#might have to break into my own car to look for em

[thetrashywritingwitch]

I wish I had a quirk but it would just be the ability to find small things I've misplaced that's it I need psychic "where the FUCK is it???" power

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

The Cantaloupe (The Surprise, Part 24)

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: hospital times, surgery, pregnancy times, some scary medical stuff, blood, unresolved ending (I promise there's a happy ending just... not in this chapter), explicit language (let me know if I've missed anything) Word count: 2.1k

Summary: Early labor has kicked in again. Only, this time, there's no reversing it.

Week 34: The Cantaloupe

“Emily!” you yelled from the bathroom, gripping at the edge of the counter next to you. A contraction rolled through your body, and by its intensity and length you felt sure you’d been having them for a while. Why hadn’t you woken up!? You’d only gotten up to pee and been shocked by the full flood of liquid that spilled out of you. It was your water breaking. The contraction had followed.

For her part, Emily launched herself into the bathroom so quickly she almost fell, blinking, pantsless, leaning against the doorframe. It was 3:00 AM.

“You alright?” she groaned, trying to wake up fully. “What’s wrong?”

Sweat beaded at the back of your neck, and you felt well and truly panicked. It was still way too early to be having the baby. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, and you were dangerously close to hyperventilating.

“M-my water broke,” you said, your voice quiet and shaky as you started to rock back and forth. “And I’m having contractions.” Your voice caught in your throat. “Em,” you choked out. “It’s still too early…”

Emily was fully awake now, surging toward you and bending to hold your face in her hands. “Hey, shh, it’s okay,” she said, using her thumbs to wipe tears from under your eyes. Her own eyes were wide, and you knew she was scared, too, that she was putting on a brave face for you, and you loved her desperately for it.

“It’s gonna be okay. I’m gonna grab you some clothes, alright? And get dressed. And we’ll go to the hospital.” She opened the cabinets and looked for a pad for you to wear.

You were so short of breath you felt like you might faint, like you might throw up. “Em, she’s too small!” you cried. “What if I lose her!?”

“Y/N,” Emily soothed, kneeling in front of you and pulling you into her embrace. “You’re okay, honey. The baby will be alright. But right now I need you to breathe. Can you do that for me?”

You could feel the rise and fall of Emily’s chest and tried hard to match your breath to hers. Once you’d calmed down a bit, Emily lifted your head and kissed you quickly. She nodded at you, as if to confirm that you’d be okay if she left you for a moment. You nodded back, sniffling.

She patted your thigh, then quickly exited the room. When she came back, she had on a tank top and sweatpants. She handed you a stack of clothes before holding up one of her button-up work shirts to you.

“You think it’ll be cold at the hospital?” she asked, trying to get you out of your head.

You shrugged, pulling on your sports bra. “It was last time.”

She nodded and pulled on the shirt, letting it hang loose and unbuttoned around her as she knelt to help you with your sweatpants. You had a hard time getting your feet through the leg holes these days.

You stood slowly, cautiously, letting Emily slip your Birkenstocks onto your feet. When she stood, you just looked at each other for a moment and, before you could even really register what you were doing, you’d thrown your arms around Emily, pressing your face into her chest and hugging her as hard as you could. You felt her arms snake around you, her fingers press into your back, into the skin at your neck, her breath by your ear.

“You ready?” Emily whispered, pulling back to look at you. You nodded, and she squeezed your hand, leading you down to the car.

“Should we bring the hospital bag?” you thought out loud.

Emily locked the apartment door behind you, whispering, “I’ve had it in the car since last time.”

You felt a brief, lovely moment of calm looking at your wife. Strong, beautiful Em who took such good care of you. You leaned forward in the elevator to place a quick kiss on her cheek.

She furrowed her eyebrows, but smiled at you, her eyes still sleepy. “What was that for?”

You shrugged. “I just love you.”

You were both quiet in the car. Emily drove as quickly as she could without sirens and lights at her disposal. You’d tried the radio, but found it just made you more nervous. You gripped the center console when another contraction rocked you. Emily replaced it with her hand, concerned eyes shifting between you and the road.

At the hospital, she quickly found you a wheelchair and, as usual when she was anxious for you, raised all kinds of hell until you were safely in a room with a doctor. Emily sat next to you, leg bouncing, as the doctor ran an ultrasound wand over your belly.

“Hmm,” he said, eyebrows furrowed.

You and Emily shared a concerned glance.

He breathed out heavily before removing his glasses and looking at you. “Ms. Y/L/N, there’s no need for alarm yet, but your baby’s heartbeat does sound irregular.”

You felt like crying again and reached out to grasp Emily’s hand.

“There could be any number of causes, but I think it’s gonna be in baby’s best interest that we get him out of there as soon as possible, okay?”

“But she’s… she’s alive?” you squeaked out.

“Yes, ma’am.” He swiveled his stool around and looked at your charts. “Alright, Dr. Delgado has been alerted to the situation and she’s on her way. Right now, a few of our nurses are gonna get you prepped for a c-section.”

Yours and Emily’s voices overlapped one another. “Wait, wait! A c-section!?”

“They’re very common, very safe,” the doctor reassured you. “A vaginal birth isn’t an option here. We don’t know what’s causing baby’s heartbeat to stutter, and you're far enough away from your due date that he’s still breech.”

“Well, can I… can I stay awake?” you asked.

He nodded. “Yes, ma’am. We’ll apply a local anesthetic to your lower spine.”

“Okay,” you conceded, trying not to look too terrified.

When he left the room, you turned to Emily, and even she was looking a little pale. She brushed a strand of hair out of your face, watching you with worried eyes.

You shivered a bit, nerves coursing through you. “You ready to meet her?” you asked, trying to focus on the one good thing to come from all of this.

A smile flashed across Emily’s face and she kissed you quickly. “So ready. God, I hope he’s got your nose.”

What felt like mere minutes later, you were being wheeled to an operating room. Emily held your hand, all dressed up like a doctor with a gauze gown and hair net and mask. You were just glad they were letting her go in with you. You didn’t think you could do it alone.

Dr. Delgado was waiting for you in the OR, and you’d never been so relieved to see a doctor in your life. This whole evening had been one unexpected and terrifying thing after another, so to see her in here made you feel much safer.

They hooked you up to several machines and hung a little curtain just under your chest so you (and Emily) wouldn’t see the blood and freak out. They rolled a stool over for Emily, and she perched next to you, one hand holding yours, the other running comfortingly through your hair.

It was hard to believe, hard to imagine that everything you’d worked toward for the last eight months, everything you’d put your body through, everything you’d hoped for, longed for–it was here. It was time. It had all led up to this.

The OR nurses helped Dr. Delgado into her gloves, and she turned then to you and Emily.

“Well, ladies. You ready for this?”

You looked at one another and nodded.

“More than likely, the baby will be just fine,” she said, as the other doctors and nurses prepped the surgical site. You’d never been more thankful for anesthesia. “But there’s also a good chance that he’ll need some time in the NICU. We may have to whisk him away pretty quick if he needs immediate attention. This does not necessarily mean that something is really wrong. But if you’d like to accompany the baby, Emily, you’re welcome to.”

Emily looked at you, as if for permission. You squeezed her hand and nodded. “Go with the baby, honey. I’ll be okay.”

“Okay,” she whispered. “I’ll keep him safe, I promise.”

“I know you will,” you whispered, looking deep into her eyes. And for neither the first time nor the last time you were struck with the thought that there was no one in the world, and never had been, that you loved more than Emily.

“Alright,” Dr. Delgado said to her team. “Let’s get in there.”

You could feel a vague sense of pressure against your skin sometimes but it was, otherwise, almost boring. Emily’s foot tapped incessantly, as it always did when she was anxious.

“I really want to see what’s going on over there,” she whispered to you, about fifteen minutes into the procedure, craning her neck slightly.

You gripped her hand and pulled her back to you. “No!” you protested. “So help me god, if you faint while I’m having our baby I will never forgive you.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not gonna faint. I’ve seen plenty of blood. Lots of bodies cut open.”

You grimaced. “Okay, well, you haven’t seen me cut open. Might feel a little different.”

She shrugged and nodded. “You’re probably right.” You winced and she furrowed her eyebrows at you. “You okay?”

You nodded, shutting your eyes for a moment. “Just dizzy.”

Emily ran her thumb back and forth over your eyebrows, just watching you, trying not to worry about you or the baby.

“Oh,” one of the doctors exclaimed. “That’s a lot of blood.”

Emily shot up, holding your hand tightly.

“Shit,” Dr. Delgado mumbled. “We’ve got a placental abruption.”

Various alarms started going off, and you glanced around, alarmed, trying to crane your neck to see what was going on. But your vision was swimming. You felt almost nauseated. You found it hard to focus, hard to keep your eyes open.

“Alright, baby’s out,” one of the doctors called.

Emily watched your eyelids flutter shut. “Honey,” she called, patting the side of your face, her voice growing more and more worried. “Baby, stay with me.

When she could no longer get you to open your eyes, she yelled, “Hey, something’s wrong here!” 

“Mom’s lost a lot of blood,” a doctor called.

“Where is it coming from!?”

“We’re losing her!”

Dr. Delgado’s voice rang out above everyone else’s: “Get the other mom out of here! Emily, go!”

Emily felt panic rise inside her, icy and burning, as she watched you with wide eyes, pleading with you to wake up. “Come on, Y/N, come on,” she mumbled, her face inches from yours, tears brimming in her eyes. “Don’t fucking quit on me, honey. Don’t you fucking quit.”

“Baby’s not breathing!”

“Take her to the NICU!” Dr. Delgado ordered. “And get other mom out! Emily, you need to leave so I can save your wife’s life. Okay? Somebody page general!”

Emily felt like her world was falling apart, like everything she’d worked so hard to build, everything she held dear, was breaking in front of her. A nurse grasped her arm and pulled her toward the door, and she locked eyes with Dr. Delgado once more.

“I’ll do everything I can, Emily,” she assured her. “Now get out. Stay with your daughter. She needs you.”

Emily took one last look at you, at your body, bloody and splayed on the operating table. You were right. It was different when it was you. Then she took a shaky breath and stepped into the hallway, racing after the tiny crib cart that had emerged just moments before her.

“Hey!” she called after them, catching up to lay a hand on the edge of the crib. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked at the baby. So tiny. So beautiful, even all scrunched up. Even as one of the doctors pressed air into her lungs. Emily felt a tear drip down her cheek.

A girl. Her girl. Her girl with her mama’s nose. Emily sniffed and wiped her face as they all clambered into the elevator, heading up to the NICU floor. She slipped her pinky finger into her daughter’s tiny, warm hand and let out a shaky breath.

“It’s okay, ma fifille,” she cooed, voice breaking. “I’m right here. Mommy’s here.”

[callmewrinkles3]

All Too Well - DR3 x Fem!OC

Summary: Saying goodbye is hard. Saying goodbye to your family without telling them it’s a final goodbye is even harder. But Em has come to terms that Dan doesn’t love her the same way she loves him, and leaving on her own terms will hurt less than being told he’s ending things. March 2022.

Word Count: 12.3k

Warnings: fighting, all the angst this bad boy can carry, lil bit of a dickhead!Dan, running away from your friends, mentions of death, mentions of motorsport crashes and deaths, moving without telling anyone, lying to family, talk of medical procedures, frank talks about what people want to happen if they can’t decide.

A/N: We’ve kept you waiting, but we hope this was worth the wait! This part of our story is what started us on this madcap adventure together, and it’s a lot of what makes our beloved Em Em. Thank you in advance!

Em stared at the two boarding passes in front of her as she sat in the fancy Heathrow lounge, a caramel latte beside them. Heathrow to Dubai, Dubai to Melbourne. More than twenty hours spent on planes to get to Melbourne, to jump into work and get stuck in at the Australian Grand Prix. And it was the last thing she wanted to do.

She should be excited. She should be so happy because she was about to see the boys after over a week apart, she was about to see Dan. She was finally going to get to see the Ricciardos after almost two years apart. But she was dreading it, the memories from Saudi filling her head as she thought. Em forced her attention to the laptop sitting on her knees, emails up and the one she never thought she’d write sitting in the middle of the screen.

SUB: Resignation Letter

From: emmy@.ric3.com

To: blake@.ric3.com

Dear Blake,

Please use this email as my official resignation, effective immediately. I’m sorry that I can’t offer any more notice.

Working with you has been fantastic, and I appreciate everything we’ve gotten to do over the past three years.

Kind regards,

Emma.

Signing it Emma felt wrong. Emma was for Zak Brown and Andreas Sidle. Christian Horner had used it the one time she was introduced to him at Red Bull. She was always Em or Ems now. Except for Dan, she was his Emmy. But that wasn’t going to happen any time soon. Or ever again. If he called her that she thought she might lose the last grip she had on her composure and break.

The email was scheduled and sitting in her outbox to send after the race, and the last thing she did before boarding was reschedule her flight home. Instead of leaving Monday morning with the boys, she was going on Sunday evening. She’d be somewhere over Queensland by the time Blake received the email and the boys would be at least twelve hours behind her. It was enough time to make sure she could be well ahead of them and get away.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. She was supposed to be smiling and laughing, and she was supposed to be in Perth right now cuddling her niblings and laughing with Grace and Joe. Learning to cook yet another family recipe and insisting that she and Dan were just friends. She couldn’t even answer the question honestly if they were friends now.

He’d sent her away. The one thing she begged him not to do, the pinkie promise she’d made him give. The only promise she had ever asked him to keep. Not to stay safe while driving, not to do anything else. Not to leave her alone. The near screaming match they’d had in his drivers room that Blake and Michael had to break up. The way he didn’t even look at her but told Blake to “take Ems to the hotel”. How she had tears streaming down her face as she was escorted through the paddock like she wasn’t supposed to be there.

She still didn’t fully believe that she’d dropped her phone in the car. Em shouldn’t even have been in the car alone with Blake, but Dan insisted she went to the hotel room so she went. She was left there alone in Saudi Arabia, where Dan knew she couldn’t leave the hotel. She stared out the window at the smoke from the rockets, completely alone all night until Michael knocked on her door the following morning and she had to pretend everything was fine.

She’d worked from hospitality and as soon as the race finished she changed her flights to go back to London instead of Perth, making up an excuse. And Dan bought that she was going back for her parents.

“Family stuff.” She’d said when he asked.

“Em, you don’t talk to your family much.” She was folding clothes into her case, the one she’d brought that had her Australia clothes already standing fully packed.

“Yeah, but it’s family. My parents have their thirty fifth wedding anniversary in a few weeks, I’m helping plan it.” Only the last part of her words were a lie and she bit her tongue.

“Everyone wants to see you, they all miss you and they keep asking when you’ll be over. The kids miss you.”

“I’ll see them in Melbourne, Dan. You go, enjoy your time at home with them.”

She’d gotten a car to bring her to the airport and Dan hadn’t even asked a question, just a “text me when you land”. There was no hug, no even quick hand squeeze like they usually did in the Middle East. That’s when she knew whatever they were doing. The nearly four years of sleeping together and pretending they weren’t, of the media wondering who she was and why she was always there, was over.

She’d promised herself that she wasn’t going to catch feelings, that it was just sex. That she could do it. That every time she told Dan “y’know, right?” it was purely platonic. That the slow sex was just them wanting to take their time, nothing else. That she hadn’t murmured to Dan to make love to her in Bahrain when they shouldn’t have even been sharing a room after Grosjean’s crash, when he kissed her and held onto her and whispered that he loved her as he entered her.

Because that was sixteen months ago and nothing had changed. It was never going to change between them. Their fight in Saudi had proven it, and now she had to pretend that everything was fine before she said goodbye to the people she loved for the last time.

She couldn’t keep working with Dan when not sleeping with him. She couldn’t watch him fall for another woman, couldn’t get introduced to more people as “Em, my best friend” anymore. She was his Emmy. He was her Danny. And not getting to love him and be loved by him how she wanted to was going to kill her.

The flights were what she expected, Dan had upgraded her tickets to first class like he always did and she wanted to kill him like she always did. She spent the flights and the layovers organising his calendar for the next three months, tracking his flights and cross checking the sponsor events that had been filled in. Everything up to Hungary was booked and ready to go. She checked her watch when she was halfway to Melbourne, realising that he’d be at the Optus event she was usually on his arm for. She was supposed to be there this year, but she told him to take Michelle instead. All the events around the Australian GP that she always went as his plus one, wearing the star necklace he’d gotten her for her birthday, and the matching earrings that were her Christmas present the same year. Her outfit was usually one he’d bought for her against her protests because “let me spoil you” was how he showed that he cared, and she always wore the gold moon ring on her thumb that matched the sun one she’d bought him for his little finger. Most of her wardrobe and all of her everyday jewellery were presents from Dan. Her life was completely entwined with his, and untangling it all was going to hurt.

Her flight got in at god-awful o’clock that Wednesday morning, she’d lost a full day having left London on the Monday evening, but she walked through Melbourne customs with her suitcase glad to just be through. She’d told everyone she’d get an Uber to the hotel and meet them for breakfast, but instead as soon as she appeared in front of the glowing Melbourne sign two small figures ran to her yelling.

“AUNTIE EMMY YOU’RE HERE YOU’RE HERE!” Em dropped her bags and fell to her knees, arms wide open to pull Isaac and Isabella into her and pressing so many kisses to their curly heads.

“I’m here, I’m here. I missed you both so much. So, so much. I’m so sorry I couldn’t see you, I wanted to see you sooner.” Stupid Western Australia and closed borders and not letting people through. Her eyes began shining as she took in the difference in the two kids, Isaac at least a foot taller and losing the childlike way he’d spoken. Isabella had doubled in size, long hair and a child instead of a toddler the last time she’d seen her in person.

“It’s ok, you’re here now! Nana said you’ll sit with us for ev’rything ‘cept the race? Cause we’ve got two years of birthday and Christmas pressies for you!” Isaac looked so proud, grinning as he took her wheeled carry on and pulled it.

“I can’t wait. Who’re you here with?”

“Grandad Joe! He has our sign, Uncle Mike and Uncle Blake told us we had to use all the glitter. We were gonna wait, but I saw you and I wanted a hug. Is that ok?” He looked almost worried of her response, but she ruffled his hair.

“It’s more than ok. All I wanted was hugs from the two of you.”

Isabella clung to her waist, Em lifting her up with one arm and mentally thanking Michael for the strength training that let her carry the girl and pull her suitcase with her. She looked around to see Joe holding a giant piece of bright orange card, Auntie Emmy written on it in blue and silver glitter. It was the shiniest thing she’d ever seen in her life, and it was coming home with her even with the craft herpes that would infest her suitcase. Joe pulled her into a one armed hug on the side his granddaughter wasn’t monopolising, pushing a kiss to the side of her forehead that made her want to cry.

“We missed you, kiddo. Grace wanted to be here but we couldn’t fit her in the car too, and Dan’s doing media today. You cut it tight to get in.”

“It’s my parents wedding anniversary next week, I’ve been helping. I have to fly out after the race on Sunday.” It was Wednesday, and she could see his face fall as he realised how little time they’d have together.

“We’re spending as much time with you as we can until you go. Those boys get you all year round, we get you for this weekend.”

“That sounds perfect.”

When they made it to the hotel Em was greeted with yet more hugs from Grace, Michelle, and Michelle’s husband Adam. There were tears in everyone’s eyes at the reunion, and the long hug from Grace was the best thing ever and broke her heart at the same time. It was so restorative, so good, but she wasn’t going to get many more of them.

“Dan checked you in, here’s your key. He’s got the room on the other side of you, Blake’s on the other wall, we’re most of our corridor. Do you want to get some sleep and we’ll call you at noon?”

The first thing Em noticed about her room was the adjoining door between her room and Dan’s. She closed the lock gently to make sure she was completely alone. After that she napped fitfully, waking up to knocks on the door and yet more hugs. The day was spent going to the zoo, kids hanging out of her as she swung them around and gave piggybacks, feeling exactly like part of the family. Blake told her to take the day off for jet lag, and she wasn’t complaining.

That evening was filled with fun as the kids clung to her while she pulled out the first of so many presents. Chocolate first so she could see their faces eating proper chocolate rather than the Australian stuff that didn’t melt in the heat. The bag of duty free was quickly eaten between everyone, a movie on tv as she filled everyone in on what she had been doing. It wasn’t until after eight that Dan appeared wearing a suit.

“Ems! I thought you were coming with me tonight?” She looked up from where she’d been half dozing with Isabella curled up against her, taking in her best friend wearing a navy blue suit and white shirt.

“Coming to what? I’m taking today for jet lag. What’s tonight?”

“The AusGP reception. You always come!” Confusion was written all over his face and Em swallowed once, looking at him carefully.

“I said I wasn’t doing anything this year. I have to leave pretty much straight after the race, I don’t have time.”

“Emmy, please.” She hated that she couldn’t resist him when he did that, when her name curled around his accent like that.

“I don’t have anything to wear.” This was the closest they’d ever come to an argument in front of his family. Their eyes were going between them as if watching a tennis match.

“I got you something.”

“Dan, you can’t do that.” It was pointless to argue but she had to try make her point. She couldn’t just do everything because he wanted her to.

“I did. C’mon, it’s three hours and some schmoozing and we can come back so you can go to bed. He did his best impression of puppy dog eyes, lifting Isabella from her. “You want to see Auntie Emmy all glam and pretty, right Is?”

“Yeah! She’s always pretty.”

“You’re very right. I left the dress in your room, Ems. Please?”

“Fine.”

She said her goodbyes and went into her room, making sure the adjoining door was locked before going into shower and change. As she walked into the bathroom she thought she heard the door rattle but ignored it, forcing herself to take time to put herself together.

Years travelling around the world had taught her how to make herself look presentable in very little time, forcing her to learn how to do a blow dry with a hotel hairdryer. It took less than an hour to have hair and makeup perfectly done, a wrap around her shoulders and a pair of heels on her feet. The dress Dan had picked was perfect for her. It was lavender, knee length with a corset top, and her jewellery worked perfectly with it. He had taste when it wasn’t about party shirts. Once she was ready she picked up a clutch and knocked on Dan’s door. He opened the door confused, but ready to go.

“I thought you’d use the adjoining door? It’s why I got us these rooms.”

“I’m tired, Dan. Can we just get this over with?”

The launch was like anything else, an event to deal with. There were speeches and then wandering around the room, Dan’s hand hovering at her lower back but not quite touching her. She smiled as she was introduced as “meet Ems, she’s my best friend and my manager’s assistant who keeps my life on track”, even while her heart was breaking. But she kept her cool, finally managing to break away from Dan for a few minutes to chat to Ted and Natalie from Sky while Dan did the rounds.

“I didn’t know if you’d be here. I was talking to Michael yesterday, he said you weren’t in Perth with them,” Ted remarked as Em looked at the almost empty glass of champagne in his hand.

“Is this going to end up as gossip on the notebook if we talk?” Nat nearly snorted with laughter, Ted shaking his head with a chuckle.

“Nope. I’m drinking so I’m officially off work duties. Unless you have any gossip about things? Anything that I can attribute to an unnamed McLaren source?”

“I don’t work for McLaren, thankfully Zak doesn’t sign my paycheque. But no, I’ve got no gossip. There’s some family stuff happening so I have to head home pretty much as soon as the race is over. But I needed to see everyone, it’s been almost two years and I missed them.”

“Fair.” They chatted about the season so far, studiously ignoring the controversy around the last race, until Dan arrived back to make excuses and get them to leave the party.

“Back to the hotel?”

“You read my mind.”

The car ride back was the most awkward one the two of them had ever done and Em didn’t know what to do. Usually if they were in a car alone together they’d be curled into each other or at least holding hands. But she was on her side of the SUV, Dan was on his, and the hand she’d stretched into the middle as a peace offering was ignored. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do with that. Didn’t want to know, really. All his actions did was solidify that the painful decision she’d reached was the right one. Just because things could be easy didn’t mean they were right.

When they reached their floor in the hotel Dan stopped outside her hotel room as Em waved the keycard at the lock.

“Night, Dan.”

“But I thought…”

“What?” She was sharper than she should have been, but she was jet lagged and tired and heart sore.

“I thought we’d be sharing a room.”

“Your family are two doors down and the kids are here. The chances of at least one of them knocking on my door before I want to get up in the morning are high, and I don’t want to have to explain why we share a bed when we’re not married. Do you?”

“Not particularly.”

“Exactly. I’ll see you in the morning.”

As soon as the hallway door closed behind her she double checked the lock on the adjoining door before flipping over the door lock. If she’d looked out the peephole she would have seen a confused and disappointed Dan standing in the hallway.

The next few days passed in a haze of having the kids around, working, and ignoring Zak. She knew he was the original source of the rumours the year before, he was the one who got Mazepin to start spreading that she was sleeping with all three of her boys. It was her greatest pleasure to get to tell him no, and she did it with joy.

But in between finalising as much as she could before her resignation was sent she had time to wander Melbourne alone. She loved the city. It had always welcomed her in, it was Dan’s home race and the place where she knew everyone adored him. Em wandered around a craft market, finding a jewellery maker who made gold charms and engraved them on the spot. It took her all of ten seconds to buy two and get them put on different coloured leather cords, one each for Isaac and Isabella. The front had a pair of angel wings for each of her angel kids, and the engraving on the back read love you forever, Auntie Emmy. 

Leaving her family behind was going to be the hardest part of this, and she needed to make sure that they knew just how much she loved them. Em was so aware that she was about to be the first adult to choose to walk out of their lives, and she didn’t want to do that. She didn’t want to break their hearts the way hers would break too. She just hoped that when they realised she wasn’t coming back they’d know she wanted to tell them how much she loved them.

Practice and qualifying were shit and she felt her dislike of the team growing even stronger. She didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to deal with the stupid orange team and the way that they were favouring Lando already. Dan was the one who won a race last year, not Lando. He was the one who had proven himself with podiums galore. But they didn’t care.

That night she left the door between their rooms unlocked. Her bags were half packed, her resignation email was scheduled to send and she’d triple checked the timezone on it. Em had spent the last two days hugging everyone as much as she could, surprising Chloe by popping into the Aston garage before a practice and waving to Lance and Seb as she pulled Chloe into a giant hug. Scotty got one too, trying to put the love and care she had for her best friends outside her boys into a hug. There were waves to the people she couldn’t hug because rumours would start, giving Susie a recommendation for the restaurant they all ate at the night before so she and Toto could have a family meal with Jack in privacy. The small things to make sure everyone knew she thought about them and loved them.

Em couldn’t sleep straight away. Nights before races were hard, the crashes she’d watched with her own two eyes usually playing in her head. Dan in Anthoine’s car, Dan in Grosjean’s. Dan in Lewis’s place the year before with no halo. Dan in the rain and a tractor on track. All the ways she knew people had died racing she thought about and she couldn’t deal. Her fear every time Dan slid into his seat in the car was all encompassing but racing was his first love and she could never ask him to stop.

She was about to get up and go down to Michael’s room to ask for some melatonin, but the doorknob between the two rooms rattled and clicked open quietly. Em stayed still as she was, breathing in and out steadily.

Dan slipped into the other side of the bed. If she just opened her eyes she’d be able to see him. If she reached her fingers out slightly she could touch him. It was the first time they’d shared a bed since Bahrain and being just over covid and she wanted him to hold her. Her body was screaming to curl into him and tell him she loves him and she’s his and she doesn’t want him to fall in love with anyone else because she wants him to love her. To choose her over all the models in the world he could have.

She didn’t sleep that night, too aware of his presence in the bed. She could hear his snores but she didn’t dare look up at him, didn’t dare move in case she disturbed him. He needed his sleep the night before a race.

As the morning dawned through crappy hotel curtains she could feel the vibrations from the alarm on his watch, the one he always used to try let her get some extra sleep when he needed to be up early.

Please kiss my forehead. Please, Dan. Please just give me any sign you want me to stay. Don’t leave me again.

Every morning was the same when they shared a bed. He’d delay until the very last minute to stay in the warmth and then kiss her forehead in goodbye. And then he’d leave, not content to get out from there until he made sure she knew he said goodbye.

This time he slid out of the bed without touching her, padding across the still room and going back into his. Em heard the lock slide shut on his side and rolled over, tears filling her eyes.

It hurt so much already, how was she supposed to pretend that everything was fine? How was she supposed to act normal around everyone when she wanted to scream that they were over and nothing would ever be the same again? How could she be okay when she felt like this? 

He’d left her alone. Again. He hadn’t even touched her but he’d slept in her bed and she never thought Dan could be so cruel. She never thought he’d leave her with the barest hint of his scent, that if she hadn’t been awake she wouldn’t have known he was there. The ache spread through her chest and she tried to quiet her sobs but it hurt. It hurt so, so badly.

A cold shower soothed her puffy face, getting rid of some of the usual redness while makeup did the rest. She was dressed in her usual race day gear of shorts, vans, a McLaren polo, and a Dan hat on her head by the time there was a knock on her door, Michael standing there.

“Hey, I’m heading in with Dan and Blake now. He said you’re going in with his family in an hour?” Another cut in her heart. More space between them. But she schooled her face into a smile, hoping Michael would believe everything was fine.

“Yeah. I said I wanted as much time with the kids as possible, it’s fine.  See you there?”

“See you there.”

Michael was a couple of metres away from her when she stepped into the hall, grabbing her room key from the slot just inside the door.

“Michael?” He turned and she half jogged, pulling him into a tight hug.

“What’s this for?”

“Haven’t seen you as much. You know you’re my brother, right? How lucky I am to have you as my family?”

“You’re the most annoying little sister Ems, but you’re my little sister. I’ve missed having you around.”

“Miss you too.”

She watched him walk away as step one of her goodbyes was done. The next was to go to breakfast with everyone and pretend that things were normal for the next few hours until the race was over. She could do it. She had to.

Breakfast with the extended Ricciardo clan was fun, Isabella still clinging to her and Isaac insisting on sitting beside her. She soaked up every moment she got with them, walking out to the car Dan had arranged holding Isabella on her hip.

“That’ll be you in a few years,” Michelle commented as Em struggled with the car seat buckle before getting it right. “The mother, not the cool aunt. We can swap places.”

Another stab to her already mangled heart. “I dunno. Wait and see, but I’m not sure that’s on the cards any time soon.” Considering the only man she wanted to have a child with didn’t want to be with her, it was a no.

You’ll be a good mother, Em. Plus you’ll have loads of family around.” She wanted to scream that she was leaving her family behind for good this afternoon but instead she just smiled tightly. It was too close to home. She couldn’t keep this conversation going. It hurt.

The race matched her mood. The strategy wasn’t good, the car was a tractor, and the oblique team orders to not let Dan try overtake Lando made her want to scream. The team points would be the same, but no. Not for his home race even. The crowd were amazing and let out loud cheers every time the orange car made its way around the circuit, but it wasn’t enough and Em knew it. It hurt. Her last time at a Grand Prix, her last time cheering for the man she was so deeply in love with, and the team and car had let him down again.

The plan was already to delay debrief till Monday so Dan got to spend time with his family, and Em decided to head to the airport nearly immediately. She couldn’t stay any longer. She couldn’t deal with any more hints from Michelle about a niece or nephew in the future, couldn’t listen to Grace or Joe talking about how much they’d missed her. She couldn’t spend more time with Blake and Michael without wanting to break down and tell them that they had changed her life and she wouldn’t make them choose between her and Dan.

Because that was what it came down to. She was the last one in this group that was all united by their love of Daniel Ricciardo. She was the one who loved him so deeply it hurt, the one who loved every single member of the group to the moon and to Saturn. And she loved them so much she couldn’t bear to have them walk away from her. Because that was what would happen.

Her own blood family didn’t choose her. They saw her as a disgrace, as a failure because she was thirty one years old, unmarried and without kids. They didn’t realise that she was the one who kept Dan on schedule, who organised sponsor events and filtered out the crap he and Blake didn’t need to know about. She stopped the balls from falling out of the sky. Because she was just an assistant.

And if the people who gave birth to her wouldn’t choose her, she knew the family she’d built wouldn’t either. She was never the one who was chosen, and she didn’t blame them. She was just Emma. Danny was Dan. She knew who she’d pick if given a quarter of a chance.

She’d just finished packing when the adjoining door opened, Dan walking in already speaking but stopping when he saw the case by the door, her carry on full with the edge of the orange poster getting folded in.

“Where are you going?” His tone was accusatory and she steeled herself for the argument.

“Home.”

“Emmy…”

“Don’t Emmy me, Daniel! You know I have to go back for the anniversary.” She turned to look at him, watching as confusion turned to anger.

“And I also know that’s bullshit. I’ve known you for how many years, Em? You’ve visited your parents twice. Michael was with you one of those times, the visit lasted twenty minutes and even he didn’t have anything nice to say about it. Michael. Who has a good thing to say about almost everyone. So tell me the truth, why are you leaving now? Why not get on the flight with us tomorrow?”

“Because I have to go back.”

“Don’t lie to me Em!” He raised his voice and Em gave as good as she got, staring back at him.

“You want the truth, Dan? All of it?”

“Yes! That’s all I want, it’s all I’ve ever wanted with you.”

She took a deep breath, staring into his brown eyes for the last time, soaking in that even so angry he was so beautiful. She’d had the privilege of sleeping with him for nearly four years, of loving him for three. Whoever got to do that next would be so incredibly lucky.

“You left me alone. The one thing I ever asked of you, the only thing I ever asked you to promise me was to never leave me alone. I begged you. Whatever was going on, whatever was happening with us, please don’t leave me alone. And then there were bombs flying and I watched one explode and you made me get into a car and leave. You made me stay alone, and you didn’t come back to me that night. I didn’t know what was happening. I didn’t know if you were even alive because I didn’t have my fucking phone until the next morning and all the news was in Arabic. You were gone to the track before I knew what had happened. You left. You broke your promise, Daniel.”

“I didn’t have a choice!” It was the worst thing he could have said.

“But Blake and Michael got to stay. Angela stayed with Lewis, don’t try to lie to me and tell me she didn’t. Britta stayed with Seb. You sent me away, Dan. I was sobbing and begging you to stay and you made Blake drive me away. You made me leave when I was scared.” She let her words sink into him fully. “Just leave. Get out of this room and leave.”

“Emmy…” His voice was soft and she blinked back the tears she knew she wanted to cry. Not until the airport. Not until then.

“GET OUT DAN!” She yelled at him for the first time, shock on his face. “JUST LEAVE! It’s what you’ve been doing this whole weekend, just leave.”

“Fine. Fine. If that’s what you want, I’m fucking gone. I’m done here, I’m gone. I’ll be downstairs in five for you to say goodbye to everyone.” She watched him walk through the adjoining door and lock it as Em’s heart completely broke in two. She’d ruined it. He was done. He was gone. He was leaving and she was going and she would never speak to him again because her Daniel wasn’t hers anymore. One person down, eight to go.

She brought her bags down to the lobby alone, everyone standing there waiting to say goodbye. Michael got a hug, she’d said everything she needed to earlier that day. Blake was beside him, wrapping her in a full body giant one and holding her tight.

“You know I love you, don’t you? I really love you.” Blake grinned and pulled her close again.

“Love you too, Ems. Moving beside you was the best decision I ever made.”

Saying goodbye to Michelle and Adam was hugs and whispers of seeing them for Christmas when she knew it was a lie. Grace pulled her into a hug that only a mother figure could, whispering in her ear.

“We’re coming over for Silverstone and yours and Dan’s birthdays, so we’ll see you then. We love you Em. If you need anything I’m only a FaceTime away. Don’t let them get you down when you’re with your family.”

“I love you too, Grace.”

Joe got a hug and a murmured love you, his hand patting her back soothingly. The kids were last, sulking as Em squatted down in front of them.

“So I got my angels a present to say goodbye, cause I know I didn’t get to see you lots. Want to see them?” There were identical nods and Em strapped the bracelets on, Isaac’s on a black cord and Isabella’s on a purple one.

“It matches the one I made you and Uncle Dan,” Isabella murmured as Em pulled her into a tight hug.

“It does. It’s a reminder that I love you both so very, very much. No matter how far away we are, I’m always going to love you, okay? Don’t ever, ever forget that. Pinkie promise me?” She held out her little fingers, laughing as they both enthusiastically took part in the ritual. She pulled them in for a final hug, pressing kisses to both of their heads.

“See you on winter break!” Isaac grinned as he spoke, Em putting a tight smile on her face. 

“We call it summer break, but I’ll see what we have to do then buddy.”

“Do you want a lift to the airport? I’ve got the rental?” Joe asked but Em shook her head.

“Nah, I’m good. I’ve got an Uber coming, I just want to get on the road. It’s hard enough to say goodbye to everyone I can’t drag it out much longer.”

“Fair. Love you, kiddo.”

“Love you too, Joe.” Her phone buzzed with the notification that her driver was there and she started towards the door. Dan still hadn’t come down and that was it. He didn’t love her. He didn’t feel anything like how she did because no matter what he’d said, he’d never make her leave. But she made him leave. He was gone.

She was almost at the door when an oh too familiar voice called across the lobby, running up to them. 

“I didn’t think you’d be leaving already.”

“My Uber’s outside, I need to leave.”

“Oh.” There was none of their usual hugs, none of the subtle kisses he pushed to the top of her head when they were separated. He didn’t even squeeze her fingers. It was like they were strangers. “Send a text when you get to London?”

“Yeah, sure.”

She turned to get her luggage into the car, shielding her face from everyone with her hair. The driver lifted it in and she was soon safely ensconced in the back seat, tears falling down her cheeks as she waved goodbye behind partially tinted glass.

“Was that Daniel Ricciardo?” The driver asked, Em forcing a smile.

“Yeah, I work with him.” It was true for another five hours at least.

“He seems like a good guy.”

“He’s one of the best.”

Tears streamed down Em’s cheeks the entire way to the airport, through the fancy check in area and security, and following her into her first class pod. She mostly ignored the staff apart from nodding at them, continuing to cry and wipe her eyes on tissues. The tears barely stopped until Dubai, only aided by Blake’s near constant texts as soon as her email sent.

She knew when she arrived in London that she had about twelve hours before the boys landed, Blake texting even while he was on his flights. She sent a I got back safely, receiving another flurry of responses.

Em, what’s this email about?

What’s going on?

Tell me you didn’t mean to send this

Is it the travel? Do you want to slow down? Why?

Ems we need you. How am I supposed to tell everyone you’re not coming with us anymore? Did you meet someone? Did something happen?

We’re about to land in Heathrow. Dan’s going to his place and looks miserable. I’ll be at your door in less than two hours.

When she got the final text Em grabbed the bags she’d hastily packed with clothes and the things she needed for the next eight days until the boys had left London for Imola. The address of the last minute airbnb was in her email, getting an Uber to it handy. She was long gone by the time Blake arrived, sitting in her temporary home for the next while and planning what she had to do. They’d leave England on the Wednesday, she had five days to empty her flat.

It started with an email to her landlord to give up the lease. Her family reasons excuse was accepted quickly, the landlord told she had to leave London and the apartment would be vacant from the end of the month. After that she had to start planning on where to go to.

There were too many memories in London. Nearly every street reminded her of Dan, of days walking around hand in hand to show him her London, not the tourist one he knew. The city she’d moved to at eighteen with a dream and a student loan and where she’d discovered who she was. Dan was everywhere in the city for her - memories of their first kiss in the pub she’d spent too many hours in, museums she’d dragged him to, streets he’d stolen a kiss from her at with a grin and a chuckle when they were waiting to cross the road. The cafes and greasy spoons she’d brought him to with the promise of not telling Michael. She couldn’t stay there, it was too much.

But everywhere she thought of had memories of him. Filthy weekends away when they were at home because of covid, eating out to help out and driving to Manchester or Glasgow to spend time together and have hotel sex. The midlands were completely out because of Silverstone, of memories of Enstone and the Renault factory, of Milton Keynes and his goodbye from Red Bull.

The only big city she could think of without a memory of Dan - with only one memory of her boys - was Liverpool. Which meant her parents. Which meant a conversation she never wanted to have. Calling her mother wasn’t like calling Grace. But she didn’t have Grace in her life anymore, so she had to do it.

“Emma, what country do you deign to call us from today?” Her mother answered the phone, disdain dripping from every word.

“Good morning, Mother. I’m in England. I was calling because I need to ask for a favour from you.”

“Yes?”

Em swallowed, teeing up words on her too thick tongue. “I had to leave my job, they didn’t have the funding to keep me on. I was wondering if I could move home for a few weeks while I’m applying for new jobs. I want to leave motorsports, there’s too much travelling and I want to settle down.” She hit every keyword that her mother had as she checked her bank account balance, spotting her final pay deposited in the account. It was more than healthy thanks to travelling so much for work and Dan covering that under work expenses. But she needed to be sensible, and renting somewhere without a job would be a mistake.

“You can. You will need to pay rent while you’re here.”

“Of course. Just let me know how much. It wont be for long, it’s just a few weeks. It’ll be like I won’t even be there, if I’m not interviewing I’ll be in my bedroom.”

“Fine. Let me know when you plan to arrive.” She sounded bored of the conversation already.

“I’ll be back April twenty fourth. I can send you the train details then.

“See you then.”

The difference between the call with her mother and a call with Grace just cut the wound in her chest even harder. Grace never let a call end without a million “I love you”s between them. She made sure that Em spoke to everyone in the family, and if Joe was out at the garage she took a message and told Em that he loved her. Instead her mother hadn’t even asked if Em wanted to leave a message for her father.

It felt so, so wrong.

The list of things she had to do before the boys left for Italy was beginning to shrink, but there was still so much to do. She ignored Blake and Michael’s texts, refusing to even open them. The chats were archived so the red dots didn’t irritate her. Dan didn’t send her anything at all, yet more proof that he meant everything he said in Melbourne. He was done with her. She didn’t realise that emotional pain could hurt this much. She’d never believed in soulmates, never believed in fate. She always thought that if a relationship ended she’d get through it. But now? This not quite a relationship over? It ached to her core.

Friday morning she had an appointment with a solicitor, walking in with a tear stained sheet of what she wanted to leave to different people. She’d always fought with Dan about being prepared if something happened to him, not wanting to know what he left her. She was one of the two people who could decide what medical treatment he got if he couldn’t consent. She’d cried when he told her that day in Spa when they got that tragic news what he wanted if he was in a crash like that. That he trusted her to not let him stay on machines. Some of her nightmares included his plaintive “I don’t want false hope” that made her ache.

She didn’t trust her parents to not do the same for her. They’d keep her hooked up to machines for as long as possible, they’d insist it was for “hope”. Em didn’t know what hope, but she knew them. They’d barely spoken for five years apart from occasional texts and birthday cards, they didn’t have the right to decide what happened to her.

It was a blustery Friday morning when she walked into that office and signed the papers to say Daniel Ricciardo, Blake Friend, and Michael Italiano were the people who decided what would happen if she couldn’t make her own medical decisions. She gave the lawyer the makeshift will that was handwritten and tearstained. It was simple - her cookbooks and exercise equipment to Michael because he was always trying to adapt her recipes. All but one piece of her furniture to Blake. Her CDs and DVDs to Dan, along with the coffee table he kept falling over. Her collection of Dan’s raceworn helmets to Isaac and Isabella. Dan, Grace, and Michelle were to divide her jewellery between them based on who wanted what. The rest of her belongings were to be sold and the money put in Isaac and Isabella’s college funds. It was too easy.

Even after everything that had happened, even after walking away, she trusted her boys more than she trusted anyone else in the world.

After all of that her final task was to organise her storage unit and movers. That was easiest of all if Em was honest. A call to a moving company who agreed to put everything in the unit without her there, and walking into a storage company. She signed a two year contract and paid the full rent then and there, surprising the man at the counter. Now she was able to disappear.

The texts kept coming from Blake and Michael. WhatsApp and iMessage, even a signal account she’d forgotten she had on her phone. Michael sent her instagram DMs so she deleted the app instead of trying to avoid reading them and appearing online. But finally it was Wednesday and she knew exactly when the boys were flying out of London City Airport. She’d organised the private flight for them, booked the plane and made sure the flight was as clean as possible. As soon as they’d take off her plan could start.

Walking back into her apartment felt too normal, just checking her post and finding it mostly full of letters from Blake. Get in touch, we’re worried, we miss you. Sentiments she knew he’d share but it would be easy for him to forget about her. The letters went out in recycling and she began to pack up her life.

The boxes were settled easily. Storage, donating, and Dan’s stuff. The ones for him filled quickly, clothes and accessories and things he’d left lying around the apartment that had become theirs instead of just hers. It took three boxes to get rid of the sense of him.

The storage boxes were easier, but the final thing she had to do at four that Sunday morning was decide what to do with her helmet wall. Ever since Monaco and his win, Dan had given her his race worn helmet for any new race design. She could name which race each of them was from, and in the middle was her Monza win one. McLaren had wanted it for the MTC but Dan refused to give it over, insisting it was his and he was keeping it. They got the trophy so he got the helmet. And then he put it in the middle of the IKEA shelves that they’d spent a weekend putting together and laughing.

Part of her - a large part if she was truly honest - wanted to donate them. Get rid of them for the clean break she insisted she needed. But she couldn’t. They were the good parts of the last four years, the best part of her life and the reminder that for years she got to love Daniel Ricciardo and travel the world with her best friends. Once she was settled somewhere she’d put them all back up to get her and explain to whoever asked that she was a part of Formula One for a short while, and it meant so much to her.

It took longer than she expected to get them wrapped carefully and boxed away. Two just about fit in one box, but they were light at least. When they were carefully labelled with the races, a tear falling from her eye when she wrote Monaco 2018 on a box in looping letters, she sat down to write notes to her boys. They deserved more than a resignation email and leaving without saying goodbye but if she saw them in person she wouldn’t walk away. She was barely strong enough to do that the first time. Em couldn’t do it again.

Dan’s took the longest. It started with anger. How could you make me love you when you didn’t love me back scrawled angrily, tears staining the lined pages as she wrote everything. But she couldn’t give it to him how she’d written it. She couldn’t deliberately hurt him. It wasn’t Dan’s fault that she’d fallen in love with a man who couldn’t love her back the way she wanted him to love her. It was her fifth draft, still tear stained, that was the one she was giving him.

Danny,

I’m sorry I didn’t say this in person but I couldn’t do it. We both know that things between us haven’t been working for a while. It’s nobody’s fault. I guess we just wanted different things. It happens to us all. But we’re both done and writing this is easier than another long conversation and another fight.

Go be happy. I’ll cheer you on from wherever I end up, no matter what. You’ve changed so many lives, mine included. Thank you for the amazing years and experiences. You let me do things that so few people ever get to do and I can’t thank you enough for that.

Emma

Michael and Blake’s were harder and easier. She only needed one attempt at them, trying to wipe the tears before they fell.

Blakey,

I’m sorry for leaving like this. I’m sorry for leaving you in the lurch, but I made sure that everything logistically is booked until the summer break. Just get him where he needs to be on time, you were always better at that than me.

I love you. You’re my big brother and i wasn’t going to make you choose between me and Dan, that was never going to be fair. I’ll be happy and I want you to be happy too. Find a girl and settle down or bring her around the world. I’m rooting for you the entire time.

Will you make sure everyone in the paddock knows I love them? Tell Chloe and Scotty to get their wedding planned. Chloe will be the most beautiful bride and I’m so sorry I won’t get to see her in person. Scotty will look ok, I guess.

Thank you for everything.

Love,

Ems

PS - the extra key is for my storage unit. A1 Storage in Wimbledon. Figured you’d be a good person to have it.

She folded Blake’s letter into an envelope and labelled it before writing the last one. Somehow this was the hardest, having to ask Michael to do what she couldn’t.

Mike,

I’m sorry for leaving and I’m sorry for asking you to pass a message on but I know you will. I love you so much. You made lockdown bearable even when I was being a bitch, and you made me actually enjoy exercising you cruel man.

Tell everyone that I love them and I’m sorry? You let me know exactly what a family is and how I deserve to be loved and that’s something I can never thank you enough for. Ever. I can’t make people decide between me and Dan. He wins every time and that’s how it’s supposed to be. It’s easier if I just leave.

Tell Grace and Joe I love them and I will forever be grateful for their love and support. Let Michelle know that she’s the best big sister ever. Please make sure that Isaac and Isabella know that I love them no matter what. It’s not their fault I left and I will always love them. Whoever gets to be their auntie is the luckiest person in the world and I wish it got to be me.

Tell all your family I love them, and ti voglio bene to Nadia and your Nana. I love you all so much, and I’m cheering you all on from wherever I end up.

Love,

Em

When the movers came she handed them the key to the storage unit, letting them know what to do. Everything was out of the apartment in a few moments and Em took a last look around her almost empty apartment. The memories were suffocating. Dan tripping over the coffee table, the London lockdown when they got back from Australia and they lied to Michael about what the yoga mat’s primary purpose was. The way Dan danced with her in the dark kitchen, distracting her from finding food for them in the fridge and getting them to sway in the silence. The kisses and living together like he loved her the same way she loved him.

He’d been blowing up her voicemail since Wednesday and she deleted them I listened to. The first “Emmy” hurt her too much, so she decided to practice self preservation for once. As soon as her voicemail said “you have an unlistened to voicemail from Dan” it was deleted. The same with Blake and Michael. She couldn’t do it.

Finally it was time to leave, and she carried Dan’s boxes one at a time into Blake’s apartment. The three were stacked one atop the other, the letters on top of them. Em stared at her thumb, at the moon ring that had been there since Dan bought it for her calling her his moon on dark nights. She couldn’t bear to take off the three necklace hanging on her chest, but this she had to leave behind. She wasn’t his moon, and he was too bright to be her sun.

She slipped it off and rubbed her finger against the warm gold, pushing a kiss to it before stepping back. The final thing she needed to do was leave the envelope with her medical power papers and will on Blake’s coffee table before she locked the front door and slipped his keys in his post box. It was done. She was gone.

The tube to Euston was quicker than expected and she joined the trek to the Liverpool train, settling into her seat a few minutes before they were due to pull out. Her phone lit up with a notification that the race was about to start, illuminating the photo from lockdown of her and Dan holding Isaac and Isabella. They looked like a family. Em unlocked her phone and pushed her thumb firmly down on the F1 app to delete it. A clean break.

The train pulled off exactly at two, her mind echoing Crofty’s “lights out and away we go”. Dan was in the car and racing and all she wanted was a good points finish for him. But she couldn’t check. She couldn’t let herself find out what he was doing.

Her tears fell harder as the train pulled into Milton Keynes, the memories of the last time she’d done this train journey as Dan’s plus one. His leaving Red Bull party, staying in a hotel with him the week before they flew to Perth for Christmas. It was the only time she’d gotten to visit the impressive Red Bull factory. Meeting Max properly, Christian cornering her with his wife - and keeping her cool around Geri fucking Halliwell - to ask if she could convince Dan to come back. Getting whisked away from Helmut quickly when he tried to speak to her, meeting the mechanics and team that she’d seen at several races properly for once. Yet another place she could never visit again because all she’d think about was Dan.

Em made herself stop crying shortly after, pushing a cold bottle of water to her eyes. She couldn’t be red eyed or puffy seeing her parents. It was bad enough returning with her tail between her legs. She didn’t know if she’d survive the I told you so.

*

When Dan got out of the car in Imola he knew what he had to do. His first stop was being weighed and getting his slip, Mike pushing one of those AG1 drinks into his hand to down to get electrolytes and water back into him. After that it was media rounds, apologising to Carlos, and doing media. Once the debrief was finished it was London. He needed to get to Emmy. For the second time he’d gotten on a plane when he should have been with her and he needed to apologise. Needed to make things right.

“The jet will be ready when we finish? I need to get back to London tonight.” Michael handed him a McLaren branded shirt and pair of skinny jeans to put on once he was out of the shower.

“It’ll be ready. Mate, you need to know that she might not want—“

“She’ll see me. It’s Em. She’s my Emmy. She’s going to see me and I’m going to tell her everything. I can’t do this without her. I can’t. I dunno how I did it before.”

“Ok. Go shower and head out.”

The debrief was painful. Lando on the fucking podium, Dan last. They wrote off his technical debrief after the collision. It was clear Dan couldn’t have done anything, and the rest of his race was nothing to write home about. He should have just retired. It was shit and he just had to listen to how Lando had a flawless race and was extracting the most out of the tractor McLaren had built. He had to wait until it was over, half listening and taking notes while stewing.

All he could think about was Emmy. He hadn’t reached out because he thought she needed space, wanted time. He’d had the fucking ring in his pocket in the hotel room and then they’d fought and he couldn’t exactly get on one knee and ask her to marry him after that. But now she was gone and she’d been gone for weeks and he didn’t know. He needed her to be ok. He needed to go home and see her on the couch and beg for her forgiveness because he was hers. His apartment was so fucking lonely, driving in and out of the factory without seeing her. Without going to sleep curled up beside her and waking up with the fairy lights glowing as she read whatever dog eared book she was rereading that month.

The voicemails were being listened to. Her inbox went from full to empty and he kept texting, determined to get through to her. Needing her to talk to him. To say anything at all. People kept asking where she was, he laughed it off and gave the excuse of family stuff. Natalie had nodded and said she hoped Em would be back soon. Chloe had looked at him oddly when she heard the excuse but he shrugged and moved on. The elder Stroll could be terrifying and he didn’t want to get on her bad side. Not even Scotty could save him from that.

There was nothing he could do but wait to be freed. The moment they were able to break - after Dan apologised to the mechanics for the job they’d have to do on the car - he was on his way to the driver room. Blake and Michael were already there with bags packed and ready to go.

It was a two hour flight to London and they landed at nine. After forcing their way through traffic in a black cab it was after nine thirty by the time they arrived at Blake and Em’s building. Dan stepped out of the car and grabbed his bags, heading straight upstairs to the two identical doors. He didn’t realise when it became more normal to stand in front of Em’s door than Blakes, but it had years before. He knocked twice to no response.

“Em? I’ve got my key, I’m coming in.”

The lock turned easily with the familiar key and Dan set his bags down to flick the light switch. What he saw terrified him.

The room was empty. The couch that killed his back, the coffee table his shins hated, gone. The bookshelves and the kitchen table they’d spent a lockdown day building, gone. Her helmet collection was missing. Em had once told him that if the building went on fire she would save whichever helmets she could. If they were gone, she was gone.

He ran to her bedroom but everything was missing. The fairy lights they’d taped up with double sided tape. Her bed. The throw cushions he laughed about. Even the case at the bottom of her wardrobe with the lingerie he’d bought her was gone. Her pink boots weren't there. It was like nobody had lived there for years. He couldn’t even smell her perfume in the air.

“Dan?” He hadn’t realised tears were streaming down his face when he turned to see his best mates standing in the doorway. “Mate, you need to see this.”

He followed them back to Blakes, pausing to lock Emmy’s front door. She had to come back. The idea that she wouldn’t come back was impossible.

Until he saw the boxes.

Three of them, neatly stacked almost up to Blake’s chest. There were three envelopes on them, and a glint of gold on top of one. He nearly ran to it, ignoring the post race soreness going through his body to see the ring he’d given her sitting on top of the one neatly labelled Daniel.

She’d used his first name. Emmy never used his first name unless something was wrong. He’d fucked up so badly that he didn’t want to open it.

Instead he held the ring firmly in his palm, the metal cold against his hand. She was there. She had been there and now she was gone and he didn’t know what to do. But instead he followed what Blake and Michael had done and opened his letter.

It was how impersonal it was that killed him. Em was done. She’d be fine. Thanking him for bringing her around the world and letting her work with him. She didn’t want another fight and she thought he was done with her.

She didn’t love him like he loved her and for a brief moment that made him want to die. The moments they’d shared, the times they’d said they loved each other. The times he’d held her and traced I love you down her back or against her clit when he was eating her out, desperate for her to know but too afraid to say it. The 'y’know, right?'. Everything from the last nearly four years. None of it had ever mattered because she wouldn’t have married him. He had her ring in his fucking ever present backpack and thank God he hadn’t tried to propose because she’d have said no and he’d have been humiliated.

“I guess you were right. Buying the ring was a mistake.”

His choked voice broke the silence, but it was Michael who got the next sentence in, cutting off Blake’s question about the ring.

“Mate, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“She doesn’t love me like I love her. I was wrong. I just got my heart broken so please, don’t rub it in right now?”

“Did you read any of what she wrote?”

“Yeah. She’s done. She thanked me for letting her travel with us. Like she didn’t earn her place. She signed it Emma. I was wrong, ok? I was wrong and I can’t take you rubbing it the fuck in when I think Im gonna break.”

“What happened? Because the two of you were fine in Bahrain, and then after Saudi she disappeared and skipped Perth, and she was barely in Melbourne. What happened with you?” Blake was the one who asked, Dan flopping on the couch beside him. He held out his much shorter letter for them to read.

“Things were weird when we got back after Christmas. Then we had covid and got through it. And Saudi fucking happened. With everything going on and keeping her safe I didn’t see her till after the race and she was already leaving. And in Melbourne we… We had a fight.” The memories of what he’d said were circling again, the anger between them, Em telling him to leave again. Him walking away.

“We thought that much. You didn’t even hug her goodbye.”

“She told me to leave!”

“In self preservation.” Michael’s voice was low and Dan was almost afraid of his best friend. “She said she didn’t want to make us choose between you and her, that she knew we’d pick you. So she left. I have to tell your fucking family she’s gone, by the way. She asked me to. So you’re going to tell me everything that’s happened between the two of you and we’re going to fix this. What the fuck did you do?”

He wanted to be annoyed that he was being blamed but he couldn’t blame the boys. So he let everything out.

He told them about wanting to kiss her in Blake’s that first night, of Monaco and their agreement that it was over once she left Monaco. Coffee and Silverstone and her birthday drinks. Spa and I love you when they were faced with the reality of what could happen with his job again. Em begging him to never leave her behind, that no matter what he wouldn’t leave her alone. Her dick of an ex who’d destroyed her self-esteem and meant she lost her friends. The meaning of 'Y’know, right?', the phrase that had been their mantra since 2019. That he hadn’t slept with anyone else since he’d met her because he just knew she was supposed to be his. That he’d bought the ring when they spent Christmas 2020 together but was just waiting for the right moment. And then in Saudi she’d been sobbing and he sent her away. He made Blake take her away from him. From them. He’d broken his fucking promise and again in Australia he walked away when he should have stayed in that room.

She’d picked the fight. She’d picked it so she’d be left alone and leave and the realisation of how well she fucking knew him hurt so much. She knew him like the palm of her hand and for a minute he forgot about it.

“Let me get this straight. You’ve known just how shit her family is for longer than any of us, and I’m the only one who’s actually met them. She asked for exactly one thing from you which was don’t leave her alone. And in Saudi, one of the countries she’s most scared of being away from us for any length of time, you made her go back to the hotel and stay there on her own. She begged you to stay and was sobbing and you left her to cry when she asked you to stay? I could fucking punch you right now.” He nodded at Michael’s words, shame filling every cell in his body.

“You made us leave her alone.” Blake spoke and Dan thought he was going to be sick. “In Melbourne. The morning of the race. 'Em’s going with my parents. She wants family time.' She didn’t know she was going with them, did she? Why?”

“She… I… No. We weren’t ok. I didn’t know if I could be in the car with her. Not after that night.”

“What happened?”

“I… Fuck. She kept the door between our rooms locked that whole week. But Saturday night it wasn’t locked. I had a habit of just trying it, just in case. It was open and I went in. I just lay down on the edge of the bed and watched her sleep for a while before falling asleep. I left before she woke up. She didn’t know, she was asleep the whole time.”

“You think our Ems was asleep for a full night before a fucking race? Are you an idiot? Did you get brain damage in that crash today? She doesn’t fucking sleep! You slept in the same bed as her for four fucking years and you don't know that? She’s into me for melatonin every damn night because she can’t sleep worrying about you. She was awake that entire night and you left her without saying a goddamn word and then you abandoned her again. Again, Dan. Don’t tell me you did something stupid and cheated on her like her fucking ex.”

“I never cheated. I haven’t touched another woman.” The thought made him sick. “I’m not that asshole. You know I’m not.”

“I don’t mean to be funny Dan. She lived beside me for nearly five years. She’s my friend. And now her apartment is for rent, your shit is here, and she’s told us all goodbye and to give messages to the people she loves. So you might not have cheated on her, but you broke her. It took us four years to help Em feel like herself again and put her pieces back together and you broke her.” Blake was opening another envelope mixed in with the post on his coffee table that Em had left in as he spoke, eyes widening slightly. Before he could get the words out Michael had to.

“You’re telling your family, by the way.” His voice was solid, a way Dan had never heard before. “She asked me to tell them but I can’t. I can’t break those kids hearts and tell them their auntie Emmy loves them forever but she can’t see them again. I can’t tell your sister that she’s lost a sister, and I can’t tell your parents that you ran off the woman they want you to marry. That the woman your mum teaches family recipes to had to leave, because you fucked up that much. You know she’s their second daughter, right? Even before whatever the fuck you’ve been doing started they adored her. From Monaco. Em’s lost the only decent mother she’s ever had because of you. She didn’t want to make us choose but if she was here right now I’d choose her over you any day.”

“If you think she doesn’t love you, read this.” Blake held out a package of papers, Dan skimming them.

Everyone in his line of work was familiar with leaving a will behind. The fucking academies basically demanded it at this point. He’d put Emmy on his own medical power of attorney form after Spa, told her what he was leaving her when she was ready for that conversation after Roman nearly died in Bahrain. 

But Emma wasn't racing cars every weekend, so she didn't need the papers she signed. She didn't need to leave a will behind, but his name was there to make decisions for Em. She’d left him specific things. The cold fear snaked up his spine, tightening around his lungs and making it hard to breathe.

“She wouldn’t. She won’t do anything stupid. It’s Em, she wouldn’t.” The words came out as a rush but certain. She wouldn’t hurt herself. God, he couldn’t live with himself if she did.

“It’s probably just a precaution. But Jesus Christ, Dan. She’s gone. We have no idea where she is, we don’t even know what country she’s in. We don’t know what kind of head start she has and with the amount of frequent flier miles she has she could be anywhere. We can probably cross off here and Australia, but that doesn’t take away much.” 

“I need to leave.” Dan turned to see Michael pick up his bag. “I’ll call you when I’m ready to talk. I’ll email you workout plans. She’s my fucking sister, Dan. She’s my little sister and I trusted you knew what you were doing with her. She said goodbye to me and I didn’t even know. You… I can’t look at you right now. I’m this close to quitting too because I don’t know you anymore. The Dan I grew up with? He would have said something. He wouldn’t make the woman he kept saying he was going to make his wife run away. He wouldn’t make her feel unloved. Just work out what you’re going to do. I’ll be on the plane to Miami but I don’t know if I’ll see you before then.” Dan watched as his oldest friend, the man he’d known since primary school, who’d supported him through thick and thin, walked out of the apartment into the London night.

“She’s gone. She’s really gone and she’s not coming back. I… I have to find her, Blake. I can’t do this without her.”

“You need to work out what you’re doing. You need to tell your family she’s gone. You need to do your job. We’re all hurting right now and yeah your heart is breaking. But its my job to do tough love and tell you that you need to work first and then think about her.” He stared at Blake in shock. “I’m pissed. But work first. Em somehow managed to take everything off my plate when she was leaving, because she didn’t want to make things hard on me. Go home, Dan. I have to call Chloe Stroll and tell her Em’s not coming back.”

“Not yet. Please. Let me f—“

“I’m telling her. You can hide it from the media, from your family, whatever. Chloe is Em’s best friend outside us. Do you really think she hasn’t tried calling Em already? Really?” Dan nodded once. “Go home. Your place, not the empty apartment next door you called home. Go home and get your shit together. Em would kill you if you fucked up a race over her.”

Dan got an Uber on his phone, taking his bags downstairs along with his letter from Em. He slipped the moon ring onto his little finger, settling it just above the sun. He needed her back. He just didn’t know how to find her.

[carolmunson]

you keep me without chains | em.

this is a re-post of a ramble fic of me processing some stuff i've been through and am struggling with in my own healing. if you're familiar with my 'bad at feelings' series, it's in a similar vein of writing except eddie is incredibly soft and sweet to reader who is going through her own stuff. eddie sucks here, i don't think it's a correct characterization of him but it's just me using him as a placeholder.

originally, i didn't want to put this story in the tags because it's sad and explores the mindset of someone in a non-physically abusive relationship. however, since it is DV awareness month, i wanted to make sure to express that if there are people reading this who are struggling that they aren't alone and there are people there that understand and support them. and also that if there are younger readers reading (still eighteen plus!) who aren't sure if they are in an abusive relationship they are maybe able to get some context via fiction. my inbox is always open. DV Hotline US: 800-799-7233 DV Hotline UK: 0808 2000 247 tw: 18+ mindors dni, references to emotional and psychological abuse, minor threats of physical violence.

he left this morning with a kiss on your cheek and your lips, a nuzzle against your temple when you gave him two thermos's, one with hot black coffee and the other with the beef stew you made last night. hot hot hot. the way he likes it.

you made bread, so crisp on the outside, pillowy soft on the inside. he groaned when he popped it in his mouth at the dinner table, soaked in broth and butter. you warmed some in the oven when you put his lunch together, wrapping it in foil to trap the heat -- maybe it'll keep until his lunch hour. he might eat it all before his lunch hour. he never eats breakfast really.

you clean the counters and do the laundry while he's away. no kids to take care of, not yet at least. you mend his spare coveralls, treating the grease and oils stains, resewing his name tag stiched in red thread. you shine your mary janes and stilettos, shine his doc's just to be nice. you fix his patches on his vest from the last show he went to. you clean the stubble out of the sink in the bathroom.

he has the car so there's nowhere to go.

you shower, you do your hair, put make up on, go through the motions while he's not home. he hates to wait for you to do it but you hate looking tired when you're out and about. better to do it when he's busy doing something else.

next door neighbor is heading to the library, knocks on your door to see if you wanna come with. she just wants you to get out of the house for once, stop playing wife to a man who hasn't married you yet.

you hesistate, wanting to be home in time to make dinner, but you can't imagine the library taking too long so you go. she looks at you with a strained pity that you can't stand. he doesn't hit you, so why does she even look at you like that? he'd never do that. he just got back from all that shit with a few screws loose. he never knows what he means when he says it.

he's always sorry. y'know? he's always sorry. sorta.

doesn't hit you but you know how the day will go by the way he says good morning. by the way he wakes up with you -- or without you. know how the night will go by the way he breathes when he comes in through the storm door. by the cadence of his steps on the metal stairs. by the way the van pulls in.

sometimes things break and that's fine cause he just replaces them. he knows he shouldn't have thrown it, he knows he shouldn't have tossed it, he knows. he knows. that's why he gets it the very next day. new plates, new house phone, new coffee pot, new records, new casettes, new picture frames, new flower pots. he doesn't throw them at you. he's only punched the wall twice. he slams his head against it all the time. cause he knows he's not good. he knows. you go to the library and check out some books, laugh at your neighbors jokes, tell her about your weekend in the city visiting his friends. he held your hand in front of everyone and pulled you onto his lap, he joked with you and you laughed the whole time. you went to see a band play that you'd never heard of and he got you a t-shirt and the next morning you all went out for hot chocolate and breakfast and he kissed the whipped cream off your lips and ran his thumb over your engagement ring over and over. he never stopped calling you baby. so charming. so perfect. you don't know what you did to earn it, but you've been chasing it ever since. modeling that week's behavior into this one. tip toes through the tulips of the trailer. jagged. shell like.

you get home from the library and lunch, she even stops with you when you mention you have to go to the grocery store. out of eggs for meatloaf, needed some canned string beans for one of the sides.

it's the best dinner you've made in a while and the mashed potatoes are double whipped and extra buttery because he can never get enough of them. you know that it's little things like that. you love the smile he gets when you tell him you do some things just for him, so blushy and boyish.

'that's so nice, baby,' he gushes, 'thinkin'a me.' and god he gushes. cries when he can't contain it. saw you in a new dress and wiped his eyes. new hair cut sent him into orbit.

so pretty.

you're so beautiful, i don't deserve you.

you're gorgeous i -- i can't even like, think.

presents on your birthday. handwritten notes with tear drops washing over the ink in a wave, blurry letters blue and black, black and blue. he'd never hit you. too in love. too bursting with affection when he looks at you. too nervous when you look at him when he takes you out. when he plays a show. when he sees you get dressed into your pjs at night. you're so good to me. especially when you hold him through those nightmares. when you calm his anxiety, those deep breath panic attacks. the ones that the meds miss when he misses them. you're patient through the mood swings and he always says thank you. he always says it -- you're the only one that understands him. that sees him. sometimes you don't get it. that's what he says at least. you don't get it and that makes him upset. but you're not sure what there is to get. and you try not to get sad about it -- 'bout anything really 'cause you're not the one who got a few screws knocked loose. nothing bad like that happened to you. i mean, sure, maybe some bad things happened to you but not like the way bad things happened to him, right? you wouldn't get it. but he gets you, he tells you all the time. he gets you so well. symbiotic. the only person who knows you, the only person whose been in your skin -- right? at least that's what he says, and he's said it so long you can't help but believe it.

your eyes fall on the newly vased roses he bought you two days ago from the florist near the shop. bright red petals opened and fat, contrasting against the pea green of the walls. you smile at them while you pour gravy over each plate, extra on his mashed potatoes. he kissed you this morning, he was almost late leaving the house -- couldn't stop kissing you. couldn't stop looking at you with those brown eyes, sparkling with a mischief saved for tonight.

the van rolls in as you set the table, still in your outfit from earlier, the books you checked out on the counter need the flowers. the storm door opens off kilter, your throat constricts. you know by the way he doesn't say anything when he comes in the house. work boots kicked off with loud thumps. his jacket swishing with a thwap when he throws it with a grunt to the ground. something bad must've happened at work. 'hey honey,' you say quietly, 'got dinner for you.'

you know better, watching him turn the corner into the dinette, looking down at you from where he stands and you sit. you hold a mug full of orange juice on the table, fingers tapping on it silently while he holds his gaze. 'you goin' somewhere, dressed up like that?' he asks, there's nothing behind those sparkling eyes now. dulled out to hollow brown.

'no,' you shrug, you know how to coreograph your responses now -- still stepping on his toes sometimes, 'went to the library with gina, she just wanted a friend for some errands.'

'you know gina doesn't like me,' he nods, walking to the fridge to grab a beer, 'she doesn't like us together. she hates me.'

'she doesn't hate you, ed,' you assure, voice still calm, mediating, 'no one hates you.'

'your folks hate me, your sister hates me,' he nods, curls bouncing while he takes a swig, like it's normal conversation. so steady, 'you think they like that i got you ever here in this trailer park?'

'my parents don't ha--'

'they do.' and that's final. you don't argue. and he's right. your parents don't like him and that's why you don't call anymore, and they stopped calling you too. so did all your friends from back home.

'so what'd gina tell you about me today, then?' he presses.

'nothin'," you shrug, 'we didn't talk about you.'

'of course not,' he laughs but it's one that sends a chill under your skin, a laugh to not seem so mean when you know he's about to be, 'she was prob'ly tryna set you up with someone. that's why you got all dressed up right? anything to look good for other guys out there.'

's'cuse me?' 'you heard me,' he nods, voice still steady like nothing's wrong, 'that's why you wore all those tight jeans in the city last weekend, right? those dresses? tryna show off to harrington and the guys. don't act like i didn't notice.'

'what are you talking about? why didn't you say anything when we were there?' you heart rate quickens, you try not to get mad.

'i shouldn't have to. but that's how you are, y'know?' he shrugs, another swig, another chuckle, 'makin' dinner and everything, you must've been out there makin' eyes at everyone if you made my favorite.'

'i wasn't doing that,' you urge, voice raising, tears threatening to pool, 'i just made it cause you like it, cause it makes you happy.'

'so you just do anything to make sure i don't get mad? do you even know why you do stuff like this for me?' he asks.

'what are you even saying?' your voice raises again, a mild yell. you're frazzled now, heart racing, head already scrambled.

'don't yell, what're you -- fuck babe, see! this is why gina doesn't like me,' he grits through his teeth, 'cause you're always making a scene over nothing. you're over fuckin' reacting.'

'i --' your voice catches in your throat, quieting, 'i'm sorry? i'm sorry.'

'd'you even know what you're sorry for?' he nearly sneers, 'always sayin' your sorry over nothing. y'know somethin' babe, sorry loses it's meaning when you're sayin' it all the time. it doesn't mean anything from you anymore.'

you nod, losing your resilience, too confused about how quickly you got here -- and he's right. you're always apologizing but half the time you don't even know what you're apologizing for. just that you feel like you need to be sorry. like you need to say sorry.

he holds that stare on you like he's waiting for you to speak again. daring you to say something. you stare down at the wood grain of the table, blank and empty -- numb, even. the mug between your hands is warm from how hard you were gripping the ceramic to keep you grounded.

's'what i thought,' he nods, voice a low rumble while he makes his way to the bathroom.

he'd never hit you.

the slam of the bathroom door makes you flinch.

sometimes you wish he would. maybe it would hurt less than this. at least that physical pain fades, right? at least it wasn't the same dull ache on a bruise that won't go away. are you hemmorhaging? do you just not feel it yet? will it be too late when you do?

he slides into bed with you at night after spending the rest of the evening out back with the other couples and families that were smoking ribs, having a little fire out in the brush. he smells like cigarettes. you could hear his grizzly laugh through the windows while you laid in the dark of your bedroom. too tired after the way he spoke to you to do anything else. everyone's favorite mechanic loverboy in the park.

you feel his fingertips on your shoulder, one of them gliding down the slope of your arm. he presses his lips to your shoulder blade, your eyes shut -- blearing with tears from that dull ache.

'dinner was really good, baby,' he says softly, a whisper.

you try to get out a thank you but it becomes a choke, a sniffle, a gasp. then a cry and then a harder one, remembering how he rolled his eyes at you two weeks ago when you cried after he threw out the love letter you wrote him for your four year anniversary because 'you didn't mean any of that shit anyway'.

he sits up, shushing you softly while his hand smooths over your bicep.

'what is it, sweetheart?' he asks, 'are you mad at me?'

you shake your head no. looking up at him, lying flat on your back. he looks so handsome in the moonlight, concerned eyes and tilted head peering down at you. 'n-no, ed. m'not mad at y-you,' you push out, head still scrambled. you feel guilty about last weekend, about going out today. what if guys really were looking? you know you weren't looking at them but what if they got the wrong idea? gina doesn't know what she's talking about, she's always hated ed. ever since they were kids.

'you just havin' one of your moments?' he asks, soothing voice, 'yeah?' one of your moments. always just one of your moments. couldn't be him, you're just -- maybe you're over thinking it.

'yeah,' you nod, 'm'sorry i went out with gina, baby i -- she didn't say anything bad about you.'

'it's okay,' he smiles, 'm'not mad at you. never mad at my girl.'

'no?' you ask, swallowing hard -- your heart leaps. he's not mad. maybe he just had a rough day.

'no doll, m'never mad at you. you always think i'm mad at you,' he says, thumb brushing away the tears that threatened to roll down the sides of your face to your hair line, 'you need me to kiss it better?'

another sob rips through you, nodding, because you do. you need it. and you sort of hate that you need it. you hate yourself for needing it. but he kisses you and it does feel better. he knows how to kiss you just right, he always has. he knows just where to put his hands. just how to pull away and brush his nose against yours. how to kiss your forehead between affirmations. smooth and understanding, like a movie scene. his kisses are his apologies. his sorry. you accept it every time.

because he doesn't hit you and he never would. in the morning, when the bathroom door slams so hard the walls vibrate, you flinch.

[honeyhwaaa]

counting raindrops

seonghwa x reader

genre: heavy angst, comfort/slight fluff

summary: it was never supposed to happen. you were sure god meant to take you, not hongjoong.

warnings: character death, car crash, mentions of blood, self-doubt, reader is depressed, mentions of reader dying

word count: 1.6k

note: thank you so much for all the love on my first two posts! happy reading!

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

for as long as you've known seonghwa, it was always him and hongjoong. they were brothers, and you could have sworn hongjoong was seonghwa's soulmate - in every sense of the word.

you never minded hongjoong being around, you loved when he would come over late in the evening to entertain you and seonghwa about whatever work, school, or friend drama he had. he was like a kid of your own - despite him being older than you - and you wouldn't have had it any other way.

although seonghwa had always been protective of you when you were around his other members, he never worried about hongjoong, and often asked him to watch over you in times of his absence. you had grown highly fond of the short man, just as seonghwa had many years ago. even though you had seonghwa's heart, hongjoong was just as present in it as you were.

it was a stormy night when hongjoong had texted you asking for a ride home. seonghwa was fast asleep, his phone on silent not alerting you of hongjoong's consistent calls and text messages. you briefly woke seonghwa to let him know that his best friend was stuck at the studio, and you were to pick him up. gently kissing seonghwa's head and whispering an "i love you," you grabbed a spare coat and your keys, and you were out the door.

arriving at the studio almost thirty minutes after, hongjoong runs out of the building with his jacket over his head, already soaking and desperate to seek the warmth of your car.

"thank you so much y/n, hwa wasn't answering his phone and i was praying you were awake," he says while quickly hopping in the passenger seat.

"of course joong, i'm always happy to help," you say, giving him a smile before turning the heater up, and slowly driving off to hongjoong's apartment.

the rain had gotten so bad the roads were starting to flood. you could hardly see the road in front of you, driving very cautiously and turning your hazards on.

"you might be home later than you wanted to be hong," you say, keeping your eyes on the road, acknowledging his little hum he lets out. "that's okay," he says, "as long as we both get back safe it'll be alright."

you should have had a feeling something bad was going to happen, hell maybe you shouldn't have been driving at all. before getting a chance to respond, you see are bright lights seemingly coming straight for your car. trying to veer to the right to get out of the way, your car seems stuck in the flooded streets. reaching over to brace hongjoong for the impact, everything went black.

waking up drenched in water and blood wasn't what you thought was going to happen. the car had flipped upon impact, your side almost completely smashed in. trying to break free of the restraints of the seatbelt, you look over to see hongjoong's seatbelt is almost broken. he's hanging, the seatbelt being the only thing keeping him in one place.

getting out of the seatbelt, you reach over to try and undo hongjoong's. with a firm tug it breaks, and hongjoong falls to the bottom of the flipped car. he's not moving, at all, and his body looks lifeless as he lays in the shattered glass and blood that's all over the car.

you push hongjoong's body out his window, barely being able to do it yourself due to the confined space of the car. after he's out, you follow suit. seeing flashes of blue and red coming toward you, you drag hongjoong to the end of the car, panicking as he still hasn't moved.

when ems arrive, you drop to your knees with a face void of emotion as the paramedics pronounce hongjoong dead.

at around 4 am, seonghwa is frantically awoken by his members banging on his and your apartment. pulling himself out of bed with his bones feeling as heavy as lead, he trudges to the front door.

"seonghwa hyung! open up!" is what seonghwa hears with banging following. sleepy but able to tell the voices are panicked, he opens the door to find all his members but hongjoong.

"hyung, we've been calling you for over an hour!" yunho says, his voice wavering slightly. all the members have their heads downcast, and seonghwa thinks maybe they've done something stupid.

"it's y/n and hongjoong, hwa," yeosang starts, "they're in the hospital."

arriving at the hospital with heavy hearts, seonghwa desperately asks the receptionist where you and hongjoong are.

"i'm only seeing an y/n l/n, no kim hongjoong, i'm sorry sir. but she's on the third floor," the receptionist says, and the members panic hearing their captain isn't here.

rushing to the third floor, everyone begins looking for your room. upon finding it, seonghwa bursts in, the members behind him. you're laying in the hospital bed, many wires and machines hooked up to you along with the cast that you sport on your left arm.

"oh baby," seonghwa whispers, walking up to your sleeping form, "she's alright," a voice interrupts. a doctor walks in, holding a clipboard and a nurse behind him.

"she had some internal bleeding, but we performed a short surgery not too long ago to fix that. she's broken her arm, but overall she's okay," the doctor says.

"where's hongjoong?" san injects, "she was with another person in the crash, but i'm afraid the other passenger didn't make it," the doctor says, before walking out. the nurse checks a few of the machines you're hooked up to, before walking out with her head low.

two months had passed since hongjoong's pure soul was taken off the planet. two months had passed and you had hardly spoken a word to anyone, seonghwa included. hongjoong's passing affected everyone, but you're almost certain it affected you more than seonghwa.

although he was heartbroken that his other half had passed on, seonghwa's never ending positive attitude seemed to help the other members grieve with ease. there wasn't a day that went by since the accident that you hadn't seen seonghwa with a smile on his face. he wanted to remember his best friend in the happiest way possible.

you on the other hand, were struggling greatly. you were the one driving when the truck had hit you, and you felt as if god had taken the wrong person. the truck impacted your side directly, so how was it that hongjoong had taken the punishment?

disregarding your cold attitude, seonghwa had been with you every day since that dreadful night. he tried his absolute best to get you to understand that it wasn't your fault, that it was just an accident. his words went in one ear and out the other though, and you quickly fell severely depressed, shutting yourself out from everyone, even your beloved boyfriend.

the only thing you found comfort in was the rain, as ironic as it is. the rain had reminded you of hongjoong - not of the accident - but hongjoong and his spirit which you were sure was with you sometimes.

seonghwa walks into the living room, seeing you sitting near the window, admiring the rain. carefully walking up to you, he squats down in front of you.

"my love, i think it's time we talk about this," he says softly, moving to rest his hands on your legs. looking down at him, you're silent for a moment. "there's nothing to talk about seonghwa, hongjoong's gone. i know it was my fault, and i'd rather we didn't speak about it," you say rather defensively, unaware of seonghwa's watering eyes.

"it wasn't your fault sweetheart. i can see how much this has been affecting you, and i really think we need to talk about it," he pushes, gently trying to persuade you.

without saying a word, you ponder for a moment. hongjoong's death has been the only event thus far in your life that has pushed you to shutdown as aggressively as you had. maybe it would relieve some of the pent up stress and aggravation you had toward yourself if you finally discussed it.

seonghwa led you to the couch, sitting on the opposite side, but facing you. he lets out a long sigh, containing his tears and composing himself before speaking.

"baby, there was nothing you could do to stop the accident. you know that. it was nothing more than just a stupid and unlucky accident, and whether or not you believe me, his death is not your fault," he says.

"it should have been me, hwa. not joong. he had a whole life ahead of him, and it was ripped from him," you finally sob, bringing your knees to your chest, feeling hopeless.

"i never want to hear you say anything like that again y/n, do you hear me?" he voices, quickly moving to console you in his arms. "neither one of you should have been put in harms way. i know it isn't fair that he isn't here, but love you can't blame yourself anymore, please," he says as his tears fall, and you wipe them away before looking at him.

"how do you not hate me, hwa?" you ask, genuinely questioning him since all you've done is hate yourself the last two months. "sweetheart, i could never hate you, especially not over something that you had no control over," he follows, while bringing you closer in his arms.

"i love you so much hwa, and i'm so so sorry," you say, leaning to burry your head in the crook of his neck. "i love you too honey, you don't need to apologize, i just need you to forgive yourself, okay? that's all i need you to do," he says while rubbing your back.

"okay hwa, i can do that, i promise," you counter, while leaning up to kiss him, both of you letting your tears of sadness and of understanding fall freely from your eyes.

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

i'm not really sure where i was going with one lmao, but i like how it turned out. pulled on my heartstrings so much though! thank you all for reading ! <3

[katerinaptrv]

I read that some people are saying that Babe was harsh with Charlie in their time together, but he really was not, the thing is that Babe struggles to express his feelings because of all the trauma he's been through. And he loved Charlie so much that scared him.

So, sometimes when he said things to him, he would say in a way to not appear that much emotional. But he said a lot of things in between the lines and Charlie understood him.

When he says in episode 1:

I didn’t say I was letting you get back? Follow me.

He is saying to Charlie that he did not want this between them to end, he wanted to be with him and he keeps saying in different ways in the next episodes.

You have gone all day, I might have to call to invite you to come back (episode 2).

It’s 4321. The password for the door.

He tells him he worries and does not want him to get hurt even when they are fighting:

Are you okay? Where does it hurt? Let’s go to the hospital. (he would have take him here despite his race if Charlie did not convince him otherwise)

And you had a full body x-ray yet? Anything broken?

I haven’t dealt with you yet. How did you think of that? My car accident, that's it, I'm okay. Car has safety. I also have a fire protection suit. But you run down without protection, are you crazy? (do not risk your life for me, what if something had happened, what i will do?)

Babe opens up about his past and Charlie, who is very open with his feelings, gives him a declaration about caring and valuing him in the future. To what Babe responds:

Is that so? Then I will wait and see. If you want to stay here for a long time. Keep trying to make me soft hearted.

He is telling him he is giving him a chance and asking him to not do anything that forces him to wish him away.

We can see the evolution of it to what he says to him after their last fight when he finds out all the true:

I won’t break up with you. But I invite you to pay your life's entire karma. You have to take care of me.

Here he is saying to Charlie he wants to spend the rest of his life with him.

And the most heart breaking one now, when Charlie tells him about his powers and offers to giving back to him by dying he immediately says back:

Don’t joke like this Charlie, don’t think ** pause ** that even if i don’t have any sense left, i’m Pit Babe. Any special abilities are not necessary.

Here he's telling him to not even think about this, i can live without my abilities but not without you. I don’t want them back, not at that price.

So, yes, Babe never said to Charlie he loved him with these exact words, but he said it any way he managed to do at the time. And Charlie understood him, he knows Babe loves him. But Charlie has trauma of his own by being raised hearing he had no value, so he does not value his life and does not know how much Babe values it.

PS: In the first episodes Babe would say somethings that could be considered mean to him to counteract his actions, like, he brings him to the garage em ep 1 (what he never did to anyone before) then says to him to enjoy it now because he could not come back, but watches him and smiles at his excitement every time Charlie is not looking at him. I found this pretty funny, how he contradicts himself all the way in the first episodes, he would say to him you can’t do that or i won’t do that and then he would let him do it or do it himself. Actually thinking of making a post with gifts of these moments.

[sprintingowl]

Playtesting Your TTRPG

So, you've built your own system, or a module for an existing system, or even a set of houserules you want to share with people. What do you do next?

Often, but not always, the next step is to playtest it.

Real quick though, three disclaimers:

-Playtesting isn't always possible. If you can't playtest something, you can't playtest it. That's okay.

-Also, rigorous playtesting isn't always possible. If you can playtest your game a little but you can't dump 100+ hours into it, that's also okay. Do what you can.

-Finally, there's no definitive one right way to playtest. What I'm sharing is my approach, but please do what works best for you.

Now, to get started, you need players.

If you've got friends who are willing to help out, great. Recruit 'em.

If you've got friends but you're not sure how they'll feel about the game, ask them.

If you don't have friends who are willing to help out, you can simulate some players. Imagine a person and walk them through the steps of your game, or play yourself as both the players and the GM.

Now, when you playtest, your goal is this: to have fun with the game.

Try to get through a session. Engage the players. Tell an interesting story together.

For any element that breaks but doesn't crash the game, make a note of it and circle back later.

If any of the mechanics break completely in half, rendering the game unrunnable, that's fine. Stop and fix things only to the extent that you can continue play. You don't need to get everything perfect.

When the session's over, ask the players what they thought about the system and if there were any parts of it that they felt strongly about.

Sometimes their answers will tell you as much about the players as they do about your system, but all feedback is good feedback.

If a player is frustrated because they wanted to power-game and your system wouldn't let them, that's useful information! There might be types of players your game clicks with more than others, and maybe you can add some text to let readers know to prepare for this.

Similarly, if a player is constantly getting confused by a dice mechanic, maybe there's another way to explain that mechanic. Try to draft some other versions of that text.

Of course, if the players liked some part of the system, that's worth recording too. If the players light up at your fishing minigame, maybe you can develop that minigame a little bit more.

What you *don't* need to do at this point is worry about whether your game is good, or stress out if the mechanics hit a snag.

The goal of playtesting is to improve a game, so it doesn't matter if the game is good at the start of the process.

I have had systems break in truly spectacular ways, every single mechanic imploding, the moment someone enters a car or tries to assist on a roll. So really don't sweat it if you find some bugs.

If you've got friends helping you, and if they're good friends, they're not going to give you (too much) grief over the system breaking.

And if you're testing by yourself, then you've got even less of nothing to worry about.

After you've gotten your feedback, the final step is making changes to your game. Fiddle with the mechanics, add or remove material, and generally revise the text based on what worked for you as a GM and what the players liked or disliked.

When you're done, you might have an entirely new-looking game, so provided you can keep playtesting (see the earlier note about rigorous playtesting,) schedule another session and see if there's anything more you want to change.

[anonymousewrites]

Adolescent Antichrist (Book 4) Chapter Five

Father Figure! Lucifer x Teen! Reader

Chapter Five: I'm a Goddam Person

Summary: (Y/N) is attacked, and Lucifer and Chloe's friendship breaks.

            Chloe groaned as her phone rang. It was bad enough they had no leads on their latest murder since every clue led to a dead end and someone with no reason to kill her. Now Chloe was close to tears as Lucifer called out how she had spoken to Kinley and knew that she had a vial that could sedate, if not kill him. Lucifer had even tried to drink it despite Chloe’s attempts to convince him it was nothing. She hated how betrayed he appeared as he gazed at her in furious silence.

            But Chloe was on a case, and when she saw Dan’s name as the caller, she answered it. Her eyes widened as he related the information to her. She turned to Lucifer even as he glared at her in betrayal. “Lucifer, I know you’re upset, and I swear I can explain everything, but we need to get to Oscar’s house. He’s the killer, and he’s trying to escape.”

            Lucifer scoffed. “Fine. Put off getting rid of me by getting rid of a murderer.” He turned away from her and sullenly got into her car.

            Chloe let out a sad sigh. She had really messed up. And she wasn’t sure if she could fix things this time.

            Both Lucifer and Chloe were silent as they arrived at Oscar’s house. The lights were off, and Chloe entered the unlocked home with no issue. There was no one around.

            “Well, no one’s here. Don’t tell me you brought me here to get rid of me with no one looking? That would be low, even for you, Detective,” said Lucifer venomously.

            “Lucifer, I swear, I’m not going to hurt you. I don’t know why no one’s here, but I’m not trying to hurt you. I promise. You have to believe me,” said Chloe, trying to get control of the spiraling situation again.

            Her phone went off again, and Chloe answered in frustration. “Yes?”

            Ella’s hurried voice came over the speaker. “Chloe! We just got Oscar’s records in, and we just found the weirdest thing. The house he lives in is owned by the Catholic Church, he’s been visiting a certain church regularly, and a priest named Kinley has been paying his rent to the church for him.”

            Chloe’s eyes widened at the mention of Kinley.

            “Ella, he’s not here,” said Chloe.

            “I’ll get Dan and track down where else he could be. Maybe he has another place to stay,” said Ella. “Somewhere he actually owns.”

            Chloe paled as she made a terrible connection. “I know where he is. Get backup to Lux.” She hung up.

            “Backup to Lux? Detective, what’s going on?” said Lucifer, narrowing his eyes.

            “Oscar is being paid by Kinley.” Chloe looked away from Lucifer’s face and took a deep breath. “He’s most likely on his way to Lux thinking you might be there.”

            Lucifer froze. “(Y/N).” He was out the door before Chloe said anything else. His kid was in danger.

l

            (Y/N) felt the shadows around them bristle wildly when a bang went off in the living room. They reacted instantly, rolling from their seat at the table and landing on the ground. They pulled themself behind the island and glanced up at the mirror hung behind the bar. A man was looking around the Penthouse with a gun. (Y/N)’s blood ran cold. Lucifer was out. Em wasn’t home. (Y/N) was alone with someone trying to kill them? Lucifer? They couldn’t be sure, but they had a feeling it really didn’t matter. The man had a gun. He could hurt them at the very least.

            “Where is it?” muttered the man frantically. “Father Kinley said the abomination would be here. I must do my duty…”

            Abomination? That’s a new one, thought (Y/N). Usually, their parents had just called them a disappointment, and some kids called them slurs.

            (Y/N) moved around the bar as the man continued through the room, trying to avoid being seen. The man caught their eye in the mirror, and both froze.

            Bang!

            The man pivoted and shot at (Y/N). They scrambled away, and the shadows pulled up from the ground to create a brief shield. It shattered as the bullet hit it, but the lead fell to the ground with the pieces of shadow as (Y/N) made a run for another room.

            Another shot nearly hit them, and (Y/N) turned on instinct, stumbling to the ground and pulling back as the man advanced on them, finger still on the trigger.

            “What the hell do you want with me, you crazy fuck?!” shouted (Y/N). Stupid? Yes. Great distraction? Also yes.

            “I am sent to avenge the Earth and stop Armageddon!” said the man, pointing the gun at them. “I will end evil and send you to Hell where you belong.”

            He pulled the trigger, and (Y/N) shouted in fear. Another wall of shadows pulled up, and the man stared in shock at the moving darkness swirling around (Y/N).

            “Monster! Abomination!” he cried as the shadows protected (Y/N). “Freak!”

            (Y/N) snapped at the word freak. That was what their biological parents had called them. Every time (Y/N) didn’t live up to their expectations or fit into their mold of a “normal” kid, they were a freak. (Gender, clothes, attitude, everything and anything about (Y/N) was wrong wrong wrong to them). (Y/N) despised it.

            “Don’t call me freak,” hissed (Y/N), the shadows sharpening around them. The man stepped back. “I am not a freak! I’m a goddam person!”

            Their eyes flashed red, and the man cried out, stumbling backwards at the side. (Y/N)’s shadows overtook the room, and the man’s eyes widened as he stared at the definitely not human being before him.

            “M-Monster!” cried the man in absolute terror.

            Pure darkness saturated the room. There was no light, just (Y/N)’s fiery glare. They felt the itch of their wings wanting to appear, but (Y/N) pushed it back. They weren’t ready for that. But obscuring every bit of sunlight and turning the penthouse into a maze of shadow controlled by their own mind? Absolutely. The look of fear on their attackers face just made it better. It was partly rage pushing their powers so far, but it was also practiced precision at a grander scale.

            “Monster? Me?!” hissed (Y/N), and the man cowered. “You came in here and tried to shoot me! The only monster here is you!”

            The door of the penthouse dinged, and Lucifer and Chloe ran in. Lucifer paused, eye’s wide, and Chloe froze. The entire penthouse was bathed in darkness, bullet holes sat in the wall beside (Y/N), and they were standing over a terrified man with a fallen gun at his side.

            “(Y/N)?” called Lucifer, more concerned about him than worried.

            (Y/N)’s eyes went to him, and the darkness receded until just their own shadow remained. “Dad!” they said in relief, and then they collapsed from exhaustion. Lucifer ran forward and caught them.

            “Detective Decker, get that filth out of my sight,” hissed Lucifer, glaring at the man.

            Chloe broke from her shock. Her eyes followed (Y/N) where they took deep breaths in Lucifer’s arms. To see (Y/N) do that was nearly as shocking as Lucifer’s face had been, if not more so since Lucifer had been honest about being the Devil. (Y/N) had never acted anything but human.

            “Right.”

            Chloe cared about (Y/N), and she didn’t want them to be hurt by Oscar. She hauled him up and handcuffed him quickly. This would protect (Y/N), and it would show Lucifer that she was okay with him, with (Y/N). She wasn’t going to hurt them. Now she could see why he was so betrayed. It wasn’t just him that had abilities that could frighten humans. It was (Y/N). And Lucifer was a father. He would put (Y/N)’s safety above his own.

            Oscar struggled against Chloe as she pulled him to the elevator. “Monster! Abomination! I must rid the world of your evil! I must stop Armageddon! I must kill the abomination!”

            Lucifer’s arms tightened around (Y/N). He turned their face away. “You’re not an abomination,” he promised. “You’re a good kid. You’re okay.”

            And even in the face of so much hatred, (Y/N) felt safe in their dad’s arms.

l

            “Father Kinley?” Chloe walked purposefully into the church, and Kinley and Bishop Hoffman turned to face her.

            “Ah, Detective Decker, just the person I’d like to see,” said Kinley. He smiled. “I need you to explain to Bishop Hoffman here what you saw on Lucifer Morningstar’s face.”

            “That’s not why I’m here.” Chloe pulled out her handcuffs. “I’m here about Oscar Rivas.”

            Kinley paled. “What?”

            “You worked in the same parish as him. Quite the coincidence. And you were helping him pay his rent to the Catholic Church,” said Chloe.

            “He’s a good man. A true believer. I was simply rewarding his dedication,” said Kinley.

            “His dedication? You mean his willingness to kill to people and attempt to kill an innocent teenager?” said Chloe.

            “(Y/N) (L/N) is not innocent. They are evil, an abomination upon this Earth,” seethed Kinley.

            Chloe’s eyes narrowed, and Hoffman’s eyes widened in horror.

            “Then you admit to knowing who you sent Oscar Rivas to kill,” said Chloe. “You’re under arrest.” She pulled out her handcuffs.

            Kinley scoffed. “Bishop, tell her she’s ridiculous. I had no such connections to Oscar.”

            Hoffman shook his head in horror. “A child, William? I’m sorry, but you’re sick, William.”

l

            Chloe had hoped talking would help them. Lucifer had hoped for the same. But even after Kinley was arrested and (Y/N) was safe, their relationship couldn’t reconcile. There had been too much, and there were too many emotions attached to sort through.

            “You’re the actual Devil, Lucifer.” Chloe was crying. “Every story of good and bad from throughout history, throughout time, says that you are the embodiment of evil.” All of her confused thoughts about Lucifer spilled out of her heart. “And how am I, Chloe Decker, a nobody, supposed to deal with that?!”

            “And what about (Y/N)? Are you going to think they’re evil for their abilities, too?” said Lucifer softly, broken.

            “No! No, no, that’s a child. A good, innocent child,” swore Chloe. “They’ve proved time and time again they’re good.”

            “And I’ve been the evil the world says I am?” said Lucifer.

            “I…” Chloe wasn’t sure how to respond. She’d seen Lucifer’s anger and ferocity as much as she’d seen his kindness and openness. “They said you’re evil—!”

            Lucifer scoffed and stepped back from her. He turned his back.

            “But then I returned,” continued Chloe softly. “And I saw you. I really saw you. And I remembered how you made me feel. And I realized, Lucifer, you’re not that guy.”

            “No?” Lucifer couldn’t believe his words. He couldn’t afford to. Not when the betrayal had hurt so much to begin with.

            “No,” said Chloe.

            “What if I am that guy?” challenged Lucifer.

            “That guy wouldn’t be the good father to (Y/N) that you are,” said Chloe. “And if you think you are, then you can change.”

            “But what if I can’t?” He faced Chloe again. His Devil Face appeared, and she flinched away. “Could you accept me like this?”

            “I…uh…” Chloe wasn’t ready to make eye contact with the Devil, yet. “You have no idea how much I want to,” she said honestly. She faced him bravely. “I do. I’m…I’m trying.”

            “But could you?”

            Tears rolled down Chloe’s cheeks. “I don’t know.”

            Lucifer’s human face returned, and he scoffed lightly to avoid his own sadness from showing. Tears threatened to fall. “Then I have my answer.”

            There would be no reconciliation that night.

l

            “Lucifer and Decker aren’t going to make up, are they?” murmured (Y/N), sighing and putting their head in their hands.

            “Tonight was a big scare,” said Em. “You could’ve died. I think the boss is scared about Kinley and his influence on people. Other people could try to hurt you, and let’s face it, you’re the boss’s top priority.”

            “But Decker wouldn’t,” said (Y/N).

            “They’re both scared,” said Em, shrugging. “Decker still isn’t sure around the boss, and the boss feels betrayed. I think it’s gonna take time.”

            “…I wish that didn’t make sense,” said (Y/N).

            “I wish it didn’t, either,” said Em. She glanced at (Y/N) and cleared her throat. “Uh, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry that I wasn’t here when you were in danger.”

            (Y/N) put a hand out on Em’s arm. “It’s okay, really. I don’t expect you to always be there. And I took care of it.”

            “But I feel so stupid because I want to help you, and I was gone for a really silly reason.” Em turned a bit red, and they stood up. She opened her back and pulled out something. “I had gone out to buy these.” They turned around to hold a bouquet of red tulips. “I feel stupid, now, but they were for you.”

            (Y/N) fought not to turn pink and failed abominably. “Me?”

            Em cleared her throat. “Yeah. I wanted to…” They trailed off and groaned. “Damn, this is so stupid, this isn’t the time.”

            “Go ahead, Em,” said (Y/N), leaning forward. “I’m doing fine.”

            “I wanted to ask if you wanted to go to Homecoming,” admitted Em. “I thought the flowers would be nice, but now there was this attack, and you’re tired and probably in shock, so I just feel stupid—”

            “Oh, shut up.” (Y/N) rolled their eyes fondly. “I’d like to go with you, Em. Homecoming would be fun with you.”

            Em turned a bit red and averted her gaze. “Well, we’d also be with Leon, Marcel, Olive, and Noa, so you don’t have to feel that pressured, it’s okay—”

            “Seriously, shut up. I wouldn’t say yes if I didn’t want to.” (Y/N) smiled at Em.

            “Great! Great.” It was amusing to see Em stumble over her words. “Uh, here.” They awkwardly held out the flowers, and (Y/N) took it.

            The night had been terrible, and Lucifer and Chloe were struggling, but (Y/N) and Em had found some good in all the tragedy.

l

            Kinley finished his prayers and stood up as Bishop Hoffman entered the room of his holding cell. “Your Excellency. Did you change your mind? Are you here to get me out?”

            “I am here to take your confession,” said Hoffman diligently.

            “I have nothing to confess,” said Kinley.

            “William,” said Hoffman. “You are responsible for the deaths of two people and the near-death of a third, a child. For what?”

            “I’m trying to save lives,” said Kinley, as convinced and passionate as ever. “To stop the prophecy.” Hoffman shook his head in exhaustion as Kinley repeated the prophecy. “ ‘When the Devil walks the Earth and finds his first love, evil shall be released.’ ”

            “Enough with this damn prophecy you’re obsessed with,” said Hoffman.

            “The Devil is walking the Earth,” said Kinley.

            “His Holiness has issued an order,” said Hoffman, interrupting Kinley. “You’ve been excommunicated.”

            Kinley looked down but kept his decorum. “I…may have failed, temporarily, to prove that Lucifer is the Devil, but I nearly removed his first love.”

            “That child?” Hoffman looked at Kinley, aghast.

            “He sees them as his own child with a true paternal love. They are the prophecy coming true,” said Kinley in deep conviction. “They must be pushed apart and removed. The Antichrist cannot be allowed to walk the Earth alongside the Devil.”

            Hoffman sighed. “Lucifer Morningstar is not the Devil, and (Y/N) (L/N) is not the Antichrist. Give up this foolish obsession. Make your confession. Ask God for forgiveness for your sins.”

            Kinley stared solemnly at Hoffman. “I will not ask forgiveness for being right.”

l

            Lucifer held his head in his hands, and a drink sat abandoned on the coffee table. The moon was high in the sky above him, but he had no idea how long he’d been sitting there, stuck on the rift between him and Chloe.

            “Are you okay?”

            He looked up to see (Y/N), wrapped in a red throw blanket, looking at him. He forced on a smile. “I should be asking you that.”

            (Y/N) sat down next to him. “You know I’m okay. I was mostly just shaken by how strong my abilities were.” They looked at him before he could open his mouth. “But I’m more worried about you.”

            Lucifer sighed. “It seems the Detective and I have reached an impasse. She still can’t accept who I am.”

            “I think she accepts more than you think,” said (Y/N). They nudged his shoulder. “You guys will be okay.”

            Lucifer smiled slightly. “So optimistic,” he said fondly.

            “Me? No. I have too much mental illness for optimism. But I do believe in truth, and you and Decker will be fine. I’m sure,” said (Y/N).

            Lucifer smiled. “You’ll have to believe for the both of us.”

            “No problem,” said (Y/N), smiling back. They spread out their blanket around their dad. “I have to take care of you, too.”

            Lucifer pulled his kid closer. “That’s my job.”

            “Sure, Dad, sure.” (Y/N) rolled their eyes and hugged him back. “Keep telling yourself that after all the problems I’ve solved for you.”

            Lucifer let out a light chuckle. He was glad to have (Y/N) with him. They were really his kid in everything but blood. They meant the world to him.

            Lucifer paused and looked down at (Y/N). Wasn’t adoption an option…?

Taglist:

@sammyscreencaps-13

@grippleback-galaxy-galaxy

@scarlettqueen190

@ziro-the-null-god

@sammy-13

@zeros-rot

@ceridwyn3

@technikerin23

@poetoflawed

@slytherinroyalty16

[quinloki]

Roronoa Zoro - Sweet

Requestor: @sunshinegat0r Reader Vibes Requested: AFAB she/her CW: Hospital, injuries, references to a car accident, loads of guilt

Notes: Ahhh... I'm realizing I wrote this in the Wrong AU - Gat0r I'm so sorry, I hope this is okay. I wrote this in the Mafia City AU, and not the Grandline Metro AU >.< Mega Oops on my part.

Please note in this AU the Reader is the adopted daughter of Edward Newgate (who is Law's Father's Father, making them Aunt and Nephew.) This AU was used in Family Ties and Family Practice (the reader is not adopted in that one, but it's the same world and Reader)

This is heckin' embarrassing I can't believe I confused my own AUs 😅😵‍💫

“Whaddya mean-!” Zoro couldn’t believe his ears, he pushed back on Law reflexively before he managed to calm down.

“… She… she doesn’t remember me?” The question is in disbelief, and Law’s never heard the rough-edged fighter sound so broken before, or look it.

“It’s barely been a full day since the wreck, Zoro-ya.” He answers, moving to physically put his face in front of Zoro’s and get his attention. “It’s a miracle she was awake in the first place.”

Understanding crosses his features and he steps back from the doctor and the door to your room. He’s quiet for a moment, taking in the sounds of the hospital, and the steady beep from your room.

“Is it… safe for me to see her right now?”

“Safe, how?”

“Will she… will it hurt her to see me?” He questions, brows furrowing. “I don’t want to go in there for myself if it’ll… I don’t know, upset her, to see me.”

“… She’s sleeping for now. If you don’t stay too long you can see her.” Law answers. “I can text you when she’s up tomorrow, I still have to break the news to her brothers.”

Zoro nods, stepping around Law and moving into your room. You looked peaceful, despite the bandages and wires hooked up to you. It was almost impossible to believe you were actually awake.

It was hard to believe you were alive.

You’d picked up extra shifts to help him with the busy season and the two of you were running solo for the last two weeks. Hell, all six drivers Zoro had were running solo just trying to keep up with the need for the holidays.

It was a hit and run, and he hadn’t been there.

He could have been, though. If he had been willing to have everyone work a little longer, he could’ve paired people up the way he preferred. It wasn’t the law to have two people in the truck, but it was the usual process for him - for his business.

And the one time he decides different, this is the cost.

Sitting by your bed, Zoro puts his head in his hands, trying desperately to keep his spiraling emotions in check. This can’t be about his guilt, not so soon, not until he knows. If you don’t recover properly, if your memory doesn’t return, then he’ll cut himself out of your life of his own will. He won’t let you risk yourself again, not because of him.

The burden of this will be his to bear alone.

He can take it.

He can’t trade places with you, so ensuring he’s never the reason you hurt is a small price.

You’ve got dozens of brothers, adopted darling of the Newgate family. No one in this city would purposefully hurt you, and hells, that might be the reason the driver fled the scene in the first place.

Not that such an act would save them. You made friends with Doflamingo accidentally, and there’s no way someone so well-connected would let the culprit get away.

If only Newgate and Doflamingo would turn their ire on him. Even if you recover fully what he did was-

“You’re ‘pose’ta read to someone in a coma,” you mutter, lips and body heavy from the aches and exhaustion. Zoro looks up, wide-eyed and agog to the point of it being comical. “Or confess about how much you love ‘em,” you add, giving him a weak smile.

“Wha-.” He stares. “Law- The doc said you’d be asleep for a while.”

“Docs worry too much,” you reply, giving him a small smile. “You okay?”

“Am - Am I okay?” He nearly barks. “Are you kidding me right now?”

You shake your head. “You look like hell, Marimo.”

“Have you seen- wait,” Zoro freezes, on his feet, hands on the railing on the side of your hospital bed. “Do you… remember me?”

“I’ve known you most of my life, how could I forget you?” You grunt, the words nearly a grumble.

“What… what do you remember?” He questions, sitting back down. You can see the blood already starting to drain out of his face.

“What do you mean, what do I remember?”

“You couldn’t remember your name earlier.” A gruff voice says from the doorway, as Law walks in. He seems to be glaring at Zoro, but Law’s default face was kind of glare-y. He covers the distance from door to bedside quickly and is already shining a very annoying light in your eyes.

“I don’t remember being up before now,” you growl, squinting against the light. “I should’ve stayed asleep if you were just going to blind me.”

Law moves the light away an frowns. “What’s your name?”

“… (Y/N), Newgate (Y/N) since Pops adopted me, making me your aunt.” You answer, flipping him off even though the action made your arm ache.

Law continued to ask you a series of questions, and you knew most of them were because he had to. You must’ve really worried him the first time you supposedly came around, even though you couldn’t remember it, cause he laid out all twenty questions.

Zoro went through an impressive number of emotions, trying desperately to maintain his composure and not interrupt Law. It was cute on the one hand, but if he had been afraid you’d forgotten him, well, that would explain his earlier behavior.

Law leaves the two of you once he’s satisfied, and even offers to have a cot brought in so Zoro can stay the night.

Zoro’s head is back in his hands, and you give him a few moments.

“If I hadn’t,” he starts, voice shaky. “We should’ve…” He shakes his head. “I shouldn’t had put one driver to one truck. This is my-.”

“It’s the driver’s fault.” You interject. “I had,” you wince a little trying to sit up and Zoro moves to help you, adjusting the bed as you talk. “My high-vis vest on and everything. They cut down the alley so fast, there was no helping it.”

You chuckle a little, pained and short. “If I hadn’t jumped,” you shake your head. “No, never mind. I’m here… so… stay with me.” You reach out and he takes your hand without hesitation. “I’m lost without you, Zoro, so please… please don’t take a guilt trip and leave me alone.”

Hanging his head he snorts, shaking his head enough his earrings chime. “That was terrible.”

You smile. “It was perfect.” You tighten your grip on his hand. “Promise me.”

“I promise.” He says, kissing your fingers gently.

“Every other delivery company runs one driver to one truck.” You continue to push. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“… I did one thing wrong.” He insists. “I should’ve hired on more help. I shouldn’t have compromised how I run my business.”

You sigh. “I suppose I can accept that.”

The two of you stayed that way quietly for a few long minutes, the steady beep of your heart monitor and the quiet din of activity in the hall the only sounds for a little bit.

“Zoro?” You prompt and he looks at you after kissing the top of your hand.

“Yeah?”

“If… If I ever do forget, don’t… don’t let me, okay?”

“Huh?”

“No matter the circumstances, promise you’ll help me remember.” You assert. “Everything. All of it, every time… please.”

“Every time.” He promises, kissing your hand again.

[nerdieforpedro]

Nerdie! I should be getting ready to go into the office, but let's be honest. I'd rather ask you some of the emoji asks than go to work. This is way more interesting.

I also wanted to send you the entire list but I'm only going to send you four: 🍈, 🍍, 🍒, and 🍊. Four may be extra but in context, I'm showing some restraint.

Merci!

Some restraint you say Em? 😆 My Blorbo? MY BLORBO?! There’s three favorite blorbos. 🫣 Don’t tell the other Pedro boys okay? Shhh 🤫

1. Dieter Bravo - he enjoys horrible jokes and puns, touches all the things and people, has his robe, is an artist and he doesn’t always do drugs. He’s sensitive and smarter than people think okay?! He’s the little grabby trash panda that can! 🦝 Dieter likes to roll with what his partner does in the bedroom but on occasion, he’ll take charge. He enjoys surprises in and out of the bedroom.

2. Frankie Morales - he’s usually a pilot, sometimes a mechanic. Always does something with his hands. Those hands they take machines and bodies apart. No longer in combat, as a civilian. Sometimes it’s on a car or plane that they pull things apart. Other times, it’s the body of his partner as he makes them call and cry for him. He also isn’t good with his words so he’s more about actions though it can get kinda muddled. Frankie can switch between being dominant or submissive depending on his partner’s needs. They’ll need to remind him of his own needs.

3. Din Djarin - Sometimes he’s modern, sometimes he’s canon with his beskar. Always kind behind his sighs and despite looking like he’s break everything, he’s gentle and feels deeply. He might be a bit neurotic. It bodes well for plans of attacks and escapes not so much for over-analyzing everything a partner says or does. He’ll always take care of any foundling or child in his care - no matter if it’s Grogu or someone else’s child. Din is a soft dom. I will die on this hill.

I don’t really have any AUs I hate. I’m not a fan of school AUs mainly because I never know what to write for them and they’re kids and I didn’t stay on campus for college so I don’t have a reference for that. I enjoy modern AUs - easy to write for. 🤣 I should try an actual AU, maybe fantasy since I had an idea for that with Din but nothing is written. Just bullet points and vibes.

My favorite character dynamic usually starts off as plutonic and then becomes romantic or is some sort of meet-cute. I do like when maybe the reader or Pedro boy has been watching the other for a bit, and then finally makes their move. Hehe! 😆 I could write plutonic but I feel like there’s plenty of that in the movies and shows so let me live out my twisted dreams 🤗

There’s two characters I want to write more for:

I need to write more for Pero. Either canon, modern or in some other AU. I need to have more of this man on my masterlist being grumpy, growling, mutter Spanish at me the reader or OFC (we know I love my OFCs ok? I like names! 😁) his broad, curly haired self with a sword or soaking in a tub. 👀

I also need to write more for Jack Daniels aka Agent Whiskey, aka, the only reason I would ever don cowboy boots. A stronger southern drawl than Joel in 200% more denim and 100% more ten gallon hat. I’m not sure where I would stick him except in between some thighs.

I hope I answered your questions and fruits throughly. ☺️

[hongtiddiez]

Not Me Episode 6 Music

so i'm probably not going to get totally caught up today because i'm starting to get tired and i still have my real job to do, but i'll do about 2 of these a day until i get caught up again.

when White and Sean are arguing about boundaries we see another appearance from Safeguard by Charles Holme - this could be a nod to White wanting to safeguard his friends.

Only Love Is Real - Todd Kessler

as White enters their room to find Sean sprawled on the bed this song kicks in. i'd post the lyrics but i don't know if they really have much relevance here (but it is a beautiful song)

Break Me (Kevin Faltin Remix) - Wholm, Michael Shynes, Kevin Faltin

OUGHGHGHGH. so like, for my taste in music this isn't my fave BUT the song is so good for the mood. this comes in after their big talk, Sean's in his cups and White starts getting ready for bed.

One more wine and one more whiskey We just kept the car in park And dimmed the headlights so we see the stars Let em tell us where we should start And I'm scared as hell Because there's no way to know how this goes But I can't help but say I promise to give you my all But it might break me (Break Me)

i really think this is where the boys start having some serious feelings for one another - whether they recognize they're romantic or otherwise i can't really say, and i think this is where they're beginning to trust and lean on each other a little more. the lyrics of this song are just chef's kiss. neither of them knows how this is going to go, how it might hurt them, and they're both just scared young adults trying their best.

Live Long and Prosper - Bonn Fields

as Sean argues with the police in his memories this plays. it's a haunting tune that really captures so much of what this scene is.

This is My Love - Daniel Pratt

oh holy shit. i had always wondered where this song plays and now that i know i am changed. i can never not know. oh it hurts, it's so good, it's so brilliant.

this song plays as Sean gives White the candy to replace the taste of the bitterant. we don't hear any of the lyrics but Sean's actions really replace the lyrics in their own way. (i'm having shrimp emotions @timetoboldlygo !!!) {i do think this might be a religious song btw, but we can ignore that part of the song bc i said so}

Tender and kind, built over time This is my love for you Steady and pure, patient and sure This is my love for you

BECAUSE THAT'S HOW SEAN SHOWS LOVE!! HE CARES AND HE'S KIND AND TENDER AND -- OH I'M NOT OKAY, SEAN IS SHOWING HIS LOVE

when Sean and White are arguing and Sean asks White to give him some encouragement we get another appearance from Flares by Life in Colour

Dylan Thomas/Bitter Bitter - The Duke of Norfolk

i'm coming UNGLUED IN THE SERVER. this song plays as Gram confesses to Yok that he has felt love. "You're always with Black. You don't have time for anyone else."

Heavy the rain doth pour and heavy the tongue. The light does miss the forested face. Bitter, bitter the pendulum swung Bitter, bitter the pendulum swung Open the sky for me and cut out the heart the fruit does spoil the children’s laughter Bitter, bitter the blackest of arts ‘Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright’ the sun does try despite the shadow Bitter, bitter ‘the dying of the light��� Bitter, bitter the dagger in the fight

oh i'm peeling apart at my seams. like, yes, sure, this could apply to Gram's feelings for Eugene but for it to be playing when Yok mentions Black???

the sun does try despite the shadow Bitter, bitter ‘the dying of the light’

is.. is Gram the sun? he tries despite the fact that the shadow (Black) never looks at him? he's bitter because the light, his feelings, are dying in his chest? hmm?? MAYHAPS? (im probably just seeing what i want to see but FUCK YOU FOR MAKING THIS SONG PLAY its one of my favorites)

Chaos at the Spaceship - Out of Flux

the perfect song title for the iconic scene of Yok brandishing the flares. that moment is really just one of the moments of all time in this show, an absolute favorite, and absolutely pure chaos.

I'll Understand - Roza

one of the best choices lyric wise in this entire show, in my opinion. as Sean is choking White and walks away from him (in the next episode) this song plays with it's apt lyrics.

The end of the world at the palm of my hand When it all goes to hell, will you still be my friend? My face to the sea and my back to the land If you can’t come with me I’ll understand

the pain is unending and forever. i don't think i need to even say anything about how these lyrics tie in with the scene, it's pretty clear. OUCH.

alright thats all i have in me for tonight but i love you and im smooching you all

[darkness-and-books]

I’ll marry you

TOS Leonard McCoy x fem!reader

⚠️: reader dies in the end, reader is fem

word count: 903

“When I grow up, I’ll marry you” she said it all the time when they were young. She and Leonard grew up next door to each other. They were the best of friends and from the start a little bit more too. It was the innocent kind of love, the kind where they shared everything and would do anything for each other. If Leonard got a cookie from his mother he would always ask for a second and run off with them both. His mother never had any doubt of where that second cookie was going. —————— Age 5 “Hi Lenny!!” Y/N squealed as she saw Leonard running into her yard. “Hi Y/N!! Look I brought you a cookie!!” Leonard shouted, waving the second cookie over his head as he ran. “Really?” Y/N asked breathily, she knew Leonard loved his cookies, these weren’t just the store bought ones, these were the special ones that his mama only made once in a while. “Yeah, mama just made ‘em, they’re still warm!!!” He cheered, “oh I love you, you’re the best!” Y/N jumped around. “Wait here!!” Y/N called as she was already running into her own house. “Mom! Mom! Can I have two juices!??” Y/N bounded through the house. “What’s the second one for?” Her mother called from the kitchen, she knew of course but she still found it adorable. “Lenny brought me a cookie!! I wanna bring him a juice!” Y/N explained rapidly as she watched her mother open the fridge and pull out two juice boxes. As soon as she handed Y/N the juices, she darted for the door like her life depended on it. “Lenny, I’ve got juices!!” Y/N shouted in glee as she plopped down on the steps next to him. They traded one of each with each other and munched happily as the day came to a close. ————- Age 10 “Hey Lenny!” Y/N called as they got off the bus from school. Leonard looked over and nodded to show that she had his attention. “My mom said you can come over and watch a movie after dinner if it’s okay with your mama!” Y/N rushed in the same excited tone she generally kept, “Oh, I’ll run in and ask right now, wait there I’ll be right back” Leonard ordered. He ran in and dropped his school bag at the door, “Hey mama, is it okay if after dinner I go over to Y/N’s and watch a movie?” Leonard pried. “I don’t see why not, just be back by eight” his mother informed, “okay mama!” Leonard replied before running back out to tell Y/N the good news. “My mama said it’s alright, long as I’m back by eight!” He called as he hung out the door of his house, “Alright, see you then Lenny!” ————-

Age 15 “Hey Len, you see the new girl yet?” Y/N asked as she chewed her gum at her desk. “Nah, not yet. Why ya ask?” Leonard was quick reply from the desk next to her. “I dunno, I just hear a lot a people talkin bout her. Figured that if you’d seen her you might know what the fuss is about” Y/N explained as she swung one leg loosely over her desk. “Maybe, but I’m sure she’s not all that, she’s just new, new people are a big deal round here if you hadn’t noticed. Besides she’ll be in here soon just like the rest of us, then you can see what the fuss is for yourself” Leonard remarked. “Yeah, I guess” Y/N acknowledged with a soft sigh. “Don’t worry bout it, darlin I’m sure you’ll still be the prettiest girl around” Leonard assured her. “Flatterer” Y/N muttered to herself, “I heard that” Leonard lamented “Good” Y/N mocked. ————- Age 16 Y/N and Leonard walked down the street to a cafe. “Did you catch what the math homework was” Leonard questioned, “Not even a little, I’m pretty sure I was asleep” Y/N admitted. “That explains the snoring” Leonard noted “I do not snore!” Y/N contested. “I know, just messing with ya” Leonard conceded. “Cross here” Y/N informed, looking back at Leonard as she crossed. “Wait!” Leonard reached for her, but he wasn’t quick enough and neither was the driver who stomped on his breaks just a little too late. Leonard rushed to her as the man got out of his car. “Call 911!” He urged the stranger as he held Y/N. “Hang in there, remember you said you would marry me. You gotta live long enough for us to have the best wedding” Leonard pleaded softly as he held Y/N, who fought to keep her eyes open. “Just know that I would have said I do” Y/N let out in a brittle voice. “You’ll make it, you can tell me you do later” Leonard protested the idea that she wouldn’t be there to tell him that herself. “Love ya Len” Y/N sighed softly and closed her eyes. She had stopped, stopped talking, stopped breathing, stopped. The sirens wailed around him, but it didn’t matter, just like Leonard and the driver, they were too late too. Everything around him was a flurry but all he could think was that she loved him. She really loved him, not just the cutesy kind after he would give her a cookie when they were five, but she really loved him and he never got to say it back.

I can’t believe I chose to traumatise 16 year old Bones. 😭I’m so sorry😭

[lakesbian]

ok i was going to read 1.3 and then say things about 1.2 but i'm sleepytired again so i will read 1.3 tomorrow. world's slowest bookread ever this thing is far shorter than worm and yet i will manage to make it take forever via power of being distracted easily

first of all: i have once again lost the fucking plot. lost in the sauce of bad things happening. i respond to horror like a baby watching keys dangle. so long as bad things are happening to blake i am going to be watching and clapping instead of thinking carefully. that's a lie i am absolutely still thinking carefully but i am primarily more invested in the bad things happening

ok no seriously though. ahem. as for thoughts on the universe thus far: no groundbreaking updates in that department. we're obviously getting more on rose but i do not have solid thoughts on her or the mirror world presently. watching and looking and contemplating but we'll get there when we get there.

i presume blake is correct abt the horrors being given specific instructions vs acting entirely autonomously--presumably others sent after him by whichever random enemy no 234325 he inherited. i'm aware "people can make pacts with magic guys to go do things" is an absolute nothing-statement when it comes to a universe called pact that runs on fairy-logic and we've already seen an example of it previously but my point is that i presume there are other specific ppl and/or entities w/ more character responsible for directing the attacks, and we'll meet them sooner or later.

exceedingly endeared to the atmosphere in this. as always wildbow will write one million redundant poorly phrased little sentences and then somehow it results in a genuinely compelling atmosphere. love the visual of blake driving the car around The Horrors & then it breaking down in the snowy darkness. the lights slowly going out et cetera.

also particularly endeared to him hauling down on the car mirror, getting the tire iron, going on a little monologue to himself about conserving heat, and then immediately having his Horror Movie Protagonist Preparations do nothing and go to shit and then he panics and runs into the woods and trips and almost dies. and he also starts crying near-immediately. and then going "that's fine. that's because of the wind. crying because of the wind. i'm fine" to himself while hysterically screeching at The Horrors he just very unsuccessfully attempted to beat back with a tire iron. he's not doing bad but he's not doing good either. literally just an extremely normal average guy who throws his back out running. it's fantastic. like whatever fantastical circumstances happen to him he still has the heart and soul of a Normal Guy who should be sipping his 7 dollar latte while he walks to art college instead of crying while trying to beat the shit out of fairies. and that's so funny. blake crying throwing up vibrating back and forth saying every swear word he knows in alphabetical order because he has to sew his own hand up So so fucking funny. taylor hebert could do pact but blake thorburn could not do worm. i was right that he could not handle having a juicebox poured on him without calling someone a cunt and slamming doors around about it.

i do hope i find out more about what caused his [pokes around in his brain with a spatula] Issues sooner or later bc it's more interesting to pick him apart if i know what exactly was going on there. but he looooves not thinking about let alone talking about bad memories and he might be a little too busy experiencing New bad memories to ever wheel 'em out for my pleasure. so we'll find out. holding off on any firm thoughts about him until i see if we get any more detail but either way he's interesting. certainly a guy ever. very endearing i like him

[symphonic-scream]

🫂

Hm

Here's some Queers stuff

Specifically, Makoto and Haru, trying to have a kid

So science? Out the window. Keep that in mind

Makoto: hey, Tae. Can I ask you a question, as my doctor?

Tae: sure Sprout, what's up?

Makoto: and you can't tell Sae

Tae: confidentiality, 100%

Makoto: is there anyway that, at this stage, we could do something to get a useable, sample?

Tae: what

Makoto: Haru wants a baby. She admitted while a little drunk on our wedding night she wanted it to be ours. I, haven't told her I heard her. I just, want to know if, I can still give this to her

Tae: ...I'll talk around, get some ideas. I'll do my best, Sprout. The two of you deserve a shot

Makoto gets a call a month later. Tae has a fertility doctor there (in casual clothes), and he lays out his plan with her. They'd half her Estrogen for a bit, and give her another hormone as well. It's technically a female hormone too, but. In a male body, it produces more little swimmers

Makoto: ...I want to try it

Tae: great. And this one is a pill this time

Makoto: oh thank god

Another month later, Tae and the dude check in. He thinks he can work with this, and tells her to let Haru in on it

Haru sobs into her wife's shoulder. There was a chance? And Makoto, was willing to do something like that for her? It meant the world

Haru: what about you? Your shots...

Makoto: I've felt fine so far. I've never been like, horribly dysphoric. My voice won't just drop drastically, and it's only halving it. I'm fine love, especially if I can make you happy

Two and a half years of monthly visits. Two and a half years of monthly results, being told they need to try again. Over and over, heads leaned together quietly in the car, parked. In their own lot. Not going up to their home yet

Then, late May, right after Hifumi moved in, Tae laughs triumphantly from the other room. Makoto watches as her and her doctor friend hug in celebration through the door, before coming to tell them the good news

Tae: Haru, your counts are consistent with early pregnancy. We can't guarantee it'll stick at this stage, so i want you to relax, take it easy, let your body use it's energy to get that little one to a stable stage

Other doctor: next month? We should be able to do a little ultrasound, look at your baby. Congratulations you two, looks like all our hard work has paid off

Haru's sobbing on the little cot, and Makoto is crying, hugging her all happy.

Haru: we did it,,, Mako, we're gonna have a baby!

Makoto: I've never been so happy in my whole life,,

Tae: neither of you should take the train, I'll give you a ride back to Kichijoji. I'll leave you with a good vitamin for Haru to take every morning with breakfast, to make sure we're doing everything for this to stick

Makoto begins her routine of sitting on Haru's legs are she reads a bit before bed, her (borrowed from Makoto) shirt rolled up to reveal her belly

"Hey squirt, this is your mom. The other one, since Haru's got you in there." Traces the bit of pudge Haru has, adoration in her eyes. "I can't wait to meet you, little miracle. Neither can your mama, but she gets to have you now. I can wait while you two bond"

Haru: Mako, Tae said it might not fully take,

Makoto: I, working towards a psych doctorate-

Haru: you're on a years break from your studies

Makoto: not important. I believe, they'll have a better chance if I show em a little love. Your love is what gets me through the day, so

Once they get that confirmation that baby looks like it'll make it, Makoto is asked if she wants to switch back to her regular doses

Makoto: ...if we decide to try for another, would I just have to go through this again? Or would staying on this course be better?

Haru: Makoto-

Tae: honestly? Stay like this for now. As long as you still feel fine, this is safer in that regard. It took so long for this one to go through, there's no guarantee it'll happen again if you stop

Haru: no, she's going back-

Makoto: so you only want one?

Haru:

Makoto: I'll stay on this course. The second I feel bad, I'll go back. I promise. But I don't wanna be the reason we can't have anothrr

Haru, staring at her wife without her shirt, humming and swaying while cradling their son to her chest, a look of complete adoration on her face: oh, we are so having at least another baby

[dearheart42regenerated]

bro (yes homo) ♡ - a Muckles fanmix

♡ playlist link: Spotify ♡ artwork used: @livelivefastfree

(do I dare tag this legendary amazing motorcity fanartist who hasn’t posted in a year?? yes. I do dare. I miss their stuff. I hope they make more stuff.)

anyway HAPPY PRIDE MONTH TO ME!!!

here’s a slow burn friends-to-lovers playlist for two dorks I miss very much. has a bit of a fanfic-y story arc to it if you pay attention. ;) LOTS of fun nostalgic dumb teenager I’ve-known-you-forever pop-punk vibes, with sprinkles of indie and pop, and just a dash of indulgent angst in the middle.

if any shippers still lurk in this tag, I hope you enjoy this~ 

(I’m always adding more songs as I find ‘em and I roped my sisters into helping, so there will likely be more than this on the tracklist lol)

--> ♡ main tracks & lyrics:

The Bro Duet - George Salazar, Jason Gotay

Remember that time we were surfing / And I almost drowned / (Heheheheh, yeah) / And you dragged me to the beach / And performed CPR?

You Told The Drunks I Knew Karate - Zoey Van Goey

I do the dumbest things for you / Why do I do the dumbest things for you? / I would be safer on my own / I didn't care, you were the most exciting thing I'd ever known

You And I - Anarbor

You and I, we've never felt so right / That just might be just what I need (to get me through the night) / You and I, we're the perfect fit, you've got me hooked / So lit I could never never quit, I just burn away

I’ll Be There - Walk Off The Earth

When your heart could use a break / And it's too broken to be open / I'll be patient, I will wait / Until you're ready to be open / Everybody / Needs somebody / And you got me

With You - Tricia Brock

Through it all / I'll go down to the bottom with you / They can take it all away / But I'll be alright with you / As long as you are by my side / I'll be okay

More Than Useless - Relient K

I'm a little more than useless / And when I think that I can't do this / You promise me that I'll get through this / And do something right / Do something right for once

My Pace - Stray Kids

(English translation) There's no need to rush, my pace / Don't compare yourself with others / It's okay to run slower / Just follow my lane, my lane / Take it easy / Just look ahead and run

A Daydream Away - All Time Low

I wish you could see your face right now / 'Cause you're grinning like a fool / And we're sitting on your kitchen floor / On a Tuesday afternoon / It doesn't matter when we get back / To doing what we do / 'Cause right now could last forever / Just as long as I'm with you

In Your Car - Big Deal

I got a friend who never lets me down / Driving in your car / I wanna be wherever you are / Asleep in the backseat / There's nothing more that I'll ever need / It's a secret, a secret, a secret

Sticking With You - Addison Road

Come on, it's me you're talking to / There's something going on inside of you / Don't have to say it, but I wish you would / 'Cause it would be much easier

Curl Up And Die - Relient K

Clinging to the remnants of perfection / Like most do after they break it / Not knowing which direction’s the correct one / Do I discard or remake it? / 'Cause if I don't know, then I don't know / But I may know someone who knows me more than I

Army - Besomorph, Arcando, Neoni

Seeing monsters out your window / I know you can't sleep, you pretend though / You don't have to play the hero / 'Cause I got you, like you got me / When the earth shakes / When the bombs scream / 'Til our last breath, every heartbeat / You know I'll come running / If you go to war then I'm going with you

Safe And Sound - Taylor Swift

I remember you said don't leave me here alone / But all that's dead and gone and passed tonight / Just close your eyes, the sun is going down / You'll be alright, no one can hurt you now / Come morning light, you and I'll be safe and sound

Hometown - Sheppard

Well, love just don't feel right / When I don't have your hand in mine / I'm scared you're slipping away / But once I'm homeward bound / From the moment that I touch down / I realize nothing has changed

Odds Are - Barenaked Ladies

Struck by lightning, sounds pretty frightening / But you know the chances are so small / Hit by the A-Train, crashed in an airplane / Better chance you're gonna buy it at the mall / But it's a twenty-three-or-four-to-one / That you can fall in love by the end of this song / So get up, get up, no I'm never gonna let up / So you might as well sing along / The odds are that we will probably be alright

I Would Do Anything For You - Foster The People

Every day is a battle I face / Strange life I live / But it's what you've decided / I'll give it all into your hands / Do what you will / With me

Must Have Done Something Right - Relient K

And I'm racking my brain for a new improved way / To let you know you’re more to me than what I know how to say / You're OK with the way this is going to be / ‘Cause this is going to be the best thing we've ever seen / If anyone can make me a better person, you could / All I gotta say is I must've done something good

I Melt With You - Bowling For Soup

Moving forward using all my breath / Being friends with you was never second best / And I saw the world crashing all around your face / Never really knowing it was always mesh and lace / I'll stop the world and melt with you / You've seen the difference and it's getting better all the time / And there's nothing you and I won't do

Boom! - Simple Plan

Don't worry about tomorrow / ‘Cause these walls will never fall / I just wanna let the world know / What we've got's unbreakable / We got it under control / We're good, we're solid, we're gold

Rock To My Roll - Anarbor

You are the rhythm to my rhyme / And you are my radio / Turn you up when I feel low / You are the soundtrack to all I know / You are the rock to my roll

Running Towards A Place - The Killers

And if we're running towards a place / Where we'll walk as one / Will the hardness of this life / Be overcome? / If I lay with you in love / Will you meet me there / And shake the lightning from the locks / Of your unbound hair / Can two become one?

Quarter Past Midnight - Bastille

It's a quarter past midnight / As we cut through the city / Yeah, yeah, yeah, the streets are getting restless / Good times, bad decisions / Yeah, yeah, it's a quarter past midnight / And the sirens are mending some hearts / But we're the losers on our back seats / Singing "Love Will Tear Us Apart"

Passenger Seat - Death Cab For Cutie

When you feel embarrassed then I'll be your pride / When you need directions then I'll be the guide / For all time / For all time

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

Clowns

Fandom: The Killing, Stephen Holder

Summary: Holder and you are trying to track down a suspect, but something about him is making Holder uncomfortable.

Word Count: 1987

TW: Angst, Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Chemical Burns, Past Trauma, Fear of Clowns, Language, Smoking

“Clowns…. why it gotta be clowns?” Holder mutters under his breath as he slams the car door shut and jams his hands into his pockets.

You smirk up at him as you begin walking down the boardwalk. “Okay, Indiana, what do you have against clowns?”

The two of you had been working a case for a few weeks now where bodies had been turning up with their faces burned and corroded away. After a lot of dead ends, you had finally caught a break. The only thing connecting all the victims was the fact they were parents of young children. And all of these young children could be tied back to a local actor, Trevor Moses, who dressed up like a clown for parties and festivals and such. When you found out he was working down at the pier at the annual seaside festival that was happening in a few days, you decided to check it out and see if he was there. Your partner had been acting strange ever since you had identified the suspect and now it seemed that you knew why.

Holder hunches over even further. “They’re creepy as fuck and what’s the point of ‘em anyway?”

“To make people laugh? To bring joy to our otherwise joyless lives? I don’t know. I never really got the appeal either, but you seem really bothered by them. Are you good to do this?”

“Shit. When’s the last time I let you down? I gotchu, girl.” He shoots you his trademark Holder smile, but you see it doesn’t reach his eyes.

You lightly grab the sleeve of his hoodie, stopping you both. “Hey, seriously Holder, it’s just a few simple questions. I can handle this on my own. If you need to hang back that’s fine. In fact, it might even be better. That way you can make sure no one suspicious is lurking around while I’m in there.”

It is a lame excuse and you both know it, but he nods. “Yeah… yeah, that sounds like a good plan.” He pulls out his pack of cigarettes and lights one up. After taking a long drag from it, you notice he seems a little calmer than before.

You smile. “Okay, I’ll be back in a few minutes. I’ll meet you over by the Ferris Wheel.” When he nods again, you continue down the boardwalk until you reach the shop you were looking for.

The entire area was pretty much deserted seeing as the festival was still only half-constructed and all the workers had gone home for the day. But your intel said that Moses sometimes worked at the joke shop by the pier in addition to performing at the festival, so you might as well check it out.

As soon as you walk through the door, something feels off. The whole place smells faintly like bleach and yet, nothing looked like it had been cleaned in months. As you take another step farther into the store, a man comes out of the back room. He is wearing a traditional clown costume but with boots and a large coat over his polka-dotted attire. And even under all of the makeup, you recognize him as your suspect.

“Trevor Moses? I’m a detective with Seattle Homicide. I just have a few ques-”

Before you can finish, Moses charges forward, shoving you to the ground as he passes, and bolts out the door. You scramble back to your feet and take off after him. As you begin chasing him down the boardwalk, you catch Holder out of the corner of your eye, leaning against the Ferris Wheel, cigarette in his hand.

“Holder! He’s making a break for it!” you scream, never slowing for even an instant.

Your partner jumps in surprise, drops his cigarette, and takes off after you. But he is several hundred feet behind you and even with his long legs, you know it will take him time to catch up. So, you push yourself to run as fast as you possibly can, slowly closing the distance between you and Moses.

It takes until you are almost to the end of the boardwalk before you catch up to him. You reach out, fingers barely grazing his coat. But just as you think you have him, he whirls around, spraying you with the fake flower pinned to his lapel. It looks like the typical flower squirting water gag you had seen a million times with other clowns but the liquid that splashes onto your skin is not water. You manage to block most of the liquid with your left hand and arm, but it immediately begins burning as if on fire. Instinctively, you begin pawing at your skin with your right hand, but that just spreads the painful sensation there as well.

Moses takes off running again as you collapse to the ground in pain, frantically trying to rub the substance off on your shirt or jacket. But it is no use. Vaguely in the back of your mind, it clicks that this must have been how he killed the others, with a shot of acid to the face, and you are lucky you were able to block it. However, at that moment, you feel anything but lucky.

As tears begin quickly flowing down your face and you clutch your hands protectively against your chest, you feel Holder drop down next to you as he yells into his phone, “Officer down. I repeat, officer down! We need medical assistance at the pier right fuckin’ now!”

He tries to examine your injuries, but you push him off. Through gritted teeth, you growl, “Go! Don’t let him get away.” He hesitates, not wanting to leave you like this, but you scream at him, “GO!”

Holder jumps to his feet and takes off after Moses. You watch them both disappear around the corner, heading into the woods behind the pier. You roll onto your back, sobbing as the pain only seems to be intensifying. Your mind flashes to the mutilated faces of Moses’s other victims and you have to swallow the bile that you feel in your throat.

Suddenly, you hear multiple gunshots from two distinct guns coming from the woods in the direction Holder had just run. Then…. silence.

“Holder!” you scream, but there is no response. “HOLDER!”

When you still don’t hear anything, you try to push yourself up to your knees, but your hands and arms are too damaged and weak to give you enough leverage. So instead, you just collapse back to the ground, panting heavily. You squeeze your eyes shut and say a silent prayer that your partner is okay, though you know even if someone out there hears your plea it could already be too late.

But then, you hear a quick shuffling, and you glance up to see Holder limping quickly out of the woods and heading straight towards you. The left leg of his jeans is stained dark with blood, but he gives you a small smile when he sees you looking at him.

The ache in your chest eases slightly at the sight of your partner, but the pain in your hands is still just as intense. You try to stay strong as Holder collapses down next to you, but you can’t help the small moan that escapes your lips. Holder tries to reach for your hands, but you pull them away. “Don’t. I don’t want it to get on you.”

He thinks for a minute, then pulls off his hoodie and begins using it to gently rub your hands, trying to get some of the remaining acid off. When it doesn't seem to be helping much, he stands up, gathers you into his arms, and hobbles over to the dunk tank set up by the Ferris Wheel. Dipping his hoodie into the water, he begins trying to clear off your skin. While still excruciating, the water does seem to help slightly. You look around, trying to find something to distract you, and your eyes land on Holder’s bloody pants.

“How’s your leg?” you ask, jaw clenched.

“’S okay. Shot just winged it. Looks worse than it feels,” he mutters.

You hesitate a second before asking, “Is he….?”

He nods solemnly. “He pulled a gun. I didn’t have a choice.”

“Yeah, I heard.” You can see the conflict and pain etched on his face over what he had done. “Hey, you did what you had to do. He was going to shoot you… He did shoot you. And now he can’t hurt anyone else like this ever again.” You motion down at your hands before flinching when a flash of pain surges through them. “God! Why does it hurt this badly! Shouldn’t it be stopping by now?”

“I guess it takes some time to get it all off.” Holder says, but you can see the concern in his eyes as he stares down at your hands. You are trying your best not to look, but his face says it all. “Try not ta think about it.”

“That’s a lot easier said than done. I keep trying to think of something else, anything else, and it all comes back to the pain.” You let out another loud whimper as Holder rubs his wet fingers over your damaged skin.

He stares thoughtfully down at your hands for a moment before he finally says, “My moms took me to the circus when I was six. Liz was spendin’ the weekend at a friend’s, and she thought it would be a good bonding time for us or somethin’. And it was… until she forgot me. She just got bored and split, never gave me a second thought.” His eyes have a far-off, haunted look to them and you know whatever he is seeing at the moment, it isn’t you. “She just left….. and I was so fuckin’ scared. I started runnin’ around lookin’ for her and I stumbled into the tent where the clowns were gettin’ ready.”

He shudders at the memory. “They surrounded me, squeezin’ their fuckin’ red noses and tryin’ to make me shitty balloon animals. It was so loud and hectic and I just wanted my moms….”He trails off and you see tears starting to form in the corner of his eyes.

Then he shakes his head and uses his shoulder to wipe his face. “They finally called the ringmaster who then called the police. I hadda wait another few hours before they could finally track her down. She never even knew I was gone.” He sighs. “So, yeah. That’s why I fuckin’ hate clowns.”

“Holder….. I’m so sorry. No wonder you didn’t want to go in there and face him.”

“Yeah? And look where it landed you. If I had just manned up and gone with ya, this woulda never happened.” He gestures angrily to your hands.

You shake your head. “You don’t know that. He could have pulled the gun on both of us before we knew what was happening. Or he might have gone immediately for the acid when he saw there were two of us and then my arm might not have protected me. Holder, this isn’t your fault and you did nothing wrong. Like you said earlier, you never let me down. Ever. And you still had my back when I needed you. Just like you are doing right now. I mean, you were shot and all you care about is trying to help me. How could I ever ask for a better partner than that?”

Holder grins shyly at you. “Yeah…. I’m pretty great, huh?”

You chuckle just as you see the ambulance driving up. Holder picks you back up into his arms and limps over to it. And as they are loading you up to take you to the hospital, you nudge him with your foot. “You’re wrong, Holder. You’re not pretty great…. You’re the best.”