's needed for comprehension is the fact that we have a few highbrow radio emcees, locally - including one that's known for displays of emphatic bewilderment whenever she has someone on who hasn't heard of some obscure band from some verdant European crevice with a single CD under their belt who'd probably burst into flames if they ever made it to Billboard's charts. Full-on Hipster Mode, simply put. La totale, as we say in French.

Take all that, and imagine Sarah, Walt and myself demanding three and a half minutes of near-religious silence while we close our eyes and barely repress our tears at Galaktion Tabidze's reading of his own poem, The Moon Over Mtatsminda, while some poor hapless couple is stuck wondering where the fun stuff is in our playlists. Keep in mind, none of us here speak Georgian, the reading of that poem over Garbarek's arrangement is just so fucking excellent that it transcends linguistic barriers and rips tears out of you defacto.

Cue their mentioning that, and Walt breaking the emotional tension with half a guffaw and half a scoff. "You guys haven't heard of Georgia's own Gilles Vigneault?! My God, where the fuck have you been for the past twenty years?!"

I had to fight not to laugh; Peter's buck probably starts and stops at Rufus Wainwright, when it comes to Canadian auteurs... No disrespect to Wainwright, Walt and I just tend to think he's still at the stage where he exists as a more digestible, younger and less humble take on Leonard Cohen.

Yes, we're pretentious assholes on occasion. Do we care? Not one bit.

[roughdraftsofachaoticmind]

The Sandman.

I can’t properly put into words how The Sandman show makes me feel. But I’m going to try. So, lets start at the beginning.  I’m the youngest of three and there are large gaps between me and my sisters 7 and 12 years older than me, they were mainly my semi-reluctant babysitters. My eldest sister was big into the grunge and goth subculture that flourished in the 90′s and my middle sister was more into the boho chic and me? Just a weird amalgamation of a child. We didn’t bond very much which isn’t something I hold against them, our ages were so staggered, we were in such different journeys in our lives. However they always shared their books. Books on mythologies, Goosebumps and too many comics to count. My middle sister introduced me to Death: At Death’s Door by Jill Thompson. I was enthralled. I was in love. It was strange and like nothing I’d ever seen. I would read it over and over again. That comic was with me all the times, it brought me comfort like a teddy bear or blanket might do for another child. I would proudly show it to anyone who would give me a moment to talk about my interests.  Later in my young life my oldest sister would introduce me to Volume One of The Sandman. Preludes & Nocturnes. A dramatic difference to Death: At Death’s Door and I was once again enraptured by the comic. I latched onto the weird and colourful world that was sprawled upon the pages, at a different look at characters I’d come to love. This book too would now come with me everywhere, tucked in beside the love worn pages of the other for whenever I had a moment to read.  Things rapidly changed as I hit my teens, my life entirely tipped over and emptied by divorce, drugs and abuse. My sisters now old enough to have their own lives left and had taken their belongings with them as one does. And the once cramped room we all somehow managed to not kill each other in was empty. All their books now lined their own homes and the only ones I had were those tucked away in my bag. The only two pieces of my sisters I would have for many years as family arguments chased away any get togethers and divided us.  Pieces that felt like they were apart of the building blocks of me would be taken from me as my school councilor would deem the reading material too old for me and take them from me. They said it was to protect my young mind but it felt as if they had done it for any reason but to protect me, I was distraught beyond reason.  Libraries became my solace. A place where no one would take my books from me, a place where I could come to visit the stories that brought me so much comfort, a place to discover more than I could imagine. A place where free coffee went unwatched and may be the reason I am only 5′5″. The librarians there were unbelievably kind and always kept two copies of both books in case anyone else wanted to check them out there would still be a copy for me to read. All their kindness however could not bring me the feel of the worn edges of my books, they could not give me back the memories that flooded my system as I’d look upon the pages I’d coloured in my youth.  Eventually CAS tore me from my home and my school was forced to give back everything they’d taken from me over the years. I was reunited with my books, books I would need more than ever as I was thrown around the unmonitored foster care system. My weird amalgamation of self was stripped until I was more or less deemed normal enough to be placed with my mother, enough therapy until I could answer correctly. Books and trinkets no longer kept in my bag but lining a shelf neatly as all rational things should be. Comforting items such as were meant for babies and toddlers not teens heading into adulthood.  Angst, trauma, hormones and all that comes with being 16 dragged me far from books. Years spent angry at the world, at family I had believed abandoned me, Anarchy ever on my mind after suffering at the hands of flawed government agencies. I was barely home to sleep let alone look at my book shelf.  My anger dissolved as I got older and was replaced with the feeling of being lost, trying to reclaim who I was and discover the new parts of me, the ever massive question of finding my path in life weighing on my mind. Waiting for me dusty on my shelves were books that when I opened still gave me such a sense of comfort. Words I could recite with my eyes closed still filled me with wonder when I stared at them on the page.  That brings us to the fairly recent, the release of Neil Gaiman’s The Sandman on Netflix. To spite having typed so many words here I’m still at a loss. It brought me to comforting tears, tears of joy, unshed tears of loneliness and of belonging. The first 5 episodes and a bit of the 6th are from Volume One of The Sandman. Preludes & Nocturnes. I could barely believe it as I watched the pages I’d become to familiar with sprawl upon the screen just as enthrallingly beautiful as the first time I’d opened the comic. Watching the series brought me back to being small, in the room with my sisters, sitting on our bunk beds and just reading together without a worry in the world, moments where the tenderness had been lost upon me were brought back full force. The immense warmth that filled my chest to the point of bursting. Each actor enrapturing the character they played, leaping from the pages with grace. Every actor clearly chosen for capturing the character’s essence. Lines of dialog dripping from the pages and into my ears. I can’t describe The Sandman as anything other than perfect. It happened no moment sooner or later than it was supposed too, all those who were right for the job found at the right time.  When I finished the first 5 episodes and it started with the new arc I worried I would feel disconnected. I make no claims to be the biggest Neil Gaiman fan or even the biggest Sandman fan for that matter, I know two comics very well and have read a handful of the others, whatever was available at my library at the time but that was many years ago and my library didn’t have all his comics. I didn’t recognize Rose Walker, I didn’t know about Vortex’s and so I was worried that I may not experience the same level of joy, that I would fall out of love with these characters. I did not.  It was wonderful. It was the opposite of what I had feared. Instead now my brain was enthralled with ‘what would happen next?’ as I no longer had the answers. And the same way I had fallen in love with the books and their unknowns I fell in love with the rest of the season and it’s unknowns. I see new parts of characters I feel I’ve known for most of my life and I adore it with everything in me.  As I introduced, I don’t have the words to describe what the books and this show means to me. But I’ve tried and I can only hope that in reading this I can convey my Endless love for what The Sandman has given me for nearly 20 years. 

[variety-fangirl]

Saved Me / Platonic Ash!fem reader

Summary: you visit Ash at the store whilst Fez was outside dealing with business. Some guy tries to steal money, and you try to stop him, which results in you getting hurt.

Warnings: 18+ NO MINORS threat, swearing, distress, a gun and knife, mentions of someone being stabbed, mentions of blood, typical euphoria themes.

Author's note: a sad but cute short fic of ash and reader :)

Word count: 1.1k

You had been in Fez and Ash's lives for three years, and for two of those you'd been in a relationship with Fez. At first, Ash wasn't too fond of you. But he quickly saw how happy you made his brother, and realised you weren't so bad. You two built a close relationship, he cared about you a lot more than he led on. He barely ever shared his feelings but you loved the boy, all the same, he was like a son to you. And you vowed to lay down your life for him if necessary. You were aware of the boy's lifestyle and form of work since the beginning, and you weren't put off by it. You understood that some people had to result to unconventional ways of life to make an income sometimes, you didn't once judge them for it. You understood. And if anything bad were to happen because of their lifestyle, you wouldn't blame them, not even for a second.

You decided to visit the boys at the store for a few hours before heading home to study. You smiled and gave Fez a small wave from in front of the store, he was standing near some guy's car a little ways from you. He smiled and waved in return, you entered the store to wait for him. The store was empty, which you were thankful for. Ash was standing behind the desk, waiting for customers. He instantly smiled as you entered, perking up at some form of company.

"Thank god you're here, 'm so bored!" He complained, ushering you over to stand with him. You walked on over, smiling, happy that he was pleased by your company. You honestly adored this boy more than life, you were thankful to have them in your life. They were your everything, although you weren't sure they fully knew that. It seemed they felt that they were burdens sometimes, which was completely untrue. You worked every day on letting them know that wasn't the case, although they never seemed fully convinced.

"What's up?" You giggled, standing next to him. He proceeded to show you a new game he had found, ironically, about running your own mini weed business. It was quite entertaining, for a while. You were about to start heading out, kissing Ash on the head. "See you later little man!" You lightly called, just about to reach the door. Some guy came bursting in, surprising you and Ash. The guy's hand was shaking violently as he held a gun, making you stiffen instantly. "Back." He commanded, ushering his gun towards the counter, indicating he wanted you over there.

"Okay. Just keep calm okay dude? We don't want any trouble." You spoke as clearly as you could, holding your hands in the air as you walked backwards to the counter. You stood in front of Ash, pushing him back. The boy had a gun too but you didn't want anyone to die or get hurt. Your heart was beating so fast, it was loud and violent. So loud you thought maybe the two men could hear it also.

"Give me all the money." The guy grunted, motioning the gun to the register. You nodded, forming a small plan in your head. God, you hoped this would work. "Okay, but I need to get the key for it first. It's over there." You motioned to a cabinet nearby, it was a lie but the guy didn't know that. You felt Ash look up at you, probably confused. You looked behind you to see Ash reaching for his gun in his waistband. You shooked your head no and focused back on the guy who looked at you in confusion. "Where?!" He yelled, making you jump slightly. Your breathing was fast, indicating your nerves to everyone. "There! You grab it." You recommended, hoping he would fall for it.

He turned his head, looking for where you were on about. You took the opportunity and grabbed for the gun. But this guy had suspicions about your plan apparently and noticed your quick movements. You both wrestled to keep the weapon, a struggle ensuing. Just as Ash was about to help, BANG. Everything went fuzzy, your breathing becoming more erratic. You were unsure of what happened after. Ash watched in utter shock as you collapsed to the ground, the guy sprinting out of the store. Ash stared, opened mouthed, as blood began pooling on the floor. Ash screamed, not believing that this had happened. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" He screamed, tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Stay with me y/n! FEZ!" You could hear Ash's muffled voice pleading, but there was nothing you could do but moan in pain. Ash quickly grabbed a rag from behind the counter and pushed it on the wound on your stomach, the blood barely stopping. Ash pulled you into his arms, "Please stay with me y/n.." He cried, resting his head on your chest. You tasted metal on your tongue, unaware that blood was coming out of your mouth. You blacked out in Ash's arms.

When you came too, there were bright white lights around you. Am I dead? No, I hear voices. You tried to look around but you couldn't, your head was restricted by something. "Y/N!" You heard someone call before you blacked out again. Ash and Fez sat in the waiting room, heads in their hands. Neither knew what would happen to you or if you would even survive. They both blamed themselves, for different reasons. They regretted bringing you into this lifestyle.

You woke a few hours later, the pain not there. You opened your eyes to a very bright room, confused. When you looked around you noticed hospital equipment, the beeping of your monitor now becoming evident. It hurt your head, a small nagging pain forming. You groaned as you tried to sit yourself up slightly, alerting Ash and Fez who had been asleep. "Y/n!" They both called, rushing to your side. You looked at both of them, smiling lightly. "Hey" You mumbled, as they both grabbed your hands.

"Why the fuck did you grab the gun?!" Fez raised his voice slightly, looking upset. You huffed, "I know, I'm sorry. I just couldn't let him steal your money! He doesn't have the right." You argued, moaning in pain as your wound hurt. Fez sighed, obviously wanting to say more but decided not to whilst you were in pain. Ash squeezed your hand, "You deserve better than this." Ash mumbled, looking down. He was feeling guilty for letting this happen to you. "Hey! No, this isn't either of your faults. And I wouldn't change anything about my life with you guys, not for a second." You smiled, stroking the side of Ash's face lovingly and squeezing Fez's hand in yours. Fez leant forward and kissed you tentatively, they were both visibly trying not to cry. "You need rest," Ash mumbled, placing a kiss on your head. You nodded, trying to get comfortable in the hospital bed and tried to drift off asleep.