#my heart hurt every time I think about it and the fandom and their angst-loving crap isn’t helping 💔💔💔

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week’s writer spotlight feature is: indelicate/@steddielations ! They have 13 fics in the Stranger Things fandom and all of them are in the Steddie tag!

lees_musings recommends the following works by @steddielations:

A Cup of Good Intentions

Trouble Looks Good On You

Wrap Me Around Your Finger

"their fics are so heartwarming and tender, i read them like comfort food"

"a cup of good intentions was the first steddie fic i read, it has a little velvet box in my heart <3" -- lees_musings

Below the cut, @steddielations answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

They’re just a really fun ship that you can do so many different things with. Just guys who need some healing and loving and I like giving it to them!! Also I see a lot of myself in both Steve and Eddie, so there’s some catharsis in writing them too.

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

Friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, friends with benefits

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

The same as above definitely

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

These are all phenomenal and I think about them every day, they truly stick with me METAMORPHOSES by fastcardotmp3 A Certain Type by ann_anotherthing Sugar on my tongue by deadratz shake and sway me through the night by Craftnarok

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

I feel like I’ve written all the canonverse stuff that I wanted to now, so I’m excited to try out some au’s. Maybe once I finish up my current wips, I have this batman Steve and comic book writer Eddie idea that’s been in my mind forever now

What is your writing process like?

I brainstorm by writing down all the ideas I have for a particular story, then I try to organize it into a plot. Sometimes I just plan scene by scene, but I always write the dialogue first and then build around it.

Do you have any writing quirks?

Usually the best things aren’t added until I’m editing at the end, going back and doing finishing touches. Like with Trouble for instance, I didn’t add the kitchen conversation or the porch swing conversation or the joking scene with Gareth originally, it was all stuff I just decided to add when editing. Same for a lot of my fics, usually the things I get comments about the most are things I almost didn’t add.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

I’m the worst at scheduling and posting so whenever it’s done is when it goes up

Which fic are you most proud of?

I’m most proud of Bleed Me Dry Before You Go because it’s the fic that I was really able to put the most of myself into.

How did you get the idea for Trouble Looks Good On You?

Well I knew I wanted to write a sub Eddie discovery fic, and honestly this just started as like a gag, just thinking about Steve’s jock habit of slapping asses and what would happen if he did that to Eddie, and that’s what awakens it. Then it gradually became something more serious and more thoughtful. I wanted to explore more of Eddie having this past where he’s had bad experiences with certain dynamics, and what it would mean for him to be comfortable enough to get to explore that side of himself with Steve.

When writing Trouble Looks Good On You, what was something you didn’t expect?

It started out as mostly crack so I didn’t expect it to become my longest, most character involved fic. Also I didn’t expect people to read it or like it because it was mostly for myself, so I’ve been very pleasantly surprised and grateful for the response to it.

What inspired Wrap Me Around Your Finger?

I realized I hadn’t written a virgin Eddie fic, and at the same time I wanted to explore more of what Eddie’s aftermath in Hawkins would be like, the full extent of his injuries and his reputation in the town, and maybe Steve helping him out, so it all meshed together. I worked on this for like a year so it had many phases, but adding in some Flight of Icarus lore also inspired me to make Eddie more gritty in this, very stubbornly attached to his independence, and I just love the depth it gave him in that fic in the end.

What was your favorite part to write from Wrap Me Around Your Finger?

Definitely all the banter, especially during the smut scenes, love a silly smut scene. Also can’t forget “I made sure there’s no stairs”

How do/did you feel writing A Cup of Good Intentions?

I cried so many times writing that. I just put myself in the position of Eddie and Wayne, thinking about my relationship with my dad. It was cathartic just writing that familial bond between Eddie and Wayne, and how deep that love goes through mourning and missing each other and then actually getting to reunite. It was an emotional one.

What was the most difficult part of writing A Cup of Good Intentions?

The fic had several different tones from grieving to yearning to suspense and also fluff and romance, so it was hard to blend that all together and make it flow without whiplash. Not sure if I succeeded but it was hard to do.

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

The cold open in Trouble, where it sounds like they’re hooking up but they’re actually moving an amp, probably the most clever innuendo unfolding I’ll ever make

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

I’ve got some stuff for sub Eddie week but after that I’m just focusing on finishing up Trouble finally

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

At the moment that I’m writing this, I don’t know who nominated me, so I want to say thanks so much to that person!! I’m so flattered and I appreciate it!! Also to anyone who reads my fics, thank you genuinely. And to the mods of this blog, you’re all awesome for doing this and you’re so appreciated in the fandom!!

Thank you to our author, indelicate, and our nominator, lees_musings! See more of indelicate's works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

[toonsforkicks22]

Why does Raph have to be the most underrated when he’s been through it the most?

I feel like the Rise fandom barely talks about the relationship between Raph and Splinter.

Like out of all of them, this rat has left a lasting effect on the oldest that seriously needs to be focused on. Both positive and negative.

To me, Rise Raph isn’t just my favorite (and the sole reason I became hooked on ROTTMNT when it premiered in 2018), he’s the character who has held the most emotional baggage.

Some fans have theorized that Raph was practically the father figure to his brothers while Splinter was moping over his lost glory (although he wasn’t neglectful on purpose).

So while we can say Leo and Donnie have some inner resentment toward the rat man, how did Raph feel deep down about carrying such a responsibility for most of his childhood?

He’s 17 now. He’s still a child.

Why I spiritually beg for more Raph-centered episodes in the hopeful new season is because this guy needs not just a break.

He needs a whole arc of relief, happiness, and all the Teddy Bear Town merch.

I also believe Splinter talked to Raph before making Leo leader. He isn’t heartless! (Just look at how Raph reacted at the end of season 2, he’s definitely FEIGNING surprise!).

[sweetmilkespresso]

Treat You Better | CS55-> ? Fic & SMAU

order: Ex!Carlos x ChronicIll!Fem!Reader x Mystery Driver

flavor: angst

ingredients: angst, chronic illness, gaslighting, hurt/comfort, and fluff

You can't help but look at your past relationship and compare it to the one you have now.

bariata's note: Hi, this is my first real fic in the f1 fandom. It's more of test to see if people would be interested in more like this. I hope you enjoy what I've brewed up for you.

Sometimes you can't help but think about what you used to have.

Back when you and Carlos first got together you felt ontop of the world. You were in love and it felt like nothing could stop the rush you felt everytime you touched. You knew in your heart you loved him. You knew in your heart that he loved you too. Well, until you got sick.

It had started with the migraines.

They happened every few weeks coming and going like a tidal wave.

Eventually the migraines got closer and closer together until you got them daily.

They made you nauseous and every light became a potential trigger for a flare up.

You went from following Carlos from race to race to laying alone in the dark of your Monnaco apartment, in far too much pain to do anything.

That's when your relationship began to crumble.

It started with little things.

Carlos would complain about your constant rainchecks and I-Owe-Yous.

Next was the eyeroles and frowns whenever you mentioned your pain.

Overtime your body started to decline. Fatigue and exhaustion plagued your every waking moment. The aches and pains more pronounced as each day passed.

It was hard to stand and walk on your own.

As your body started to deteriorate so did your relationship.

What was originally little quips and snide remarks turned into white hot arguments.

Soon he was referring to you as:

"Too much" and "Exhausting"

You shot back that he was acting childish.

Not everything revolved around him and his needs. Things like this don't suddenly disappear because others find it tiring.

Until one day he'd had enough.

He'd locked you out of the apartment and threw out your things.

The two of you were done.

----

Looking back at that time you had felt so alone.

After you had broken up you moved into a little studio apartment that barely seemed fit for a person let alone a person with needs like yours.

Everything was too cramped and there was little you could do accessibility wise. You were renting the place after all.

----

But then he walked into your life.

It had been gradual at first.

He'd message or call you asking for an update since you'd went quiet on all your socials.

Soon enough he was inviting you over or coming to your place to visit.

It was incredibly cramped with the two of you in your little studio but you made it work.

He was so considerate of what you were feeling.

Whenever you cancelled he would just smile and say "Okay, there's always next time."

He was brazen and open about what he felt.

How he sat you down and point-blank made his intentions of "courting" you very clear.

You remember your first kiss.

You remembered how he cupped your cheek and asked permission before gently pressing your lips together in a chaste kiss.

He'd asked you to move in with him only a few months into your new relationship.

You agreed wholeheartedly. Your lease on your old studio apartment had been coming up anyways.

He happily helped you move in.

He didn't let you lift a single finger. Every little thing was taken care of. He hired a crew to move your stuff from your old studio to his place.

He was certainly full of surprises.

----

"Hey, y/n. Can you come over here and tell me if this is sturdy enough?" He asked you from the tile floor of the bathroom as he screwed a hand rail into the walls.

"What do you think about this one?" He asked as he passed you an ipad with plans for renovating the place.

"We can get the counters lowered and widen the space here so you can wheel your chair through and reach."

He installed ramps for all the doors.

He attached a wheel chair rack to every car he owned.

Since the house was two stories he even hired a guy to build a chair lift so you could reach the second floor.

Once your hands started shaking he would kneel down and tie your shoes for you.

Every little action was full of adoration.

He made it so easy to love him.

----

You're brought back to the present by a loud snore from right next to you.

Looking to your left you are met with the sleeping face of the love of your life.

You thumb over the pictures in your phone.

Smiling at the pictures you press post.

y/ninstagram

y/ninstagram In a world of boys, he's a gentleman.

[yayakoishii]

Sober (Pt. 2) | Sanji x Reader

Fandom: One Piece

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x GN! Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Genre/Tags: Angst, Happy Ending, Sanji being dumb

Summary: You had waited for Sanji to confess to you when he was sober. Except...

A/n: I don't usually write sequels but I felt like it and then it became unexpectedly angsty?? It's still a pretty happy ending imo, so I hope you like this continuation ♡

To new readers, this is a part 2 to my oneshot that I've linked below. You could read this one without reading that, but it won't make as much sense.

Part 1

also available on ao3!

He didn't do it.

The morning after, Sanji woke up with a terrible headache and vague hazy memories from the night before. It was only when he was serving breakfast to everyone and saw you that he remembered the… conversation you two had had. But then he dismissed it, realising it was only a dream. He had drank too much, fallen asleep and dreamt of you. Yeah, that must have been it.

Thinking so, he smiled at you as usual and mooned over Nami and Robin as always, not noticing your hopeful smile turn into a disappointed one.

Every time you popped into the kitchen or tried to strike up a conversation with Sanji after that, the dream would pop up in his mind and he ended up stammering his way out. A few days in, you realised he was avoiding you and started reciprocating by not going out of your way to talk to him either.

Sanji missed you. He didn't realise what the problem was because he wasn't being that weird. Okay, so maybe he was too flustered from his dream where you had held him so close and he had kissed you (he could still feel the phantom warmth of your breath on his mouth, the wet press of your lips on his cheek) and it was difficult to talk to you about anything without feeling the urge to do that with you. Maybe he had shut down one conversation too many but now you were avoiding him back and he didn't know how to fix it.

He couldn't just tell you about that dream he had had. You would slap him and be disgusted and freak out. Even the thought of that sunk his heart. He could tolerate being just a crewmate to you for the rest of your lives, but he couldn't tolerate the thought of you hating him forever. But without talking about the dream, he couldn't explain himself either.

A week passed like that, the two of you awkward and clumsy around each other. Everyone else noticed and Nami had tried to talk to both you and Sanji about it but neither of you let her know anything. They were all confused and Luffy just wanted you both to go back to being your usual selves because it was weird even for him. Of course, no one had the gall to say it to your faces, and Nami had stopped Luffy from saying it when he tried.

Fortunately, a new island appeared and the usual straw hat cycle of finding a city in trouble and accidentally saving them played its hand. The resulting party had you downing a few bottles of wine, although Sanji knew how much you hated the taste of alcohol.

"Why would I drink that?" Your face had scrunched up the first time Sanji had questioned you about it. "It doesn't taste good to me at all. I'd rather drink the juice you make for me, Sanji."

There was no one on the ship who praised Sanji's cooking as much as you did. You didn't hesitate to compliment his food every single day and while Sanji was very secure in his cooking ability, it was still validating to hear how much you loved his food anyway.

This past week you hadn't complimented him even once. You had never gone this long without doing it so Sanji knew you had to be really upset with him. He had to try and fix this as soon as he could.

Even during the party, his head was full of thoughts of you. When he looked out for you, he found you slumped over a table, empty wine bottles lying all around you. Without thinking, Sanji made his way over and cleared away the bottles so that you wouldn't accidentally break one and hurt yourself. You stayed silent as you watched him.

"Do you want to go back to the Sunny, my dear?" Sanji looked at you finally, trying to exude his usual self. You shot him a glare and pouted, your cheeks puffing up in what was unmistakably anger.

"Go away," you hissed at him. Sanji had to blink away the thought of how much you resembled a cat in that moment. "I don' like lyin' liars who lie to me."

Sanji had expected you to be angry at him but that statement confused him. He had avoided you, yes, but he could not remember lying to you. You were not one to lie so perhaps there had been a misunderstanding between you two?

"Which lie are you talking about, (y/n)-chan?" He asked carefully. You froze and shot him another glare. Even angry, you looked cute.

"Which lie?" You sounded outraged. "How many lies have you told me, huh?!"

"Wh– that's not what I meant!" Sanji tried to calm you down but you stood up abruptly and started walking back to the Sunny. The chef was stunned for a second. You never just up and leave. He had really badly fucked this up. So of course he had to run after you. Sanji caught up to you halfway, skidding to a halt in your path so you couldn't move. "Wait! I really don't know what lie you're talking about, my love, but I'm sorry for it. I will do whatever it takes to beg for your forgiveness and then try my best to make the lie a reality."

You stopped glaring and shot him a heartbroken look instead. Sanji felt like someone had stabbed him in the heart. Why did you look like that over… him?

"That's what it was supposed to be," you said quietly. The two of you were quite a way away from the din of the party so Sanji could make out the words. He was getting more confused but he had to be patient and hear you out. He couldn't fix his mistake if he didn't know what he had done. "You said that if this was real… you wanted to hold me. You said you would tell me how much I mean to you. That you would kiss me and tell me how much you love me. So why haven't you, Sanji? Do you not feel those things anymore? Or was it all a lie?"

Sanji froze. That was… that was the dream he had had! How did you know– Oh. Oh he had been so stupid. It hadn't been a dream at all. It had been real. And he had fucked it all up by avoiding you after all of that.

"Maybe I was the one who was an idiot for thinking you could possibly like me," you were crying now, tears running down your cheeks. Sanji's heart hurt at the sight; he had wanted to be the reason for your smile and laughter, not for your tears. He had hurt you, the person most precious to him. You suddenly grabbed his collar and pushed him into the tree and he just let you, mind too jumbled up to say anything. "I'm a fool. God, I was so stupidly happy that night, I couldn't sleep. I thought all my dreams had come true. I thought we would be in love. I thought I could finally wake you up with a kiss and tell you how much I loved you too before we fell asleep. I thought I would make you your favourite dish for your birthday and, and go do one of those love compatibility readings at the fortune telling shop for fun! I thought, I thought of so many things I wanted to do with you and you… Sanji, you never came. You never told me those words you had said when you were drunk."

He wanted all of that too. Sanji wanted to do all those things you had said and even more.

Your tightened fists loosened as you breathed heavily, still crying. Even like this, you were still the most beautiful person he had ever seen. If Sanji had had any doubts before this, then they had no place in his heart any longer. All of him, mind, body and soul, was yours. He could not let you go on with this misunderstanding any longer.

"Guess they were wrong," you chuckled wetly, stepping back. "A drunk man's words aren't his truest thoughts after all. They are just his–"

"They are," Sanji said roughly, stepping back into your bubble. You didn't look up at him, just stared down at your feet, still crying silently. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for taking all this time, my love, when you deserved to be told everyday that I'm but a fool for your attention. I was in the wrong, thinking that night had been a mere dream when my imagination cannot even begin to dream up the warmth you possess. I'm sorry and I will spend the rest of my life earning your forgiveness, if only you would find it within yourself to give me one more chance."

Your eyes looked hopeless, and you just smiled weakly at him.

"Hasn't it been enough, Sanji?" Your voice wavered. "Don't play with my heart anymore. I love you too much to survive another–"

Sanji pulled you into a tight hug, his arms surrounding you completely. Although you were still mad at him, your body automatically relaxed at the familiar comforting scent of him. "I don't have the words to even begin to apologise for what I have done. But I swear to you, love, I will make up for my mistake in every action from now on. I will leave no doubt in your mind of the fact that I'm madly, stupidly, disgustingly deeply in love with you. So much that my own heart isn't enough to hold all that love."

"You're like a dream, Sanji," you said quietly into his ear, heart racing yet mind calm. "A dream that you can't quite remember when morning comes. A dream that the more you try to grasp it, the more it slips from you. But even if you're a dream like that, I want to believe in that dream. I'm stupid enough to want to get my heart hurt again because it has chosen you and refuses to choose any other. So you better show me that my heart made the right decision."

"I will," he promised, pressing you harder into him. You were clinging onto him just as hard, but your tears had finally stopped.

"I don't like lying liars who lie, Sanji," you repeated your words from before. The chef smiled to himself. "You better keep your word this time."

Sanji hummed and let you go only to cup your cheeks in the palm of his hands. You looked at him, still a mess from crying and drinking. You were starting to look sleepy but Sanji felt like you had blown all his sleep away.

"When I'm sober," you paused to give a tiny yawn that had Sanji's heart clenching from how adorable it was, "you better be next to me."

Sanji smiled and picked you up bridal style. You curled into him and fell asleep in two seconds, barely catching his soft reply.

"I'll be there."

°•❀•°

All likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! ♡

★ Taglist:

@phantasmagoricalzenith | @secretlife028 | @100520s | @toertchen | @suga-tofu | @theluckyplaces | @luvfzw | @katiemrty | @writingmysanity | @akaashi-todorki | @yuninha2004

+ @vespidphoenix | @cobainlover | @blue-chup | @yourboyhack (tagging because you seemed interested in pt. 2; sorry if it's a bother!)

[mimsynims]

Fool For Love

part 1

~~~

Author’s Note: I have barely been writing anything (I usually write for the Good Omens fandom) since I started playing BG3, but then a few days ago I felt compelled to start on *something* for this fandom that has completely taken over my mind. I usually post on AO3 but for some reason I wanted to post a first teaser-chapter here on Tumblr.

So here it is, my first (unbeta’d) venture into the BG3 fandom. I have no idea where this is going except that the endgame is a happy ending for Tav and Astarion.

~~~

Astarion x reader/Tav

Tags: (Mild?) angst, pining, pining while fucking

Summary: You thought knew what you were doing when you let Astarion into your bed. He doesn’t have feelings for you, and vice versa. Only… Now you do.

~~~

You watch him laugh as Shadowheart leans closer to whisper something in his ear, and the unwarranted jealousy that has your chest aching leaves a sour taste in your mouth. He may be sharing your bed now and then, but you have no right to him. For all you know, he might be spending his other nights with each and everyone in your camp. And that is his prerogative; pretty words aside, Astarion has never promised you anything other than fantastic sex.

A bitter smile tugs at the corner of your mouth. You are sure he thinks he has you wrapped around his finger. That he has convinced you that this means more to him than it actually does. The sigh leaves your lips before you can stop it, but it doesn’t really matter, because none of the others hear you, too busy listening to Gale regaling another story about his ex.

Annoyed with yourself you rise, an excuse prepared on your tongue in case anyone questions your departure from the merriment. The lie remains unspoken and you’re relieved when you can slink into the shadows unnoticed. Relieved, but also perhaps a bit sad. It’s funny, you’ve spent most of your life aiming for anonymity, to stay under the radar. The unexpected friendships you’ve made since the kidnapping has unravelled all of that. Have made you aware of the dark and empty space in your heart you’ve successfully ignored until now.

Except it isn’t empty anymore.

It happened gradually, and without your permission. A dashing pale rogue stealing your affection when you weren’t looking. Because yes, while you know that his only reason for talking his way into your bed was manipulation, he has unintentionally shown you glints of his real self during your time together. He’s a complicated mess, just like yourself, and you love him. Love everything about him, even though it hurts.

So maybe he has you wrapped around his finger after all, because if you had any sense, you would end this thing between you. You should, but you are a selfish being. One day Astarion will realise that he doesn’t need to use sex to feel safe with you, but until that day comes, you will greedily accept every scrap of attention he gives you.

“Pathetic.”

“Talking to yourself, darling? Or have you made another furry friend when I wasn’t looking?” Astarion gracefully — why is that even when he’s pleasantly drunk, the elf manages to appear graceful? — sits down next to you in the grass. “You already have three of them in the camp, surely that’s enough?”

“Three?” You try to gather your thoughts, but it’s difficult when he is this close to you. “Scratch, the owlbear cub, and…?”

“Halsin, of course.”

“Of course,” you repeat dumbly. True, the druid was in his bear form when you first met, but something in Astarion’s demeanour makes you suspect that that isn’t what he meant. Images of Astarion undressing Halsin floods your mind. Halsin is a handsome and powerful man, so it would make sense for Astarion to seduce him too. Just like he had with you.

“Why are we sitting here, by the way?” Astarion shifts to lean on one hand, his face tilted back to take in the full moon. “Wanted a more romantic setting than your tent this time, darling?”

Oh. So you are the chosen one for the night. You were certain it would be Shadowheart, considering.

“Are you alright, Tav?”

For a moment you let yourself believe that the hesitation you hear in his voice is founded on genuine concern. That he truly cares beyond the deep-seated need for self-preservation ingrained in him. But the illusion can only last so long. You know enough of his history not to hold his actions against him, but right now you’re not in a headspace to pretend that everything is fine. And yet, you try.

“Of course I am.” You hold back a flinch when you hear the acid lacing your words like a toxin. It gives too much away, so you do the only thing you can think of. Your hands are already grabbing fabric before you have finished your thought, pulling him closer before he has time to examine your statement too closely. Before he can figure out your lie.

The night air is cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the hot mouth claiming yours. You might regret it tomorrow, but right now, this is exactly what you need. In Astarion’s arms, you can forget everything but him and what he gives you. Around other people he can seem petty and cruel, but when he’s with you like this… this is different.

Or least that’s what you tell yourself. You cling to the illusion that this is special, and you succeed — until you feel yourself leaning your head to the side, offering your neck.

Astarion doesn’t ask it of you, he never does. It’s always you that wordlessly gives him what you believe is what he truly wants.

And this time it reminds you that deep down, this is just a transactional act for Astarion. Nothing else. He doesn’t care about you, not really.

After you’re both sated, you drift off to sleep without meaning to. It has been a taxing day, both physically and mentally, and the last thing you see is Astarion looking down at you with an indiscernible expression in his red eyes. Almost as if you’re a puzzle he can’t figure out. Except that doesn’t make any sense, because to you it feels like he saw right through you the first time you met.

Some time later, you’re vaguely aware of strong arms lifting you from the damp grass. You must’ve made some noise, because you feel a warm breath against your ear.

“Hush, my darling, you don’t want the others to wake up.”

Exhaustion drags you back under, and when you next wake up, you’re in your tent. Alone.

~~~

[newobsessionweekly]

To protect and to love

Main masterlist | The Rookie masterlist

Tim Bradford x rookie!reader Fandom: The rookie

Summary: You unintentionally make Tim jealous, resulting with nothing good but a confession.

Action | Angst | Fluff

A/N: It's a long one I know. But I HAD to put some action and angst in it, i couldn't help it. Honestly I love it and I love to write about Tim. I hope you like it as much as I do. Have a wonderful day bubs and take care of yourselves. Lots of love

Warning: Mention of hurting, one "fucking" slipped somewhere in this, not proofread yet.

Requested: Yes Words: 4.4k GIF is not mine, credits to the owner!

The atmosphere in the bar was alive with the buzz of conversation and the clinking of glasses as you settled in with your colleagues. It was one of the many nights you and the rookies met after a long shift. It was some bond between the four of you even since academy and it felt nice. They started to feel like a family to you.

As Nolan approached with three drinks in his hands, the fourth person occupied the chair beside you, making your mouth to open in surprise and your heart to race. Tim, looking so perfectly even out of his uniform, so casually in his clothes, wearing the same grumpy expression.

"Oh, sorry sir, didn't know you'd join us today." Nolan excused himself for ordering only three drinks.

"Yeah, didn't know I'd be here either." Tim murmured under his breath, giving you an acknowledging smile. After weeks of persuasions from both you and Lucy, he finally gave up.

"I'm glad you came." you told him as you turned to give him a smile. He did the same, but it wasn't a natural one.

"Yeah, well, don't get used to it. This isn't really my scene." Tim admitted sharply, the wave of adrenaline and excitement that flowed over you, broke as soon as his grumpy expression appeared.

"So, Tim, what do you usually do after work?" Lucy asked, flashing him a mischievous grin.

Tim shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. "Usually just head home and catch up on some game I missed or hit the gym. Not really into the whole social scene."

"Come on, Tim, live a little!" Lucy chimed in, nudging him playfully. "You gotta let loose every once in a while."

You couldn't help but smile at the banter between your colleagues, grateful for the opportunity to spend time with them outside of the confines of work. But as you glanced over at Tim, you noticed a hint of tension in his behaviour, his jaw clenched slightly as he watched the scene unfold.

"So, Y/N, how's life as Tim's rookie treating you?" Nolan asked, turning to you with a grin.

You chuckled, shaking your head. "It's definitely been an adventure. Tim keeps me on my toes, that's for sure."

Despite being his rookie for some time now, you had never spent much time with Tim outside of work. But tonight was different, and you were determined to make the most of it.

Tim's gaze flickered to you, "If it's not a living hell, it means you have potential to become a good cop." you squinted at his words only for a few seconds before a sense of pride to wash over you as you smiled at him "But you're not there yet, so keep your head in the game."

Before the conversation could continue, you excused yourself to go buy another round of drinks. As you made your way to the bar, you felt the weight of several lingering gazes on your back, casting a subtle aura of discomfort. Some eyes stopped over your body as you asked the bartender for a refill, giving them one of the best views. Tim's eyes followed each glance, noting the subtle gestures and expressions of the onlookers. And he counted them one by one.

The handsome bartender took his time to do the refill, as his eyes examined you, flashing you a charming smile.

"Hey there, beautiful." his voice was low and seductive if you think about it, but it wasn't close enough to the one you actually found yourself drawn to. "What brings you here tonight?"

As Tim was left alone at the table with the rookies, he found it almost impossible to focus on their conversation, as his gaze kept drifting back to where you stood at the bar, engrossed in conversation with the bartender.

"Oh, just blowing off some steam after a long day at work." you responded politely and considered giving him a chance.

At this point, you couldn't shut people off for some feelings that are in vain anyway. You need to go back in the game if you didn't wanted to be a single 45 year old cop, redecorating your house on your own between shifts like Nolan. That wasn't nice, you scolded yourself for the thoughts.

"Sounds like you could use a drink then. Let me guess, you're a cop, right? You've got that look about you." the bartender asked with a grin as he wiped down the counter with a cloth.

Tim's jaw clenched with frustration, a surge of jealousy coursing through him as he observed the subtle flirtation unfolding before his eyes. He couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at him, a sense of possessiveness clawing at his chest as he struggled to contain his emotions.

"Tim, is everything okay?" Lucy's voice broke through his reverie, her concerned expression drawing his attention.

Tim forced a tight-lipped smile, his features taut with tension as he tried to mask his inner turmoil. "Yeah, I'm fine," he replied curtly, though his tone betrayed his true feelings.

You chuckled at the bartender assumption, shaking your head "No, no. Nothing like that. I work for the city, but I surely don't have what it takes to be a cop." you admitted, drinks in your hand, lingering a little bit more.

"Ah, close enough though." he leaned over the counter, taking his chance to have a closer look at you. "Mark" he introduced himself with a friendly smile.

"Y/N" you responded politely, as you played his game, leaning in his direction.

"So, what do you say we grab a drink together sometime, Y/N ? I know a great place just around the corner." he proposed, his eyes sparkling with genuine interest.

Mark's easy charm and attentive conversation had left a positive impression on you, and you found yourself looking forward to meeting him.

But Lucy wasn't convinced by Tim's response, her brow furrowing with concern as she regarded him intently. "Are you sure? You seem a little...off," she persisted, her voice laced with concern.

Tim hesitated, torn between his desire to confide in Lucy and his instinct to keep his emotions guarded. "It's nothing, just...work stuff," he deflected, his tone clipped as he avoided her gaze.

Lucy nodded in understanding, didn't want to cross any boundaries, so she just let the subject drop. Anyone could see from afar that Tim was uncomfortable, little did anyone know he was feeling like that because you're not around.

Not even Tim knew why he couldn't take his eyes off of you or why he felt like his heart tightened with every laugh travelling to the table.

"Yeah, we could do that." you replied to Mark, considering his offer before hearing the unmistakable beat of footsteps you can't possibly erase from your mind.

Unable to stand by and watch any longer, Tim made his way over to you, determination etched on his face. "Hey, everything okay here?"

You glanced up, surprised to see Tim standing before you. "Oh, uh, yeah, everything's fine. Just getting the drinks."

The handsome bartender eyed Tim warily, sensing the tension in the air. "Is this your boyfriend?"

Tim's jaw clenched at the question, his gaze narrowing as he locked eyes with the stranger. "Something like that."

"Uh, Mark, this is Tim, my trainer from the job." you clarified, trying to make as bearable as possible the atmosphere shift.

Mark nodded in understanding, though a flicker of confusion crossed his features at Tim's abrupt attitude and he regarded your TO with a polite smile, extending a hand in greeting.

"Hey there, I'm Mark. Nice to meet you," he said, his tone friendly despite the underlying tension.

But Tim's response was anything but friendly. With a frustrated growl, he slammed his fist against the counter, the sound echoing through the bar. "Excuse me," he muttered tersely before turning on his heel and storming out of the bar.

His fists were clenched with frustration and your heart sank with a mixture of confusion and disappointment. You watched him go, your mind reeling with unanswered questions and a deep sense of hurt.

Confusion clouded your thoughts as you tried to make sense of Tim's sudden outburst. Had you done something wrong? Was he angry with you? The uncertainty gnawed at you.

But beneath the confusion, a flicker of disappointment burned within you. You had hoped that tonight would be a chance for you and Tim to bond outside of work, to bridge the gap between you. But his sudden departure had shattered those hopes.

Tim's mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Jealousy burned hot within him, a primal instinct that had ignited the moment he saw another man hitting on you.

But beneath the jealousy, a deeper sense of frustration simmered. Frustration at himself for allowing his feelings for you to cloud his judgment, for letting his jealousy get the better of him. He knew he had no right to stake a claim on you, no right to feel possessive or territorial. But try as he might, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gripped him whenever he saw you with another man.

As he made his way through the crowded streets, Tim's thoughts were consumed by visions of you and the handsome bartender, laughing and flirting as if he didn't exist. The image burned like a brand on his mind, fueling his anger and driving him further into the depths of despair.

Monday morning is usually a pain in the ass, but with the events that occurred last Friday at the bar, and Tim's attitude towards you, harsher and grumpier than usual, it was a morning out of the burning hell. Your heart was racing as he instructed you, curt and on point, on what will happen next.

May have been a few days since the incident at the bar, but the memory lingered in the back of your mind like a stubborn shadow. Despite your best efforts to push it aside, the tension between you and Tim was palpable, a silent undercurrent that simmered beneath the surface.

You knew that he was testing you, pushing you to your limits in an attempt to prepare you for the cop life, but beneath his tough exterior, you couldn't help but sense a hint of something else—something that felt uncomfortably like jealousy.

The morning sunlight bathed the patrol car's interior as you and Tim cruised through the LA streets, the radio's steady hum punctuating the silence between you.

Your usual chitchat about the rookie book is now replaced by a brooding silence, his knuckles white as they gripped the steering wheel. You stole a glance at him, noting the furrowed brow and the distant look in his eyes, and couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness at the gulf that seemed to have grown between you.

The radio crackled to life, dispatch's voice cutting through the quiet."7-Adam-19, we have a noise complaint at 123 Oak Street. Caller reports a disturbance in one of the apartments. Please respond."

Tim glanced at you, and you tried to read something in his eyes as he keyed the mic. "Copy that. We're en route."

There was nothing to be seen in his eyes, but you took your time to admire him in silence, your mind playing all the memories since you became his rookie, couldn't stop the thought that maybe the flicker that burned inside every time you touched his arm by mistake, every time he smiled at you, every time he made you smile, was indeed something. You always tend to question your feelings, rather they're justified or in vain, and this one was surely in vain.

There's no way a man like him, so put together, so ambitious — so handsome— would have even the thought of liking a rookie, you thought. You considered this whole situation too stupid, probably every single woman that comes past Tim fall in love with him.

As you pulled up to the apartment complex, the sounds of raised voices and slamming doors greeted you, sending a shiver down your spine.

"This could get messy," you muttered, your voice tense with apprehension.

"And we're prepared for this kind of situations. But if you don't feel like it, you can give up the badge." his voice is harsh and his expression is far from nice.

"That's not what I meant." you mouthed under your breath and followed Tim into the building.

As you reached the door of the apartment in question, you exchanged a wary glance with Tim before knocking firmly. The door swung open to reveal a chaotic scene inside, a group of men engaged in a heated argument that showed no signs of abating.

"LAPD! Hands where I can see them!" your voice cut through the chaos like a knife, but if anything, it only seemed to stoke the flames.

In an instant, the situation erupted into chaos, with shouts and curses filling the air as fists flew and bodies collided. You and Tim sprang into action, replaying in your mind everything you learned from the academy and your TO. But just as you thought you had gained the upper hand, the situation took a sudden turn for the worse. A shout rang out from the far end of the room, followed by the sound of shattering glass as a fight broke out between two of them.

With adrenaline coursing through your veins, you and Tim moved swiftly to intervene, but the situation quickly spiraled out of control. Amidst the chaos, you found yourself grappling with one of them, seven feet tall man and muscular construction, your heart pounding in your chest as you fought to maintain control.

Tim knew not to mess up his personal life and his professional one, he did it once and didn't end well. He weighed his decision over and over again, continuously adding pros and cons to the equation. It was safe for you to deal with this kind of men? Probably not, but if he would go soft on you and pick an easy target it would mean he let his feelings step out and fail you as your TO.

All Tim could do in this situation was to have your back no matter what and make sure you get home safe to meet with that stupid bartender. That thought run fast like the wind and bought back your laughter from that night hunting him once more. The lovely eyes you gave that man and the smile so bright, a smile he saw for the first time.

Your focus narrowed on subduing the individual before they could inflict harm. In the heat of the moment, you failed to notice another figure advancing towards you from the side.

Suddenly, a sharp blow struck your side, sending a jolt of pain radiating through your body. Gasping, you stumbled backward, momentarily disoriented as the room spun around you.

"Y/L/N!" Tim's voice cut through the haze of pain, his tone laced with concern as he rushed to your side. "You okay?"

Grimacing, you nodded weakly, trying to push through the pain as adrenaline surged through your veins. But with each breath, the pain in your side seemed to intensify, a constant reminder of the mistake you had made in letting your guard down.

Tim's grip tightened on your arm, his eyes scanning you for signs of injury as he assessed the situation. "Officer down," he said firmly into his radio, his voice tinged with urgency "Send backup and R/A."

Despite the pain coursing through your body, you forced yourself to focus, pushing aside the fear and uncertainty that threatened to overwhelm you. With Tim's support, you managed to regain your footing, the determination in his eyes giving you the strength to move on.

When one of them hurt you, the rest managed to move the circus outside the building, now armed and pointing the guns to their heads. You handcuffed your attacker and Tim dealt with the one stuck under you in the ambush. As you pushed the man down to the car with trembling feet, barely holding steady, you heard sirens cut through the air, signaling the arrival of backup. With a sense of relief washing over you, you spared a quick glance toward the parking lot, where a team of officers rushed between the men, their presence a welcome sight amidst the chaos.

"LAPD! Drop your weapon!" Nolan began, approaching the chaos as their eyes counted the police officers surrounding them. "Hands where I can see them, on the ground, face down!" he demanded as you and Tim put the suspects in the backseat of the car. "Spread your arms and legs!"

As the men followed Nolan's instructions, you tried to join your colleagues and handcuff the suspects, but Tim's hand stopped you in place. "Go sit down. You did enough." he instructed, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Despite the urgency of the situation, there was a steely resolve in his eyes as he focused on ensuring your safety above all else. Feeling a surge of frustration welling up inside you, you opened your mouth to protest, but Tim's stern gaze silenced you before you could speak. With a heavy heart, you complied with his orders, a paramedic guiding you to the ambulance for a search.

The sound of Tim's voice rang out through the chaos, his words echoing in your mind as he barked orders to his fellow officers. But amidst the chaos and confusion, it was clear that Tim's focus was solely on the task at hand, his attention unwavering as he worked to bring the situation under control. And as you watched from the sidelines, a sense of hurt and disappointment washed over you, the sting of Tim's words cutting deep as you struggled to make sense of the situation.

With the suspects now securely restrained, Tim turned his attention back to you, his expression tight with frustration as he approached. "What were you thinking, officer Y/L/N?" he demanded, his voice laced with anger as he confronted you.

Caught off guard by his harsh tone, you felt a lump form in your throat as you struggled to find the right words to respond. "I...I didn't see them, sir," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper as you met Tim's gaze.

But Tim's expression remained unforgiving, his frustration palpable as he glared down at you. "You could have gotten yourself killed out there," he snapped, his words biting as he chastised you for your reckless actions.

As Tim guided you back to the patrol car and began the journey back to the station, the air between you was heavy with tension. There was an awkward silence that seemed to stretch on endlessly, punctuated only by the sound of the radio crackling with dispatch updates.

As Tim sat behind the wheel, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions churned within him. He couldn't shake the sense of shame that gnawed at him, a bitter reminder of how his feelings for you had clouded his judgment during the call.

Seeing you hurt had unleashed a torrent of emotions within him, overriding his instincts as a cop and blinding him to the dangers that still lurked nearby. In that moment, all he could think about was protecting you, shielding you from harm at any cost.

But in his haste to ensure your safety, he had let his guard down, allowing the suspects to slip through his fingers and jeopardizing the success of the mission. The weight of his mistake bore down on him like a crushing weight, a stark reminder of the consequences of letting his personal feelings interfere with his professional duties.

As he drove back to the station, the silence in the car was suffocating, amplifying the cacophony of thoughts that raged within his mind. He couldn't shake the sense of disappointment that gripped him, a bitter reminder of how he had let you down when you needed him most. When you needed him to be your role model, the person you should've learned from.

You couldn't help but feel a sense of unease gnawing at you, the weight of Tim's disappointment hanging heavily in the air. With each passing moment, the silence grew more oppressive, suffocating you with its intensity.

Glancing over at Tim, you feel a pang of guilt at the sight of his clenched jaw and furrowed brow. His usually expressive eyes were now unreadable, a mask of frustration and disappointment that sent a shiver down your spine.

As you wrestled with your own feelings of guilt and self-doubt, you couldn't shake the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. Tim's silent treatment spoke volumes, a clear indication of his disapproval of your actions during the call.

Despite your best efforts to break the silence, Tim remained resolutely silent, his gaze fixed firmly on the road ahead. "Tim, are you okay?" you insisted. But your words seemed to fall on deaf ears, his gaze fixed straight ahead as if lost in thought.

"I'm fine, officer Y/L/N." he muttered tersely, his voice clipped and devoid of emotion. But you could see the tension in his shoulders, the furrowed brow that betrayed the turmoil that raged within him.

You weren't about to let him brush you off that easily. "No, you're not," you insisted, your voice tinged with concern. "Something's bothering you, Tim. I can tell."

He shot you a sharp glance, his eyes flashing with irritation. "I said I'm fine," he snapped, his tone sharp and biting. But you could see the pain that flickered behind his eyes, a vulnerability that he tried so desperately to hide.

"Tim, please," you pressed, reaching out to touch his arm gently. "You know you can talk to me, right? Whatever it is, I'm here for you."

For a moment, Tim seemed to waver, his defenses crumbling under the weight of your words. But then, as quickly as it had come, the moment passed, and he withdrew from your touch, his expression hardening once more.

"I don't need your pity, Y/N," he spat, his voice laced with bitterness. "I can handle this on my own."

But you refused to back down, refusing to let him push you away. "This isn't about pity, Tim," you countered, your voice steady and unwavering. "I care about you, and I want to help. But you have to let me in."

Tim's jaw clenched with frustration, a surge of emotion bubbling to the surface as he struggled to contain his feelings. "I cannot change my feelings for you, believe me I fucking tried," he blurted out, the words tumbling from his lips before he could stop them.

The admission hung heavy in the air between you, a raw and unfiltered glimpse into the depths of his heart. And as you looked into his eyes, you could see the pain and anguish that swirled within them, a reflection of your own inner turmoil.

"I need to know that you're safe. Because I care about you," he continued, his voice softer now, tinged with vulnerability. "I kind of like you. And I lost control today because you got hurt. And I lost it too at the bar because you were flirting with that good of nothing. "

The words hung in the air between you, a silent acknowledgment of the truth that lay beneath the surface. And as you stood there, locked in a moment of raw honesty, you knew that your relationship with Tim would never be the same again.

The weight of his confession hung between you like a heavy fog, casting a shadow over the otherwise quiet interior of the car.

You glanced over at Tim, his expression guarded and unreadable as he focused on the road ahead. The air was heavy with emotion, a silent barrier that seemed to stretch on for miles.

"Tim, I..." you began, your voice faltering as you struggled to find the right words. But Tim cut you off before you could finish, his tone sharp and dismissive.

"I don't want to talk about it, Y/N," he snapped, his hands tightening around the steering wheel. "Just forget I said anything."

But you couldn't let it go that easily, couldn't let him push you away when all you wanted was to be there for him. "Tim, please," you pleaded, reaching out to touch his arm gently. "I need you to understand that I feel the same way."

His eyes flickering with uncertainty as he glanced over at you. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I mean what I said." taking a deep breath, you summoned all of your courage, pushing aside your fears and doubts as you spoke "I have feelings for you, ok? But I tried to push them away because I didn't want to complicate things. But after you told me..."

Tim's grip on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles turning white as he processed your words. For a long moment, neither of you spoke, the silence stretching between you like an unbridgeable chasm.

Then, finally, Tim let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping with defeat. "I don't know what to say, Y/N," he admitted, his voice tinged with resignation "Things are complicated now, for sure." he chuckled, smiling at you as he parked the car.

"You and me, dinner. Tonight." you demanded, trying to play it off like nothing happened. "We talk about it like grownups."

"It's a date, then." he nodded in agreement, forcing his lips to form a straight line, to hide his dumb smile. "I-I.. I mean if you want to." he stumbled upon his words, scratching the back of his head nervously.

"Yes, Tim. I'd love that." you smiled at him as you both took the men from the backseat and guided them through the corridor of the station.

"Tim and Y/N sitting in a tree—" one of the men started mocking the scene they witnessed, but you and Tim cut him off

"Shut up."

[demonslayedher]

Low-Key Married AU fluff

Kochou said that I was disliked, so I asked her if she disliked me too. For someone so quick to have a smiling response to everything, she struggled to reply. She was the one who proposed marriage and swayed me, so I had thought that meant she had feelings for me. There would be no other way to read it. However, with as unbothered as she is by my absence, I have to wonder.

It’s been ten days since I had last contact with her. I went home to the Butterfly Mansion, but she had just departed for a mission, so I didn’t stay long so as not to trouble the girls. It may still be a few days before I can return again, but it’s always likely she’ll be busy. She’s incredible in that way, taking on all the care of our injured Corp members in addition to her Pillar missions. It must be in her personality to keep adding to what keeps her busy, like taking me in as though I looked like I needed the care. Although the times we’ve spent together have been nice, I don’t require it. My duties call for me to always be ready for battle, and I’ve always kept my heart steady.

So has she. We are Pillars first, and no amount of affection can sway us—whether an abundance or a lack.

I’m not bothered by lacking something I didn’t deserve in the first place.

Last night again, I was too late to prevent a family from being slaughtered. There were no survivors this time, aside from the eldest child who was still ravenous with a recent transformation. Having to chase him down and keep him from harming anyone else kept me off the trail of the progenitor of demons, who had to have been close by. For centuries, he’s evaded us this way over and over, sacrificing entire families to throw us off his trail. If I were to chide myself over every failure, I would have lost the ability to do anything ages ago. Each time, the anger is something I carry with me, to push myself harder the next time, and the next. Any extent more that I can push myself may be the difference to someone’s survival, no one can afford to lose their life over any of my own lost confidence.

“CAW!! TOMIOKA GIYUUUU! NEWS FOR TOMIOKA GIYUUUU!”

Each time it's a crow I think I recognize, my stomach drops. My mind is already playing the words I dread to hear, as though trying to protect my mind once I someday hear them.

"Kochou Shinobu has died."

Even if I hear them, I'm a Pillar first. That was what we promised each other. I'll always do as I must.

The crow says nothing as it delivers a letter.

YES, YES, I KNOW, THIS FANDOM HAS TURNED ME INTO SHIPPER TRASH. For this pairing, it was more specifically my own joke AU which later bit me in the back and made me start really, really enjoying GiyuShino (which, for the record, I do not consider canon). Was throwing ideas back and forth with @reicchel again the other day and so here we are with ship content!

Part of the reason I love the Low-Key Married AU (in which it's mostly canon as usual, except that Shinobu and Giyuu have been married for over a year or so, and it's not a secret but they make such little deal about it that many people don't even know they're married) is that it's a frame through which to see every interaction and either make it really, really funny, or very, very, sad. Everything was supposed to be funny, but it keeps hurting, hahaha... aaahhhh.

For instance, in a regular romcom situation, it should be funny that Kanzaburo doesn't deliver all of Giyuu's letters. Knowing these two, who might had started this whole "well, we'll be a couple when we have time" thing by actively writing regular letters, this could had simply given the impression that the other person wasn't writing as much, so they both naturally decreased frequency to match. It's a little lonely, but neither one is going to push the other for more attention.

No!! I refuse to let this post end with angst! Time for omake!!!

[voxisdaddy]

Rewritten

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

C/TW: Implied cheating/infidelity, depression

Type: Oneshot | Angst but bittersweet ending

In which even if you were meant to love Lucifer, despite everything’s that happened, you could still love another.

It was difficult existing sometimes.

You felt like you served no purpose. Like you failed the one thing you were meant to do. What was that one thing?

Betrothed to Lucifer—the favourite son of the Heavenly Father.

Things were so heavenly between the two of you at first. Lucifer, while not enthusiastic about being given a bride, quickly fell for you. And you? Well, you were made for him. Of course you loved him. Anyone who knew of you two, all agree that you two are a match made in heaven.

If only that lasted the eternity that was promised to you.

When the creation of Adam and Lilith came to be, your joyous attitude to this new wonder quickly started to sour. It only worsened when you eventually found out the truth. Lucifer didn’t love you anymore. Whatever he felt for you seemed to pale in comparison to what he felt for Lilith.

Then the creation of Eve came to be. Lucifer, ever the dreamer and occasional trouble maker, meddled in that too—carving an ugly mark into heavens plans which would lead to the banishment of Lucifer and his new bride.

You had spent many nights and days sobbing over the man. How could he love another? How could he promise to love you for eternity and lie? How could he sneak off and…never formally end things with you if he no longer loved you?

Your heart ached for centuries. He betrayed you. Angels…shouldn’t be capable of that. But he had it in him to do it anyways.

Naturally you’d find a weird sort of friendship with Adam. It wasn’t long until he came to Heaven as the first human soul when you became acquainted. You could see through him—his attitude that everything’s okay. You saw that same look in your own eyes every time you looked in a mirror. Just like you he was hurt. The two people who were meant to be his forever loves were taken from him. And his sons turned out…less than ideal.

As centuries and centuries went by, things became easier. Lucifer wasn’t on your mind all the time by a certain point. Eventually the only times you’d remember him would be if you happen to overhear someone sharing the story of Lucifer—Heaven’s most famous fallen angel.

You didn’t think you’d stay single and moping forever would you? Of course not. As heaven got more populated, the more charming faces came about, each with personalities of all kind at every corner. Heaven’s never felt more lively.

Eventually you’d meet someone who found a way into your heart—intentionally or not. You didn’t know you were even capable of loving again.

You hated it.

You hated that every moment you spent with your partner, a part of you ached. You hated that every time you gazed into their eyes, you couldn’t get fully lost in them. You hated how an ‘I love you’ felt like a betrayal.

You hated Lucifer.

Even if you could fall in love again a part of you yearned for Lucifer. How could you not feel it? You were quite literally made for him. You were made to love him. You didn’t have a choice on who you could and couldn’t love when you were created. Your heart and very being was created to love Lucifer for every eternity.

“I wish I wasn’t created sometimes, your highness.”

Sera tries her best to offer you a safe space to vent. A place to let you be upset, for you to mourn, cry, be angry, and sometimes laugh;

“—and despite my wings still healing from the noodle incident, they still took me on a cloud flying date, your highness! They held onto me and never let me go!”

Seeing you fall in love again is a favourite of Sera’s.

With that comes with it’s heavy weight of guilt and anguish due to who you were made for but…you’re proving the odds to become your own person.

Even when you meet Lucifers daughter, you can’t help but feel satisfied with yourself for how strong you feel like you’ve moved on. You thought you’d never forget a single detail of Lucifer but when seeing him again through his daughter? Well, you hardly recognized her.

A part of you will always long for Lucifer—a part of you you’ve grown to hate but learn to ignore—but at least now as you say your vows to someone who actually means every single word of love and promise, you know you can love again. And no matter how hard the strings tug, your love will never waver for your new life partner.

The new partner reader meets can be anyone really. I wanted to write something to join in on the “Lucifer leaving reader for Lilith” stories that pop up every now and then, but give it a more happy ending for reader

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Where Do We Go From Here - Part 2

Summary: Two funerals. Two couples. A tragedy like no other. And one big secret.

A/N: Written for @fandom-free-bingo Here’s something different, I hope you enjoy it. Leave a comment, heart and reblog if you enjoyed the story.

Pairing: Tony Stark x Pepper Potts, F! Reader x Rhodey, Tony Stark x Reader (eventually)

Warning: 18+ angst, minors DNI, death, infidelity, smoking, mentions of self-harm and suicide. Hurt comfort.

Word count: 2721

Square filled: We deserve much better than we’ve had

Read Part 1 here

Fandom Free Bingo Masterlist

.

“I love you, Mr. Rhodes.”

“I love you more, Mrs. Rhodes.”

Content.

That was a primary feeling among others, contentment and giddiness. It was the happiest day of your life. You had married your love, James Rhodes. The ceremony was everything you had wished for and more, all of your friends and family watched happily as you exchanged vows and rings, grinning ear to ear as you were declared man and wife.

The day you met him, or rather evening at Tony Stark’s party, hadn’t been the most perfect. Hell, you were too wasted to even remember but Rhodey had dropped you home - more like carried you, tucked you in bed, and left some Advil along with a note like a gentleman, a tiny smiley face with his number that had you giggling like a teenager. And that was the beginning of your relationship.

And exactly six months later you were dancing to your favorite song with your new husband who had a firm arm around your back, the other holding your hand while you lay your cheek against his chest, loving every minute of the moment. The song ended and you broke apart, reluctantly letting him go, you pecked him on his lips a couple times before excusing yourself to use the ladies room.

The door seemed to be locked so you gave a soft knock, frowning when you heard muffled voices of what sounded like two people arguing. Twisting the knob, you entered anyway because you couldn’t wait and stumbled on Tony and Pepper. They had been squabbling.

“I’m really sorry guys, I–I couldn’t wait.” you hurried into a stall, gathering your wedding gown as best as you could. You heard Pepper storm off, the clicking of her heels wasn’t exactly silent, before Tony’s footsteps receded soon after. As you headed out, Tony had been leaning against the opposite wall, looking tired and mildly irritated.

“All okay?” you asked, genuinely concerned for two of your closest friends. He waved his hand in dismissal and shrugged, giving you a tight-lipped smile.

“Was that payback for me accidentally walking in on you in your bridal gown?” Tony jested, making you giggle as well as recalled the moment that happened just a few hours ago. Someone incorrectly told Tony about Rhodey’s room and he had barged in on you with two of your bridesmaids after you had just put on your wedding dress. He could’ve sworn his heart had stopped at that moment. You were stunning, so beautiful he actually struggled to form words. Clearing his throat awkwardly, Tony had left, not before giving you a once over, the image of you had been stuck in his mind for posterity. He couldn’t help but feel how lucky his best friend was.

“Oh God no! That was um, I just really had to go. I didn’t know you guys would be in there, arguing.” you blinked, shuffling from one foot to the other.

“While women’s bathrooms are at the top of my list for quarreling, I’m sorry you had to see that.”

Tony had a knack for making a joke out of serious situations, you knew that, you wondered if that was one of the reasons for him and Pepper arguing. Pepper, as far as you knew, was a no-nonsense person. As the two of you walked back towards the hall, you saw your new husband deep in conversation with her. Thinking nothing of it, you turned to Tony.

“I should probably–”

“Good luck with–”

You spoke at the same time, chuckling as Tony scratched the back of his neck, looking back up at you with a sincere smile on his face.

“Good luck with your marriage, Y/N. I hope you two are happy, and not just for the pictures.”

The sun had risen a few hours ago, heavy curtains blocked most of the light where you lay in the guest bed, working up the courage to face the day. Pepper’s funeral had been another painful reminder of your new reality. People kept offering their condolences to Tony who had his stoic facade on, occasionally looking out for you to check if you were still around. You had made it a point to be there for him, he wasn’t exactly volatile but the man needed you to ground him, probably more than you needed him. Or maybe it was the same. Who knew?

All you knew was if there was anybody in the world who could get what you were going through, it was Tony. And it was the same for him. It was the strangest and the most tragic connection you two had now.

You stood outside your house and stared at it, a house that held so many memories, happy memories with you and James. It was now just walls and bricks. Tony had been reluctant to leave you alone but after much assurance, he dropped you here and left for work.

You went on a cleaning spree once you stepped in, the kitchen had been dirty, your bed was unkempt. Blasting on some loud music that you knew James would’ve hated if he were alive, you cleaned the house. And you actually felt better once you were finished. It was exhausting but therapeutic. Your mood had been lifted enough for you to make a batch of mini blueberry pies to take back to Tony’s. The only thing that you dreaded was opening the closet, conflicted between never wanting to find out what he had been hiding in there and wanting to know everything and be done with it.

.

He was smiling. Not believing this was his reality now, everything was perfect, everything felt right. The way it was supposed to be. A comfortable peace settled in his chest as he watched you from afar, laughing with your friend, Pepper as you cooked. A glass of wine in one hand while you stirred a pot with the other, lips curved into the most gorgeous smiles that always set his heart racing, Tony could feel the love radiating off of him.

Catching his eye, you winked, causing him to chuckle before making your way over, your beautiful face forming a frown as you saw the cup of coffee in his hand.

“Coffee? Really, Tony?” you placed your hands on your hips, giving him a stern look.

“And then you wonder why you can’t sleep at night.”

“I mean, I plan on keeping you awake with me…” he trailed off, smirking as he pulled you close by your waist.

“Oh? I didn’t know we had those kinda plans tonight, Mr. Stark.” your fingers had found their way into his hair while he placed soft kisses along your neck, feeling your body mold perfectly against him.

“Now you’ve got your reminder, haven’t you Mrs. Sta–”

Tony jolted awake, the sound of the buzzer outside broke the little dream into a sad reality. Once again, he had fallen asleep on the couch. A habit that Pepper hated, one that had led to several arguments in the past. The small screen by the door revealed your face, Tony’s previous dream flooding his mind once more, making him shake his head as if it could be brushed off.

“Hey!” you gave Tony a small smile, stepping inside the house and immediately noticing the blanket on his couch.

“Were you asleep? Shit! I’m so sorry.”

He shrugged and waved it off, saying it wasn’t a big deal, narrowing his eyes as he noticed something on the blouse you wore.

“I cleaned the house, it felt great! Which I don’t think I’ve said in what feels like forever. I also made those mini blueberry pies you like. Here.” you handed them to him, watching his face light up genuinely after weeks. It made all of the efforts worth it.

“You ate some too, didn’t you?”

“Huh?”

Tony chuckled and reached out to pick up a tiny piece of fruit from your collar, his fingers linger over your skin. Looking down, you noticed the purple-red stain in a couple other spots too, mentally cursing yourself for being so sloppy.

“The stain is gonna set..” you murmured, trying to rub it off with your nails and failing.

“Um, you could wear one of my t-shirts, if you want. I’ll get one for you.” Tony suggested, promptly heading upstairs when you nodded in agreement.

Deciding on taking a shower while you were at it, you turned on the faucet and let the hot water cascade down your body, your weary muscles relaxing under it. Your mind went about this arrangement you had come to, you were living with your best friend’s husband for weeks now, sleeping in the guest bed, dealing with the deaths of your significant others who happened to be in an affair. It was all the makings of a drama movie.

Tony had been your support system, a shoulder to cry on and quite frankly the only person you could tolerate. He didn’t look at you with sympathy, nor did he offer unsolicited advice, he was just there, to hold your hand when you needed, to wipe your tears when you had bouts of anxiety and broke down, Tony was there and that was enough.

Slipping on his t-shirt felt oddly comforting, it smelt of something that was distinctly Tony Stark - a mix of coffee, cigarettes and cologne. Heading downstairs, you noticed him nursing a cup of coffee in his hands as he sat on the kitchen counter.

“Coffee? Seriously? It’s time for dinner, Tony Stark.” you shook your head, your voice breaking him out of his reverie.

His heart definitely skipped a beat. You sounded eerily similar to the dream he just had, two, you wore his clothes which made something bloom in his chest, something that was probably inappropriate. He found his restraint slipping by the minute.

Raising his hands in defeat, he placed the mug away and held out a bottle of wine for you.

“I had this one saved, I know it’s your favorite. What do you say?”

You could use a drink, you thought. Or ten. And the fact that he had your favorite bottle saved made you smile at his thoughtfulness. You had dinner in silence, a comfortable one though before Tony dug into one of the small pies you had made.

“I swear to God, I would’ve married you just for these.” he realized what he’d said the next second, quickly apologizing and cursing himself under his breath.

“I found Pepper’s clothes on his closet, Tony.”

You didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to cause him more pain but it slipped out.

“I burned them.” you added quickly, watching him give you a small nod, as if to say it was the right thing to do.

“Fuck them.” you whispered.

“Yeah, fuck them.” Tony agreed, clearing out your plates. You watched him clean them, noticing he wasn’t wearing his wedding band anymore.

“Are we bad people, Tony?” you asked a few breaths later, staring out the window with your wine glass. Tony sighed, making his way over next to you, shoulders almost brushing.

“You know we’re not, Y/N. We deserve much better than we’ve had. Cheating is a choice, a choice they both made and broke vows. It doesn’t reflect our character, it reflects theirs.”

He was right. Somehow he always said the right things.

“Did you read this in a bad self-help book somewhere?” you jested, angling your body towards him after hearing him chuckle.

“Oh yeah. I’ve got about nine hundred quotes just ready to roll out whenever.”

You felt yourself laugh, a version of yourself that was earlier buried so deep down, you thought she’d never come out. Tony placed a stray lock of hair behind your ear, his fingers caressing your cheek softly as he stepped closer.

You swore your heart was beating loudly enough for him to hear, your eyes glancing down at his lips. Now just inches away, you placed your hands on top of his and took in a deep breath.

“We can’t, Tony.”

“Why not?” he hadn’t moved away, he touched his forehead to yours and closed his eyes, his breath mingling with yours.

“We’re not those bad people, remember?” you breathed, not really wanting him to go away but you had to do the right thing. You didn’t want him or you to regret what would happen in the spur of the moment. He kissed you on your forehead, his soft lips still lingering against your skin as he spoke.

“We are people who repressed our feelings for far too long though. I know I am.” he murmured, leaving you confused.

What did he mean? Repressed feelings?

Opening your eyes, you found his brown orbs imploring yours, saying everything that was left unsaid between you over the years. Cupping his face, he leaned into your touch instinctively, still not moving from his place.

“I’ve had feelings for you way before any of this happened, Y/N. I thought you knew.” he whispered.

You did. You just never found the courage to confront him about it or even act on your own. You were married to his best friend, for God’s sake. And now…

“Would you regret this if I told you how much I’ve wanted you, Y/N?”

Tony had been holding himself back for a long time, he couldn’t any more. He would stop if you told him to, no questions asked, but something inside him said you wanted him as much as he wanted you.

“Answer me, Y/N. Would you regret it?”

Tears filled in your eyes and spilled over, down your cheeks where they met Tony’s gentle fingers that wiped them off. You were waiting for the voice inside your head to tell you this would be a mistake. That voice never spoke up.

“No.”

That simple word was a sentence in itself. It was all Tony needed to hear before closing the distance. He kissed you softly at first, melding his lips against yours as he pulled you against his chest. Kissing him was like coming home after a long, tiring day. It was new and yet familiar, like you were doing something right for once. He coaxed your mouth open to deepen the kiss, a mix of blueberries and wine that felt so right to him too.

Everything else felt like a beautiful blur to you. He carried you up the stairs, never breaking the kiss, laid you on the mattress, peeling his t-shirt off your body and admired your flushed skin. Nudging you with his nose, your eyes fluttered open to reflect zero traces of regret, giving him a signal to go ahead. You could think about the million other things running through your mind later, right now all that mattered was you and Tony.

His clothed shaft made its presence known as his hips drove forward, his head now dipped low between your breasts as he caressed your body. A needy moan left your lips as he peeled your shorts off, fingers teasing your moist entrance.

You undressed him quickly, wanting and needing him to make you feel good. Caging you with his arms on either side of your head, Tony pushed inside your heat, welcoming the warmth that enveloped his cock so well. His name fell from your lips in a soft sigh, urging him closer as you wrapped your legs around him.

Everything fell into oblivion as Tony fucked you, drove you to a point of ecstacy and held you as you fell apart. Kissed you like there was no tomorrow and yet all of his kisses felt like promises, promises of a better tomorrow. A future that would be better than your past, and your present.

[zmediaoutlet]

Survey results time.

At time of downloading the data we got just over 300 responses, which is not bad for a survey that was long and complicated to take! I'm sure my shamelessness helped. Being a survey for a specific crowd, we also didn't get anyone (as far as I could tell) taking the survey in bad faith, which is a legit surprise. Special shout-out to the several people who, when asked to write literally anything to say they understood what was going on, wrote "literally anything"; additional shout-out to the person who wrote "penus and hole" (sic). You get it, anonymous person.

I'm going to share the top results for the questions here, but I'll also include the raw data as a sheet at the end in case anyone wants to actually go through it with a fine-tooth comb. This is not a survey where cute pie charts or graphs would be useful or readable, so get ready for some sweet-ass numbers:

Story Genre

Unsurprisingly, our leaderboard for most favorite story genre in the 'Anytime!' category is as follows:

Hurt/comfort (153 votes)

Angst (142 votes)

PWP (139 votes)

We just like the guys to get the shit beaten out of them, angstily, and then they can feel better by jerking off about it. The ideal evening.

The big loser in genre, with 34 buds flat out saying "not for me", was Dark!fic. That said, Dark!fic also got 112 votes (third highest) for "has to be JUST right," so we can probably take from there that while as a group we don't hate dark content, we have pretty strict definitions for a) what counts as dark, and b) what kind of dark we're willing to take.

Gencest/gen was arguably the most 'eh, idk?' of the genres, with respectable showings in every category from Anytime to No; most people don't hate it, but people aren't really seeking it out either. It's definitely There.

Story Setting

The winner of most 'Anytime!' votes for story setting is close to my heart; the podium is:

Bunker era (142 votes)

Canon-close, codas, etc (129 votes)

Pre-series/weechesters (126 votes)

It feels good to know that canon is on our side. This may help explain why various alternate universe settings didn't do so hot with the respondents -- the least fave according to this survey is an age!swap AU, followed by a raised apart!AU. Writers who are making Sam the big brother who lives in Cleveland while baby Dean lives in Seattle, you keep living your truth, but readers are rearing back.

That being said, while Canon Divergence isn't an overall winner, it has a full 149 votes in the 'Dig it' category; so, while we may generally prefer canon, we're willing to be led on a garden path away from it. We just want canon to be within shouting distance, at least.

Canonical Character Variants

Here's where the survey gets more complex. I've always been interested in how and why people are fandoming about things, and simple 'yes/no' surveys rarely dig into that meat. The point of the superego/ego/id separation is to really interrogate -- hey, do you like to read about (for example) soulless!Sam because you find it interesting on a high-minded level, or because your heart-strings are getting tugged even if you think it's kinda dumb, or just because it makes you so hornt-up you can't think straight? All are valid, and all are possible simultaneously, but it's interesting to prod at to see how the interest is working. You might also just be like, eh, it's fine, or GOD, STOP, and that's fine too. So, with all that said:

Superego winners:

demon powers!Sam (202 votes)

soulless!Sam (177 votes)

blood addict!Sam (160 votes)

Y'all like to really brain about how Sam is fucked up. I get it.

Ego winners:

Trials of Hell!Sam (186 votes)

blood addict!Sam (180 votes)

demon powers!Sam (161 votes)

Still all Sam, and no surprise that his saintly pale sleeplessness is winning the heartstrings battle.

Id winners:

demon!Dean (205 votes)

demon powers!Sam (175 votes)

blood addict!Sam (165 votes)

Again, no surprise: fandom girlies (gn) love their bad boys, lol. Soulless snuck in at #4 here with 163, presumably because working out still wearing a belt was juuuust dorky enough to kick him off the podium; #5 was Smith & Wesson at 162, probably because if they'd been left in that AU for ten more minutes they would have been fucking over the top of Dean Smith's desk. Glad we're all on the same page, there.

The nopes here were an interesting mix. In the full-on No Thank You category we had Michael!Dean and Gadreel!Sam (with 52 and 53 votes respectively) -- it would be interesting to know if that was due to dread of the storyline specifically, or just how No Bad Wrong it felt to have it happening. These two also led the 'meh' category, although they were joined on the podium of bad by Endverse!Dean (128 Meh votes), which frankly shocked me. Y'all aren't into his thigh holster? C'mon now. Sure, he murders his friends without compunction, but -- thigh holster!

Story Tropes

These ones were fascinatingly all over the place, which is exactly why I wanted to do this. Going to just run down the S/E/I podiums real quick, then 'Hard sell', then No --

Superego winners:

Outsider!POV (211)

Someone Finds Out (191)

Mental health issues (190)

Ego winners:

Mutual pining (252)

First time (242) AND Sick/injured (242)

First time in a long time (235)

Id winners:

Jealousy/possessiveness (224)

First time (218)

First time in a long time (180)

Now, part of what's interesting about these is how they fall off in other categories. Outsider POV wins handily at Superego with 211, but then drops all the way down to 92 votes at Id -- which isn't nothing, but clearly it's preferred to have a heckin' think about how other people view the incest relationship, rather than thinking it's just So Hot that people might. Similarly, while people do think it's so so hot for one brother or the other (or both!) to be possessive at 224 votes, when it comes to the superego that drops right down to 134 votes, presumably as the brain wakes up and goes RED FLAG!

Entering the land of no thank you, we shall have two anti-podiums:

Real hard sell:

Infidelity (127)

magic/powers!Dean (125)

Unrequited/no relationship upgrade (110) AND "Carver Edlund" fandom

This is a much more mixed bag. Infidelity and Unrequited are no surprise here, because it Feels Bad, Man; magic!Dean also not really a surprise, given that most of our respondents prefer being closer to canon, and Dean is very much our mundane buddy in the show as presented. (A delightful buddy, but a distinctly nonmagical one.) Carver Edlund fandom makes me laugh mostly because it's such a bananas thing to exist in the show. Sam and Dean reading big bang fics about each other? Collectively we just... don't know what to do with that. Weird.

Squick/No/Maybe one exception:

Permanent character death (140)

Infidelity (108)

Eating disorders (102)

Again, no surprise in the anti-winners of 1 or 2 here, but number 3 surprised me, personally. ED fic used to be a pretty big wedge of common tropes that people would seek out. Perhaps it's gotten less popular over the years? Or perhaps just that the people who like it REALLY like it and so chat about it out loud, while those who don't quietly bury it in sand, lo as a cat does with their leavings.

Most extreme delta in 'general interest' (whether that be S,E, or I) to 'ehh' (whether that be Hard Sell or Squick) is first time. Y'all loooove your first time.

Sexy Tropes, Vol. 1

This is where I really wanted to know if people could pull apart their interests between brain and heart and guts. Hopefully people were honest, as requested. Some of them we know are slight liar answers, because the hits on AO3 tell a story that can't be refuted -- nevertheless, here's what people were willing to admit to.

Bulletproof kink/will read any version:

Bedsharing (158)

Incest kink (139)

Size kink (133)

your friendly neighborhood survey creator is jumping up and down going 'wooo' that size kink made the podium. also I hope everyone understood that incest kink meant, like, indulging in the incest of it all via 'oh you're so totes my brother and i want to suck your dingle for that reason specifically', but I realize that could've been clearer.

Easy sell/you don't have to work hard for me to enjoy:

shameless bottom!Dean stuff (151)

switching (147)

voyeurism (138)

the first one here genuinely surprises me considering what I see getting written most often; is this a case of just not being in the right venn diagrams, or the 'easy sell' just not matching up with what people are being sold? Curiouser and curiouser.

Medium sell/not my fave, but I can see how it appeals:

bad/awkward sex (120)

phone sex (114)

in [drug/alcohol] veritas (110)

edging into awkward town in a few ways here: we don't love these, but we can see how it'd be fun. or not fun, in the case of bad sex.

Hard sell/this is unbelievable or uninteresting so you have to work hard to get me to enjoy it:

always-another-gender!AU (84)

multiple Sams or Deans (73)

genderswap (magic) (72)

so, in general, we prefer to keep the penises around and intact, but just one Sam penis and one Dean penis, please. Here, I'm interested that the volume is much lower than in the top category: maxing out at 84 hard sells compared to 158 bulletproof options means that we're willing to give more of these tropes a chance, even if they're not our faves. How accepting we are!

Squick/no/maybe one exception:

always-another-gender!AU (83)

A/B/O elements (65)

multiple Sams or Deans (51)

strong overlap with the hard sell; and, keeping in mind that people were able to choose multiple options, it's possible that some of those were identical votes. Again, please keep the penises straightforward and only two at a time. A/B/O is interesting here, especially given what we know of how well it does on AO3; while it's a big squick for a lot of people, it also has decently high votes in bulletproof/easy, averaging 82 votes. Mixed bag!

Sexy Tropes Vol. 2, Electric Boogaloo

Bulletproof kink/will read any version:

Possessive/claiming sex (129)

Marking (hickeys/bruising) (116)

Hair pulling (103)

Let's glance back up at the Id winners in the story tropes above, hmm quietly to ourselves, and move on.

Easy sell/you don't have to work hard for me to enjoy:

Marking (hickeys/bruising) (135)

Hair pulling (130)

Possessive/claiming sex (121)

Well, that's boring. So let's expand so as not to be repetitive:

4. Dub-con (116) 5. Dom/sub (113) AND Underage (113) 6. Knifeplay (107)

There we go. Pretty easy to put all of those into one fic, too.

Medium sell/not my fave, but I can see how it appeals:

Blindfolds (128)

Painplay (116)

Shibari/rope play (112)

We're starting to lose interest as accessories come into play. Interesting to compare D/s and its relative success against painplay -- so, tell him what to do, but don't hit him while you're doing it. Fair enough.

Hard sell/this is unbelievable or uninteresting so you have to work hard to get me to enjoy it:

Fucking machines (94)

Vore (80)

Mommy!kink (77)

Entertaining mix here, haha. General feasibility may be rearing its head here. (Also, for my own entertainment: daddy!kink got 67 Hard Sell votes. People generally prefer to keep it as horizontal incest, not vertical incest.)

Squick/no/maybe one exception:

Feederism (164)

Vore (161)

Extreme underage (157)

No surprises here, although some fans of the nibbly variety of wincest may be disappointed by vore's poor placement. Note also that 'extreme' is in the eye of the beholder; we'll leave aside value judgments, as we have for the whole survey, and note that people are not indulging in a version of underage they find to be personally past the line, or at least are not admitting to that.

At a glance, the closest matchup between bulletproof for some and a squick to others is bloodplay, with just 1 vote separating the two categories: 44 bulletproof, 43 squick. Next time someone tries to tell you that 'everyone' likes or doesn't like something, please take it with an entire shaker full of salt.

Dynamic & Position Preferences

I tried to encourage people not to think too hard about this one and just answer on instinct. Who knows if that worked. But here are some overview takes:

Toppy/dominant: Sam takes the lead here, with 69% of respondents being in the 'Love it!' category. Nice. (217 votes)

Dom Dean earned a respectable 52% of 'Love it!' votes (163).

However, I was also interested to check out the inverse --

subby!Sam: 44 'Very no thank' votes (13%) subby!Dean: 27 'Very no thank' votes (8%)

It's interesting to leap way back up and compare that against 'shameless bottom!Dean stuff' doing so well in the rated E categories. Makes you ponder.

Actual sex position: Frequently switching takes the win here, with 61% of the vote (194 votes). Sam always topping edges out if people must choose, with 144 votes; Dean always topping is our lowest choice, with 112.

Service!topping: this is a fairly niche fic type, but it does still exist -- I guess in a world of bottoms someone's got to actually get up and do something, and it is hilariously an almost perfectly even split:

service!top Sam: 50.17% (151 votes) service!top Dean: 51.50% (155 votes)

A healthy percentage of people said they didn't care about these questions either way, and more power to them. However, they were wildly outvoted by those who did.

Multishipping Time

Our final categories are when other people get their grubby hands on Sam or Dean, either canonically(ish) or in our fandom activities.

Canonical relationships for Sam

Jess wins, quelle surprise. :) 161 people Dug It and who can blame them.

Amelia LOSES, shocking no one: 112 people said Fuck That.

Eileen was definitely a mixed bag; her results, in order, were: Meh: 92; Fuck that: 76; Worse than meh: 66; Dug it: 44.

Canonical(ish) relationships for Dean

Note here: it was too unbalanced if we only went with people Dean officially dated. However, the show leaned hard into a few unrequited male relationships for him, which we included here, and no one sent me hate about it so I guess that was fine.

Benny wins the Love It! category with 129 votes, barely edging out Cassie at 122. Benny is best boy, so that fits.

Cas loses with a full 99 Fuck That votes, which is probably what we'd expect from a wincest survey. That said, he also got 93 Dug It votes, so it's a pretty balanced showing.

Poor Lisa sits firmly at Meh with 148 votes. It's not that we hate you, Lisa; we just don't really know what to do with you. Which is pretty much how the relationship went in the show.

Shipping Sam like FedEx

We returned to the S/E/I model for shipping as we did for tropes, because it means something very different to go 'oh sure, I can see how that would be interesting' vs saying 'I want them to fuck rawnasty and I don't care why they're doing it.' Apologies if I left out your favorite side-ship but, shit, there's only so much time in the day.

So, we return to the podiums:

Superego:

Ruby (132)

Rowena (121)

Cas (102)

Ego:

Rowena (121)

Cas (106)

Ruby (90)

Id:

Ruby (125)

John (121)

Rowena (118)

So that was going on sedately until Dad came in like a hammer. Fascinating. On the other hand:

No:

Lisa (234)

Donna (222)

Claire (219)

Interesting to me that these three are ladies that Sam theoretically could have got up in but people are not into it, regardless. This is slightly different to Dean's 'no' category -- spoilers for three inches of screen space!

Dean, Shipped by UPS

Superego:

John (129)

Benny (115)

Lisa (99)

Ego:

Benny (134)

John (116)

Lisa (102)

Id:

John (147)

Benny (128)

Crowley (114)

Well. That tells a slightly different story, ahem. Enjoy the various tropes that will be applied, Dean! And then we get:

No:

Amelia (245)

Kevin (223)

Gabriel (217)

Comparing to the Sam 'no' above -- these three are slightly more 'traditional' Sam ships, though the wincest shippers are nevertheless not into them for Sam, either. Dean literally never spoke to or saw Amelia on screen, so it'd be a determined shipper who'd make that happen. Not undoable, though!

Conclusion

Syke: there isn't one to be made. This really shows how diverse the taste is in the wincest community, or at least in the wincest community that a) happened to see this survey over the last five days and b) bothered to take it. This particular group leans slightly toward e.g. toppy Sam, or slightly toward switching, but when you look at raw numbers what you see is that at least one person LOVES every single one of these things, and at least one person fucking HATES every single one of these things, and so -- so what? Write what you want. If you see a niche of something that you love where you feel like not enough people are writing or reading, try to fill it. If you're worried "no one" will like it, well -- you're wrong. Someone will. It just needs to get seen by the right people.

That's where fandom comes in, to spread the love even if something isn't bulletproof for us -- reblogging a post to say, 'hey, my mutual made this thing, look at it!' What a joy it'd be if someone saw it and loved it to absolute shattering bits, and then found their little bulletproof community, and happiness was made. What's the point, if we're not making each other happy.

Thanks for participating if you did, and reading all this if you did. Here's a link to a google sheet (read only) with all the tables of raw data if you're interested. I'll post some of the more entertaining fill-in answers later.

s&d shipping survey results: November 1, 2023 - Google Sheets

[captainsophiestark]

Happy Ending

Luke Castellan x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2023!

Fandom: Percy Jackson

Day 22 Prompt: "Who takes care of you?"

Summary: What if Luke had come by to see Y/N, his pre-betrayal best friend and SO, instead of Annabeth between books 3 and 4?

Word Count: 4,189

Category: Angst, Fluff

A/N: I really loved the vibes of this post by @m4gp13 so this is very loosely inspired by it, even though the main body of the story doesn't have much to do with it lol

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I sighed, staring at the piles of boxes on the floor of my dorm room. The spring semester of my second year of college was just coming to a close, and I still had a lot to do to be ready for everything after it finished. I was moving into my own apartment for the summer, and needed to move from the dorm room to my new apartment. As soon as that was over, I'd planned a visit to Camp Half-Blood, the training camp for heroes I kept going back to, even though I was technically an adult.

I needed to pack everything in my dorm, move it to my apartment, and then be able to unpack everything I'd need for a few weeks visiting camp. This packing job would need to be strategically worthy of Athena.

I'd just barely managed to psych myself up to get started when a knock came at my door. I huffed a sigh, but I really didn't mind the distraction all that much.

"Coming!" I called. I glanced out the peep hole, then froze solid when I saw Luke Castellan staring back at me.

My heart stopped dead in my chest. I looked again and saw he had no monsters with him, at least not visibly, but I couldn't understand why he would come here without them.

Luke had been one of my closest friends in the world since we met as kids, on the run together from our mutually shitty families. We'd met first, then found Thalia and Annabeth after. Luke and I were the same age, and we'd been thick as thieves since day one, Hermes pun intended. As we'd gotten older, a small crush I'd had on Luke had grown massive, and luckily for me he'd returned my feelings. We'd been happily dating and in love ever since, until two summers ago, when he'd betrayed me and every single one of our friends and joined Kronos.

I'd barely talked to him since. We only had contact once and a while, and every time, it went the same way. I was hurt, he was apologetic but not willing to change any of his decisions. Me and the rest of Camp fought him and his monsters, and I tried not to fall apart at the loss of the love of my life.

The distraction provided by college had been a serious, serious relief.

But now, Luke was here. In the middle of space where I very intentionally avoided thinking about him, on my doorstep for whatever reason. And I had no idea what to do.

"Y/N? I know you're in there. I'm here under a flag of truce. I just want to talk."

Just like that, any desire to duck and hide crumbled. The rational part of my brain screamed at me that he could be lying, that this might just be a trap, but I ignored it. After everything we'd been through, if Luke said he wanted to talk, I wanted to hear him out.

I opened the door, and Luke's shoulders sagged with relief when he saw me. I wanted to dart forward and wrap him in a hug, something I hadn't been able to do in two years, but I held myself back. Luke shifted a little from foot to foot, looking incredibly awkward, so after a second's hesitation I stepped to the side.

"Would you like to come in?"

He gave me a suspicious look, like he thought it was a trap or a trick or something. My heart shattered in my chest. How had things gone this wrong, that we stood on opposite sides of the door as basically strangers?

"My house is a mess, because I'm in the middle of packing up to move, but... if you want to talk, Luke, I feel like the hallway isn't gonna be the best place to do it."

He gave me a curt nod, not quite meeting my eyes as he walked past me into my apartment. I glanced down the hallway, taking one last look to make sure we didn't have any lingering monsters, but things were deserted. I sighed and went back into my apartment, closing the door behind me.

I found Luke hovering in the space between the kitchen and the living room, surveying things with a strange look on his face. I moved toward him carefully, not getting too close in case I spooked him.

"Do you want some tea or something? I haven't packed my electric kettle yet-"

"I think tea might take longer than the five minutes I promised."

I turned to look at Luke, raising one eyebrow in challenge, a little bit of our old rapport back. He shifted his weight around and glanced towards the door, then met my eyes again.

"Luke... is some giant monster going to burst through my door in five minutes? Or an army of small monsters, or anything under that general monster-army umbrella?"

"What? No, no, there's... no. I'm here under a flag of truce. There's nothing coming to hurt you, and when I leave... I'll leave."

"Okay then," I said, deciding not to comment on just how shaken and pale Luke looked, at least not right now. "Then I'm giving you a pass on the five minutes. And electric kettles take like two seconds anyway, seriously. They're magical."

Luke huffed, shaking his head as an incredulous smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. My heart squeezed, but I made myself move towards the kitchen and act like things were normal.

"Take a seat, Luke. Or come pick your tea."

Luke took the second option, and my heart doubled its speed when I felt him hovering behind me, closer than we'd been in a long time if you didn't count combat. He leaned over my shoulder to point to the bag of black tea on my counter, and I nodded as I poured the hot water into our cups. I dropped two teabags in each of our drinks, then turned to Luke with a smile.

He stood a little more than a foot from me, and he took the cup from my hands carefully, like he didn't want this bubble of peace and normalcy to burst either. I stared into his beautiful, bright blue eyes, a smile growing on my face again despite myself. I'd missed this. A lot.

The moment lasted another few seconds, and then Luke cleared his throat and looked away. He took a tentative sip of his tea, then looked at me again, his face deadly serious.

"I don't know how to say this. I... I learned some things recently, about some plans I wasn't aware of before."

He paused and took another sip of his tea, and his hand shook a little as he brought the mug away from his lips. Shock coursed through my body as I realized Luke was scared.

"Kronos, he- he's going to use me. He's going to use me to take over the world. This summer... he's going to use me like a stepping stone, until he gets so much power he's unstoppable."

"Luke... what are you saying?"

His eyes had wandered to stare holes in the wall of my kitchen while he'd talked, but now they snapped back to me, wide and full of urgency.

"I'm saying I want to run away. I want us to run away, like the old days. Before... before he gets the chance to carry out his plan."

I stared at Luke for a few minutes, then shook my head, scoffing and pushing past him into the living room of my house. I paced a little, trying to make sense of what he'd just told me. What he'd just asked of me.

"Luke... I don't know what to say!" I finally admitted, completely honest as I turned back to him. He watched me, his expression guarded. "I don't... I don't think I can just run away. Not from the life I've managed to build, not from our friends still here and risking their lives!"

"So that's it, then?" he asked, taking a few steps forward, his tone angry. "Your answer's no?"

I huffed a laugh, staring at anything in the room except for Luke and trying to think. My brain was working a million miles an hour, but I still needed a little bit of time to think things through. But I wasn't sure I had time.

"Okay, Luke, can we sit down for a minute? Actually talk about this?" I said, taking slow steps towards him. I set my mug down on the nearest table, then reached out to gently rest my hands on his. A storm of emotions raged behind his eyes, but he didn't stop me or pull away. "This is a lot to take in all at once. Can we work through this together?"

His jaw worked like he was holding back some retort, but he let me pull him along towards the couch. Slowly, together, we sank down onto the cushions. I only pulled one hand back, and made sure our knees rested against each other, hoping it would do something to help keep Luke grounded.

"I don't want to run," I said simply, meeting his eyes. He opened his mouth, looking ready with an outburst again, but I continued before he could. "But Luke, think about it. Where are we gonna go that he doesn't find you, especially if he wants to? Monsters can sniff us out. We'd never, ever be able to live another day without looking over our shoulders."

Luke's shoulders sagged, and he shook his head miserably as he stared at the half-full mug in his hand.

"Then there's no hope."

"That's not what I said. And it's also not true." Luke scoffed, shooting me a look out of the corner of his eye. I looked right back. "If you don't want to follow through on what Kronos is asking of you, why not just come back with me? To Camp, to my somewhat normal life. I have an apartment with space for two. You could even enroll with me next semester, if you wanted to."

Luke shook his head. He pursed his lips as he raised his head to meet my eyes again.

"And let the Olympians continue exploiting us? Let them keep destroying people and lives because we don't matter to them?"

I huffed a sigh. "Look, I'm not their biggest fan either, but right now it seems like it's 'let Kronos kill you' or 'stop fighting the Olympians'."

Luke shook his head again, more energized this time, more angry. He stared at the wall ahead of us, the same hurt and bitterness I'd seen from him over the years burning in his eyes.

"It's just not right. There should be something we can do. Something that isn't Kronos, but isn't letting the Olympians win."

And just like that, a lightbulb went off in my head.

"Luke... what if there was a way we could do that?"

****************

That night, Luke and I stayed up until almost two in the morning brainstorming and working out the details of my plan. When we finally decided to get some sleep, he stayed with me, and curling up in the same tiny twin bed, falling asleep to the sound of his heartbeat, had me more at peace and ease than I had been in a long, long time.

The next morning, we finalized a few things over breakfast. Then, there was nothing left to do but put our plan into action.

Luke stayed in the apartment, tasked with keeping his head down and finishing packing for me, since I had other places I had to be. Namely, Camp Half-Blood. A little earlier than I'd talked about with Chiron, and hopefully, before the place was crawling with campers for the summer.

Thankfully, it didn't take me too long to get to Camp. I arrived a little after lunch and found the place expectedly deserted. From the top of the hill, I could see some of the year-rounders moving around the lake. I tried to keep them from noticing me as I headed straight for the Big House.

I paused just outside the front door to steel my nerves one last time, then marched inside. I found Chiron and Mr. D sitting together, apparently deep in conference. They both looked up when they noticed me, matching looks of surprise on their faces (although Chiron's had a noticeably happier edge to it).

"Y/N! We weren't expecting you for another few weeks-"

"I'm not staying for long. Something just came up that I needed to talk to you about right away. To both of you, actually, especially Mr. D."

He raised a bored eyebrow in my direction but otherwise didn't move. Chiron motioned to a chair at the table.

"By all means, please."

"That's alright, I think I'll stand," I said. I took a deep breath, squaring my shoulders and straightening my spine. I would not back down, wouldn't leave until I'd succeeded. Luke and I's future depended on it.

I took a moment to make very intentional, determined eye contact with Mr. D. His other eyebrow raised.

"I'm here to bargain for a pardon for Luke Castellan."

Silence. Both Chiron and Mr. D just stared at me for a few long moments, then turned to look at each other. Chiron looked concerned, but Mr. D burst out laughing.

"He's a traitor and an enemy of Olympus! This has all been very boring and ridiculous, and a waste of our time. Get out."

Mr. D's last word had a firey threat behind it, but I didn't flinch.

"You and the rest of the Olympians are perfectly aware what a threat Kronos presents. Everybody's getting scared, and they should be. He's got a plan for returning to his Titan form, the one he had before he was defeated the first time, before Zeus cut him apart and cast him into Tartarus. And it's a plan that he can definitely make succeed.

"Luke knows all about this plan. Obviously. And he's willing to defect and tell you all about it, so we can stop it before it happens. But you have to give him a complete pardon, sworn on the River Styx by Zeus."

Mr. D snorted again, this time raising from his chair and taking a few threatening steps towards me. I still didn't back down.

"Y/N, listen," Chiron interrupted, shuffling forward a little bit to stand partially in between me and Mr. D. "If you have information that could save Olympus and the camp-"

"Oh, I have some. Just like Chris Rodriguez had some. But Luke has all of it. And you're not getting any of it without giving him a pardon first."

"Or we could force it out of you before finding your little boyfriend and doing the same to him," said Mr. D, his tone light but his eyes blazing. Chiron started to step in again, but I spoke up before he got the chance.

"You haven't been able to find him this long, you won't be able to find him now. And anybody who knows anything about interrogations knows that torture just plain and simple doesn't work for getting information." Mr. D grunted, but we both knew I had him there. "Besides, if Luke gets his pardon, that means more than just getting all the information from Kronos' former right hand man. It also means that Kronos loses said right hand man, who's been organizing and leading a lot of the work so far."

Chiron and Mr. D shared a look, and I tried not to let it show just how much my heart was racing. For the first time since I'd walked in here, I actually felt a glimmer of hope that my plan might succeed. Chiron turned back to me, the worried look still on his face.

"Y/N... what makes you so confident that Luke wants to defect?"

"He sought me out," I answered simply, trying to dance around his location at least a bit. "He's realizing quickly just how bad Kronos would and could be, and he's scared. Terrified. He wants a way out, so when he found me, he asked me to run away with him. I suggested trying this plan first, mostly so I don't have to leave behind everyone else I love. But also because, this way, you might stand a chance against Kronos that you wouldn't have if we'd left without offering information."

The conversation continued for almost another hour, centered mostly around Mr. D making threats and, when I didn't back down, reminding me that I was trying to demand something of Zeus. He made plenty of good points, but I'd thought through all the ways this plan could go terribly, painfully wrong with Luke before I'd come here. I wasn't going to give in, for anything.

Finally, after restating my points and my argument a few times, Mr. D agreed to bring my request to Mount Olympus. I waited anxiously in the Big House with Chiron, whose brow remained deeply creased the entire time. I didn't engage, intentionally avoiding the conversation he looked like he wanted to have, but I saw him watching me out of the corner of my eye.

I started to get worried as the evening came, but finally, Mr. D reappeared. The first time he'd delivered his news, I honestly hadn't believed him. I asked him to repeat himself, which he rolled his eyes over, but the words were the same. Somehow, by some miracle, I'd managed to succeed.

Zeus was willing to give Luke his pardon in exchange for information and defecting.

I wasn't a complete idiot, so made sure the terms were clear when Mr. D brought me to Olympus to witness the oath. The words covered any retaliation, punishment, or harm that might come to Luke, and completely prevented it. Zeus spoke the words and the sky rumbled with lightning. I tried not to shake in relief or from the adrenaline dump as I bowed and promised he wouldn't regret his decision. Hermes shot me a grateful look on my way out, and I returned his nod. He'd been awful to Luke, but we were aligned in not wanting to see him dead, and I got the feeling Hermes had been helpful in pleading my case.

When we returned to the Big House, I headed for the door as quickly as possible, promising to bring Luke back with me in a week when I'd been planning to return anyway. I still had to move out and then move in to a new place again, and Luke had assured me that week of time wouldn't cost the war.

I raced back home, breaking almost every traffic law in the process, but I didn't care at all. I called out to Luke from the hallway, so he wouldn't be scared when I flung the door open, then rushed to wrap him in a giant hug. We sank to the floor together, crying in relief, and stayed like that for a long, long time.

The next week felt like a dream. Luke and I finished packing up my old apartment, then moved together into the new one, which we'd started calling 'ours'. We had to duck monsters a few times, and Luke was still in significant danger, but this time we were on the same side. As we settled into our new place on the last night before we were supposed to head back to camp, I quite literally couldn't have been happier.

It was a little strange returning to camp with Luke, but I quickly got over my own concerns when I saw how tense he was. I held his hand the whole way in, and thankfully, we'd still managed to get here before most of the summer campers. Luke and I sat shoulder to shoulder in the Big House while he told Mr. D and Chiron everything about Kronos and his operation. It took hours, and I could tell Luke struggled to get a lot of it out. But he did.

It had taken long enough that we decided to stay the night, even though I could see Luke clearly didn't want to. We stayed in the Big House, and the next morning, we finished the last of the intel-sharing before heading back home.

Chiron stopped Luke on the way out the door with a hand on his shoulder and said he was so happy to have Luke back. Luke just nodded, but I squeezed his hands as I noticed a single tear making its way down his cheek as we left.

"You know..." I said as we climbed in the car. I was driving, and Luke stared determinedly out the window. "Chiron's probably not the only one who'd be happy to have you back. There might be some apology tour type-stuff, but for the most part... I think you'd get a warm welcome home."

Luke just gave a noncommittal grunt, and I let it go. That was a bridge we could cross later.

For now, we still had one final part of our plan to put into action.

The reason Luke had joined Kronos in the first place was because he'd been neglected by his Olympic parent, especially since his mortal parent had been in such a bad place. He'd discovered the hard way that Kronos was no better alternative, but the fact remained that the gods used their mortal children at best, and at worst completely ignored them for their entire lives.

We needed to find a third option, some middle ground way to make things better. So, we decided to be the change we wanted to see.

As legal adults with a newly moved-in apartment that had a decent amount of space, we had the power to make our home a space for demigods who had nowhere else to go. If their immortal parents were neglecting them and things weren't good with their mortal parent either, they could come to us. For a little while, or to stay for good. We made our own little sanctuary, then shared it with all the kids like us who'd needed it.

Over time, the operation expanded, and we moved into a bigger apartment with more space. Thanks in part to Luke and I, Camp Half-Blood won the war, and we were able to do even more once Kronos stopped being a threat. What had started as not much more than a dream of doing good had turned into a loud, busy, happy house with people constantly coming and going.

Which is how we'd ended up in an alleyway talking to a scared teenager, after helping defeat a monster who'd been bearing down on him.

"Who takes care of you?" asked Luke, a sympathetic and understanding frown on his face as we stood a little ways from the kid. We didn't want to make him uncomfortable, but we'd gotten good at spotting the signs of a young Half-Blood in distress and helping them.

"I take care of myself," the kid spit. I tried not to glance at Luke.

"We used to do that, too," I said, moving a little closer to Luke. "We both ran away from home, survived on the streets, although I guess we really took care of each other."

"Now, we take care of people like you," Luke continued, right where I'd left off. "Do you know what you are?"

The kid hesitated, then half shook his head. He at least had some idea, then.

"You're a Half-Blood," I said. "Half mortal, half immortal Olympian god."

"...What?"

"Look, I know it's a lot to process," said Luke. "But the longer the three of us sit in this alley, the more likely it is another monster's gonna come and pick a fight."

We managed to get the kid up and moving, heading back for our apartment. On the way, we explained more about the Olympians, and told him about Camp Half-Blood.

"It's a good place to get training, and to meet other Half-Bloods like you," I said. "A place for heroes."

"It's only one option, though," Luke added. The kid nodded, looking a little overwhelmed but excited as we stopped outside our apartment door.

"And... what's the other option?"

Luke and I shared a smile, then he pushed open the door to our apartment.

Inside, we were immediately greeted with a wave of noise and excitement. We'd left Ethan Nakamura, one of the Half-Bloods Luke had met away from camp, in charge, and he'd been leading the rest of our group in basic combat lessons.

"What... what is this place?"

"A place for normal kids who need somebody to take care of them," Luke answered. "You'll still get training, since monsters will always be trying to kill you."

"But we won't ever ask anything of you, other than to do your own damn dishes," I said. "No dangerous quests, no tribute to the gods. Just our own little makeshift family going through life together."

Luke put his arm around me, pulling me into his side and kissing my temple as Ethan noticed our newcomer and waved him over to join in the fun. Luke and I stayed where we were, watching the bubble of happiness we'd made together with smiles on our faces. We'd gone through hell and back to get here, but as far as I was concerned, every moment of pain had been worth it for Luke and I's happy ending.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury

Percy Jackson Taglist: @valkyriepirate

[thelucyverse]

Keep fandoms alive, comment on more fanfics!

The do‘s and don’ts of fic reviews

Because a friend told me she never knows what to write and then never comments, but wants to learn how to do better, I thought I’d compile a list, and maybe it will help someone else as well!

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Some more kinds of comments on another post

[scribble-bunnie]

Let You Go | Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader

Fandom: Doctor Who

Pairing: Tenth Doctor x Reader (Gender Neutral, I think, I didn't specify anything)

Word Count: 2.1k

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending that's also kinda Open?

Summary: Fragments of the process of falling in love with you; and the moment it all built up to.

A/n: This is my first time writing for this fandom and I'm only watched till the 2nd episode of S4 so please forgive any mistakes! Also, the Doctor might be ooc (my biggest nightmare, writing ooc characters) but I was possessed last night to write this instead of studying so ofc I will share it. The pacing is all over the place and I'm not the proudest but it's something. I hope you enjoy it regardless <3

also available on ao3!

The Doctor doesn't remember how it happened. It had been too quick, or maybe too slow– or maybe it was both at once, leaving him unable to pinpoint when or how he fell in love with you. All he knew was that it had been easy.

There were moments though– moments when he could remember distinctly the unusual rhythm of his hearts that played only around you. Moments when, in the back of his mind, he had no choice but to admit that he was in love.

The one that hurt him the most to this day was the moment born out of his own anger. It had been at the end of a particularly harsh adventure, one that had left his feelings in a jumble, anger hot and quick to lash out the moment you had pushed a little too far, too close to his heart and to his hurt– he had shouted at you, "Don't you dare! You are not special!"

There was silence for a few seconds, enough to get the Doctor to realise what he had said but it was your response that still haunted him to this day.

"I know," you had said gently. He could see the hurt in your eyes, masked with an understanding and soft smile that was reassured. "I know I'm not special. I'm perfectly ordinary. And isn't that wonderful? Someone special like you needs someone ordinary like me by his side– to remind you that it's okay to be ordinary sometimes. It's not a bad thing, Doctor."

You had inched closer and opened your arms to offer him a hug, a way out of the conversation – a silent way to make an apology. He had taken it, not knowing what else he could have done instead to make you realise that you were wrong. Being ordinary was wonderful, but you were special. Special to him in ways he was too terrified to admit even to himself, so much so that he had said the opposite in a fit of anger because he was scared.

He didn't know how you did it, but you somehow knew that his anger was just him being hurt and scared. And you were always generous with your hugs when anyone was afraid– didn't he know that after seeing you hold so many strangers close while on your dangerous adventures? Those same strangers that he had been jealous of had been replaced by him in that situation and suddenly, the moment was not all that he had hoped it would be. It wasn't a delicate and vulnerable moment like he had thought; he had ruined it by hurting you.

Yet you were never one to hold a grudge. You never really mentioned it, except in passing sometimes when you joked about being ordinary and common whenever an alien or person would think you extraordinary. Every single time, the Doctor regretted not letting you know the truth– but that moment had been one where he couldn't have denied the truth even if he was scared.

There were other times, other memories of you that were a lot more warmer to remember. Like the time when you had asked him, a few days after joining him, whether the TARDIS was alive. He had answered you with a simple yes, and you had just nodded then but he could see you take the time to pet the TARDIS and speak to her sometimes when you thought he wasn't around. It was sweet, the way you were connecting to his only constant through all of time and space.

There was a moment on another planet, one in the far past where an alien species had been under attack from another. The Doctor still remembered the sight of you holding the alien child in your arms while you all tried to escape– had heard the comfort you had whispered into the child's ears despite being scared underneath the surface yourself.

When he asked you about it later, you had just given him a radiant smile and said, "The fear is just my natural instinct, Doctor. But the conscious part of me knows that you are there– and it's never scared because it believes in you."

You believed in him.

Sometimes, he wondered why. On the days when all the two of you encountered was death and destruction, the whispers of the danger that follows the Doctor clanging in the back of his head as hollow reminders, he wondered why you would choose to put all your faith in him. Why would you think that he was special, but you were ordinary? How were you able to still offer him comfort after seeing him destroy planets, species, entire civilizations? What did you see in him, an empty shell of a man he once used to be?

"Doctor?"

Your voice was like a steady anchor whenever he felt like he was drowning in his own thoughts. The loud volume of it was always offset with the gentleness in your tone whenever you spoke to him, and somehow, it always managed to make him feel warm. It sounded a lot like ho–

"Doctor, are you okay?" Your voice was concerned now. The Doctor blinked, snapping out of his own thoughts to look at you. You were holding something in your left hand and reaching out to touch him with your right one. "Is there something I can do?"

"No, no!" He cleared his throat, giving you a bright grin that faded a little at the edges when he realised that you were still staring at him impassively. "Sorry, just got a bit lost in my thoughts there."

You hummed, wrapping your arms around the box in your hands now. The Doctor looked at it curiously; wasn't it one of those cookie tins that you said were always full of sewing materials?

"Was it… about her?" You asked quietly, a little unsure and hesitant. It was the only topic you never really brought up– and whenever you did, you always sounded a little scared. Like anything you said would hurt him too much. Or maybe you were scared to pry too far into his feelings. "The planet we went to today… Did you go there with her?"

He had done that before. You had been there with Martha, when he had taken you two to places he had been with Rose. Never again after that, though.

"No, not this one," he shook his head, trying to look you in the eyes. It was usually so easy, you were always looking at him with wide eyes that seemed to admire him. Now though, you were looking away. He tried again. "I wasn't thinking about her."

"Home, then?" You finally looked him in the eyes, a little tension sucked out but not all. Gallifrey was the second topic you were careful to speak around. You had had your fair share of answers demanded out of him like Martha had, but after that, you had let the choice lie with him whether he wanted to talk about it. And, weirdly enough, sometimes he wanted to tell you everything. Wanted to tell you about the place that once used to be his home. Now…

"This is my home now," he replied quietly, hand slipping to cover yours over the cookie tin. You and the TARDIS. Home. "Anyway, what's this?"

If you realised his terrible attempt at switching topics (which you did, as always), you didn't comment on it. Instead, you held up the box and opened it to reveal not the notorious sewing materials but actual cookies.

"I," you blushed, embarrassed for once. It was surprising, considering you had held steadfast through far more humiliating scenes in all your adventures. Why were you blushing over cookies? "I tried baking some cookies. It's not, it's not much, and they're not all that goo– hey! I'm still speaking!"

The Doctor didn't wait after hearing that you made them. He immediately picked one up to try it. He could tell that the baking powder was just a little bit too much and the mix wasn't done properly in some bits but you were looking at him with a shy smile.

"I thought you deserved a little nice something after the mess our last adventure was," you mumbled, picking up one of the cookies yourself to eat.

"It's good," the Doctor felt a little choked– not on the cookie, but there was a lump in his throat. You rolled your eyes, waving your half eaten cookie at him.

"Liar," you called out, smiling through the action. "I promise the next ones will be better. Or maybe I should try a cake next time. Would you like that?"

The Doctor stiffly nodded, trying to blink away the sting in his eyes. As always, you knew something was off.

"Hey," your voice was soft, concerned. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"No," the word came out before he could stop it. Somehow, neither his brain nor his mouth had a filter when it came to you. "I just… wonder."

You waited for him to speak when he paused, trying hard to put the words together. Speaking his emotions was always so difficult.

"I just wonder," he tried again, "what I did to deserve you."

"It's just cookies, silly," you shook your head, inching closer. The Doctor hoped you would step even closer. A hug would be really, really nice right now. "It's nothing compared to all that you've given me. I have seen so much, gone all across time and space because of you– I could ask you right back what I did to deserve you."

"It's not," he was struggling but he had to let you know. You looked a bit confused, pausing in your actions to look up at him. "It's not nothing. All of time and space is nothing compared to all that you have given me. That understanding, that comfort, that warmth– I can't find it anywhere else in that time and space you speak of."

"Doctor…"

"Do you remember that time I said you were not special?" He asked quietly, taking a step closer. It was the first time he had done it; usually, you were the one who had to cross the space between the two of you. You opened your mouth, probably to say that it was all bygones, but he rushed ahead with, "I lied. I have wanted to tell you ever since then, that I am just a coward, and a liar. Saying that you're not special… that was just me trying to tell myself that I can't let you be special to me. Because the moment I let that happen, that's the moment I–"

He broke off, frustrated at how the words just weren't coming out the way they were supposed to. What was he supposed to say anyway? It's not like he could tell you his feelings. There was no way you would take it kindly. Not after knowing about Rose, not when you had only ever looked at him with respect and admiration.

"Doctor," your voice was quiet but you were so close and the hum of the TARDIS had quietened so much that he could hear you clearly. "Don't."

Was it possible for both his hearts to sink? He stared at you, tears welling up in your eyes as you gave him a painful smile.

"Don't do this," you added shakily, your arms coming up to hold yourself. Beside you, the cookie tin lay forgotten on the console. "Don't… give me hope, only to take it away. I have been strong, but I'm not strong enough for this."

"What–?" He didn't understand. You closed your eyes and took a step back, a step away from him. Something inside him fractured.

"I have loved you in silence, Doctor," you said quietly, "and I thought I did it well enough for you not to realise. But I must not have done a good enough job hiding it– you know how it is. I'm not, I'm not asking you to return my feelings. I don't expect or even hope you to. All I ask is that you forget it. Forget you know it and let me go on one more adventure with you. One last, if you can no longer bear to see my face after this. Just one–"

"Why one?" He stepped closer, covering the distance you had backed up. "Why not all of them?"

You seemed to have lost your breath as you stared at him. "Y- You mean it? I can stay? You will forget this happened?"

"No," he shook his head, hands reaching out to touch your elbows. With his eyes, he asked you for permission. You would be mad to deny it, when that's all you've wanted for so long now. "I can't forget it even if I tried to. I told you, you are something that I can't find anywhere else in all of time and space. And if you choose me, then I'm selfish enough to not let you go."

°•���•°

all likes, reblogs, comments are appreciated ♡

[sleepingdeath-light]

relationship hcs ; burnt cheese cookie

requested by ; anonymous (30/09/23)

fandom(s) ; cookie run

fandom masterlist(s) ; hub | specific

character(s) ; burnt cheese cookie

outline ; “Hello, how are you? may I ask if you could do burnt cheese headcanons general, please thank you”

warning(s) ; some canon-typical angst, but mostly fluff!

loyalty is probably burnt cheese cookie’s defining trait — he stood sentinel at the gates of his kingdom even as his physical form perished, he continued to protect his queen and his people in their new digital world, and he when it comes to your relationship he wouldn’t even think about straying for a second (he may be ‘married’ to his work in a sense, but he loves you more deeply than any words could hope to convey, and that makes him both endlessly loyal/faithful and endlessly protective over you even when you’re apart)

whenever he’s standing guard at the city gates, he ensures that you’re never left alone and unprotected by sending some of his most well-trained jackals to your side — they will keep watch over you and your home, and keep you company, when he’s unable to (and they are very easily bought with plenty of treats and belly-rubs from you… but only you)

he mostly just calls you by your name and isn’t really sentimental enough to use specific terms of endearment (though, of course, he has no objections to you using any for him), but occasionally you might catch him calling you something like ‘my heart’ or ‘my love’ when you’re drifting off to sleep in his arms — usually in the context of him telling you to sleep well or trying to ward off any concerns or nightmares because he’s there now and he won’t let anything happen to you

burnt cheese cookie isn’t the most talkative most days, but he’s happy to sit and listen whilst you talk about anything and everything that comes to mind — whether that’s something as major as encountering an old friend by pure chance, or something as minor as accidentally nicking your finger on one of the knives whilst you were cooking — he could listen to you for hours and be content because, well, he loves the sound of your voice and he loves you, so why wouldn’t he want to know about what you did in his absence?

when it comes to physical affection, he greatly enjoys it after you’ve been together for a while but he struggles with initiating things with you, only ever being able to awkwardly reciprocate as he familiarises himself with it: kissing the top of your head and placing a hand on the small of your back when you hug him and bury your face in his neck, slowly wrapping his arms around you when you lay on top of him and start to drift off to sleep, chastely kissing every bruise and nick and scratch that he sees on your body when you get injured whilst apologising for not ‘protecting’ you

eventually, though, he does find that his favourite place to kiss you is on your knuckles — bringing your hands up to his lips and gently, chastely, kissing each one as he reiterates his love for you and his promise to keep you safe so long as you’ll let him (and even longer, even)

as mentioned above he’s incredibly, intensely, protective over you which manifests in two main ways — the first is that he will immediately confront anyone who tries to threaten you or that makes you uncomfortable without an ounce of hesitation, and the second is that he will treat each and every injury that you procure with such care and tenderness that it makes your heart swell (cleaning, dressing, checking over for any symptoms or other injuries, and all the while apologising for not being there to prevent you from getting hurt — even if it’s only something minor like a scraped knee or a paper-cut)

dates with him are extremely rare because of his duties as the sentinel of the kingdom, but he does try and spend time with you whenever he can — whether that means inviting you out to join him for a picnic whilst he works, or finding someone trustworthy to cover for just a few hours whilst you both go shopping (he never takes a full day off, it’s too risky, but he does what he can when he can for you)

when the two of you accept being put into that deep sleep for your goddess’ sake, you say your farewells and drift off in each other’s arms — him holding you close and pressing his lips to the top of your head whilst you’re curled up into his chest, whispering ‘i love you’ and ‘sweet dreams’ again and again as your eyes grow heavy and your forms flicked and glitch and fade

and when you wake up once again, however far in the future, in the dawn of a new kingdom, you’re still in that warm embrace and celebrate the first chapter of your new lives with a passionate kiss that nearly sends burnt cheese cookie tumbling down to the ground — the jackals jumping at your knees as you hold each other for the first time in forever in your real, physical, bodies

ready to celebrate your queen’s success, and the birth of a new era of the golden city, with a cheese feast and a party

[rebornofstars]

A LU Fic Rec List - NOVELS (50K-100K)

I love this fandom so much. Here are my favourite quality novel-length works for when you really feel like curling up with a long story and a hot cup of something. I recommend each and every one of them! In no particular order:

Child's Play by @aimeelouart

If you like the Wild deaging trope, this one is for you. If you like Flora and Wild having the most adorably protective and mildly codependent relationship, this one is for you. If you feel like reading something so cute you'll still be grinning hours later, this one is absolutely for you!

The Wondrous Sword of Legend by @imperialkatwala, @polynomialpandemic

If you like downfall duo, THIS ONE IS FOR YOU. The banter is excellent, the emotions feel real, and the catharsis is very heartwarming. If you've ever wanted to see sword spirit Legend, I am on my knees begging you to read this fic.

A Guide to Living (Again) by @cerame

I think I've read this fic at least five times now. If you like Shadow, this one is for you. If you like thinking about the Chain's Dark equivalents, this one is for you. Each character in this story is entirely three dimensional (despite being shadows 😂) - and it contains, probably hands down, my favourite characterisation of Dink I've ever read.

Language Barriers by Kastaborous

If you've ever wondered what a more realistic depiction of the language drift between the boy's eras would look like, look no further. If you're looking for linguaphile Wild, look no further! This fic is stunning in its detail and lore, and the reveal moment slaps.

Level One by LightBlueScrubs

If you like modern AUs, this one is for you! If you like gripping detail and a fully fleshed out world so harrowing and real that you are transported into the story, this one is for you! If you like angst, if you like following characters as they go through tough times together, if you like hospital settings, this one is destined for you.

this year it taught me (lost and ambitious) by @noorahqar

My friends like to joke that this fic is the Sky Bible (Skyble). It well deserves that title for its characterisation alone, yet it also contains top tier character dynamics and terrific hurt/comfort. This fic changed my perspective on Sky forever. Go read it.

Elastic Heart by @skyloftian-nutcase

If you like dungeon crawls and adventure, this fic is for you. If you like Sky angst coupled with the Chain's agonising worry for him, this fic is for you! If you like Demise's Curse reveals, you have found a masterpiece!

With a special mention to:

Colour Theory by @thescrapwitch

Not Linked Universe, but absolutely worth reading. If you've ever wondered how to reconcile the three doppels in Tri Force Heroes with the Colours from Four Swords Adventures, this is for you. If you've ever wanted a heartfelt murder mystery that is also a comprehensive overview of the game it lives in, this is for you!

I would like to make extra versions of this post for different story lengths - short stories, novellas, etc., so watch out for that. If you have any other fic recs for loz or lu in this word-count bracket, I would absolutely love to see them!

[newobsessionweekly]

Diamonds and dreams

Tim Bradford x Buckley!reader

Crossover The Rookie x 911

Fandoms: The Rookie, 911

Summary: Tim teams up with your brother, Buck, to plan the proposal. You get hurt in the process, unintentionally, but it's for a good cause.

A/N: Another crossover, and I don't think I'll stop here. I love so much both Tim and Buck. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this and I'm open for requests! I'm sorry if I made some mistakes while writing, english is not my first language, but I'm trying to improve. Thank you so much for your support so far. Take care of yourselves, bubs! I appreciate everything single one of you! Lots of love! ❤️

Warnings: Swearing ? Maybe. Bunch of fluff and banter anyways. Not proofread yet

Fluff | A bit of angst

Requested: No

Words: 4.9k

Requests are open for Tim and Buck.

GIF not mine, credits to the owner.

For the past three years, your life took unexpected twists, one after one. You didn't know back then how impactful a police officer doing his job would be to your life. You never expected to fall for the all-so-serious officer, whose indignation spoke volumes in the presence of firefighters.

Tim had only one opinion about the other branch of first responders — reckless, not so sharp, and definitely idiots, but they mean well. That was before meeting you.

After a massive earthquake hit LA, the chaos that followed can't be described. People running around looking for the close ones, screaming, and a lot of pain. LAPD was sent on the streets to maintain order while LAFD rushed to rescue everyone in need. They were hand in hand and, for the first time in his life, Tim was following the orders of a firefighter— you.

He complained at first, but when he understood you were more than a reckless woman, he obeyed. Back then, Tim saw in you a seriousness that made him eat his words. The way you pushed yourself aside for the safety of the civilians, the way you disobeyed the book in a risky situation, questioning everything you knew for the people. You allowed him to help, and he was there by your side the whole time, mesmerised by the way you gave everything you had, pushed away any fear and doubts and crawled into wrecked precincts to save every single one of them.

There was a huge difference between the two branches of first responders. LAPD was trained to save the law, maintain order, protect the vulnerable and punish the guilty, while LAFD was trained to protect and save regarding the guilty and they've seen unimaginable things, making them aware the life is short and you need to cherish it every second.

And when you showed him that ugly side of your job, Tim never saw you the same again. Drawn by your determination and dedication to save every soul and by your love and beauty you carried around, he fell for you, hard.

But he never accepted the real dangers of your job. Actually, he never accepted that your dedication was so profound, that you'd give your life to save another without second thoughts. He couldn't bare the thought of losing you some day due to your 'dedication'.

You’re both standing in the middle of the living room, the air thick with tension that’s been building for weeks. Tonight’s argument was inevitable, ignited by the underlying fear and frustration that’s been simmering beneath the surface.

Tim’s heart pounds in his chest as he looks at you, his concern turning into frustration. He knows that firefighting is dangerous, but seeing you take unnecessary risks feels like a constant weight on his shoulders.

“Damn it, Y/N!” he exclaims, his voice loud and filled with anger. “You can’t keep ignoring orders and putting yourself in danger! You’re a firefighter, not a one-woman hero team!”

You clench your fists, feeling defensive, his words sounding like an accusation. “I know what I’m doing, Tim. Sometimes you have to take risks to save lives.”

“Fire isn’t something predictable,” Tim interjects, his voice firm. “When you're dealing with an armed suspect, you can see the next move in his eyes. But with fire? It's nothing like that and, when it happens, it's probably too late."

His words cut deep, and tears fill your eyes as you try to make him understand. You feel misunderstood, judged, and it hurts.

“Predictable or not, I trust my instincts,” you shoot back, your voice shaking. “Sometimes you have to go with your gut, Tim, not just follow orders blindly.”

"But at what cost?” Tim retorts, his face flushed with frustration. “How many times do we have to argue about this before you realize that you’re not invincible?”

Your eyes fill with tears, the weight of his words hitting you hard. “I’m not saying I’m invincible,” you reply, tears streaming down your face. “I just believe in doing whatever it takes to save lives, even if it means bending the rules sometimes.”

“Bending the rules?” Tim’s voice cracks, hurt evident in his expression. “Y/N, this isn’t a game. Lives are at stake, including yours!”

You’re openly crying now, the tears blurring your vision as you try to make him understand. “I need you to trust me, Tim. Trust that I know what I’m doing.”

“I need to be able to trust that you’ll come home safely,” Tim says, his voice softer now, filled with genuine concern. “I can’t keep worrying every time you’re on shift, wondering if you’re going to make it home in one piece.”

"But this is who I am, Tim. I can’t change that.”

Tim’s thoughts swirl with a mix of love, fear, and frustration as he watches you, torn between wanting to protect you and knowing he can’t control your choices. “I need some time to think,” he finally says, his voice filled with resignation.

Without another word, you grab your bag and head for the door, leaving Tim standing alone in the living room, his face a mask of regret and worry. As you make your way to Lucy’s apartment, the weight of the argument pressing down on you, you can’t shake the feeling that something has changed between you and Tim, something that might be impossible to repair.

You stand before Lucy’s door, eyes red-rimmed and cheeks streaked with tears. With a shaky breath, you knock softly as your heart is pounding in your chest. The door swings open to reveal Lucy’s shocked face, her eyes widening at your disheveled appearance.

“Y/N? What the hell happened?” Lucy’s voice is filled with concern as she wraps you in a comforting embrace, feeling the tension in your body.

Tamara rushes in, eyes wide with worry. "Are you okay?”

As Lucy's comforting embrace envelops you, a mixture of relief and despair washes over you. You lean into her warmth, grateful for the solace she provides amidst the chaos of your emotions. Tamara's worried expression only adds to the weight of the situation, highlighting the gravity of the rift between you and Tim.

"I’m so sorry,” you stammer, tears threatening anew. “I didn’t know where else to go. I can't go to Buck like this and –"”

Lucy steps back, creating space for you to enter, "You're always welcome here, Y/N. You know that."

Lucy leads you to the couch and wraps her arm around your shoulders as you found a small measure of comfort in her presence. The unspoken understanding between you eases some of the ache in your heart, reminding you that you're not alone in this struggle.

Tamara places a comforting hand on your knee, her eyes filled with empathy as Lucy spoke, “Come on, tell us what happened."

You take a shaky breath, trying to steady your voice as you recount the intense argument with Tim. “We had a fight, a really bad one. He said he needed some time to think.”

Your love for Tim is boundless, a deep-rooted connection that fills your heart with warmth and joy. Every moment spent with him is a treasure, each shared smile and whispered promise a testament to the depth of your affection. And being so far from him, it was a nightmare. Leaving so abruptly, both of your anger and frustration bottled inside, this tore you apart.

Tamara’s eyes narrow, her tone incredulous. “Tim said that? What could possibly have happened?”

“He thinks I’m reckless, that I put myself and my team in danger,” you explain, the sting of his words still fresh in your mind.

The pain of your fight weighs heavily on your soul, a sharp ache that refuses to fade. His words cut deep, leaving you reeling with a sense of loss and betrayal. The thought of losing him, of facing a future without his love, is almost unbearable.

Lucy shakes her head, her eyes filled with empathy. “Tim’s always been by-the-book. He values rules and order. But being a firefighter isn’t always black and white.”

You nod, wiping away tears with the back of your hand. “Exactly. But he just won't listen.”

Lucy sighs, her eyes softening with understanding. “Tim loves you. He’s just scared. Scared of losing you.” She can see the pain in your eyes, the uncertainty about the future of your relationship.

“I know,” you sniffle, trying to hold back the tears. “But it’s not just about him being scared. It’s about understanding who I am and what I do.”

Tamara nods, her expression thoughtful. “Sometimes love isn’t enough, Y/N. Sometimes two people can love each other deeply but still be incompatible in some ways.”

“I don’t want to lose him,” you say, feeling the weight of her words. “But I also don’t want to lose myself.” You grapple with the conflicting emotions, torn between love and self-respect.

Lucy chuckles softly, trying to lighten the mood. She stands up, heading to the kitchen to prepare some tea. “You won't lose him. He’s stubborn as hell, but he loves you. You know that."

Tamara smirks, leaning back on the couch. “Well, men are from Mars, right? We’ll never fully understand them.”

Lucy laughs, raising her hands in mock surrender. “True that. But hey, if anyone can knock some sense into Tim, it’s you, Y/N.”

Tamara smirks, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she leans back on the couch. “You know, Y/N, I like you more and more. Just so you know, everything you’ve said tonight will be used against Tim tomorrow.” She winks playfully, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. “Lucy’s going to make his shift a living hell.”

Lucy chuckles, her eyes dancing with amusement. “Oh, you bet I will. He won’t know what hit him.” She laughs, the tension in the room further dissipating with their playful banter.

You can’t help but laugh along with them, grateful for the light-hearted moment amidst the emotional chaos. “Just promise me you’ll go easy on him. He’s still my guy, after all.”

Yet, even in the midst of your despair, your love for him remains steadfast. It is a beacon of hope in the darkness, a guiding light that keeps you tethered to him, even when the distance between you feels insurmountable.

Tamara raises an eyebrow, her grin widening. “No promises,” Lucy says with a playful shrug.

You shake your head, chuckling at their antics. “Alright, alright. Just remember, I’ll have to deal with him after you two are done.”

After a moment of silence, Tamara's face brightens, an idea forming. “You know what we need? A girls’ night. We could all use a little distraction, right?”

Lucy grins, nodding in agreement. “Absolutely. Some wine, some movies, and some girl talk. It’s just what the doctor ordered.”

You smile weakly, grateful for their support. “That sounds nice.”

Meanwhile, across town, Tim and Buck find themselves in the comfort of Tim's living room. With beers in hand and the soft glow of the TV providing background noise, both men seem to have left the weight of the day behind them, engrossed in their own world of laughter and banter.

But Tim's thoughts are consumed by the image of you, tears staining your cheeks as you walked out the door. Each memory of your tearful departure cuts him deeply, a sharp pang of guilt and sorrow gnawing at his heart.

Buck takes a swig of his beer, glancing over at him with a curious expression. “So, how did the fight go?”

Tim sighs, running a hand through his hair. "I think I overstepped a little. She was crying and she left. It broke me to see her like that and let her go."

Seeing you hurt because of him breaks him in ways he never imagined. He would give anything to erase the hurt he's caused, to mend the fractures in your relationship. But he knows that sometimes love requires sacrifice, even if it means bearing the weight of your pain.

Buck nods understandingly, setting his beer down on the coffee table. "It's all part of the plan, Tim. We knew it would be tough, but it's for the best." He tries to reassure Tim, understanding the struggle his friend is going through.

Tim looks at Buck, gratitude in his eyes. "I know, I know. It's just hard, you know? Seeing her hurt and knowing I'm the cause of it, even if it's for a good reason."

Buck places a comforting hand on Tim's shoulder. "At least this will buy us some time. Where's she now?"

Tim smiles slightly, the tension easing from his shoulders. "At Lucy's. She texted me when Y/N got there. She'll be crashing on Lucy's couch."

Buck chuckles, picking up his beer again. "Good, at least she's safe. Lucy will take care of her. She always does."

Tim nods, a grateful smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, Lucy's been great. I'm glad she's there for Y/N."

The two men sit in companionable silence for a moment, the weight of their secret plan hanging in the air between them. It's a plan born out of love and a desire to create the perfect proposal for you, but it comes with its own set of challenges and emotions.

Buck's voice is filled with excitement. "You know, once all of this is over, and you've proposed, it's going to be amazing. Y/N is going to be over the moon."

Tim smiles, the vision of his future with you filling his mind. "I know, Buck. I can't wait to make her my wife."

Amidst the pain, there's a profound love that anchors him, a love so deep it eclipses the darkness of your current strife. You're more than just his partner; you're his rock, his solace, his reason for waking up each day with a smile. Your laughter brightens his darkest moments, your touch soothes his weary soul, and your presence fills his life with a sense of purpose and joy he never thought possible.

The two men raise their beers in a toast, their smiles reflecting the hope and love that fills their hearts.

Tim glances over at Lucy, his voice filled with concern. "How's Y/N holding up? I haven't heard from her since that night."

He can't shake the self-loathing that grips him, the regret for letting things escalate to this point.

Lucy raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk on her lips. "A bit pissed at you, but she's safe."

"I hate myself for that. I really don't like this whole...situation. Especially letting her go and forcing her to sleep on your couch."

He never wanted to hurt you, never intended for things to unravel like this. And the idea of you sleeping on Lucy's couch, away from him, fills him with a sense of emptiness he can't bear.

She chuckles softly, her tone teasing. "You could've called, you know. Women like that kind of thing."

Tim lets out a sigh, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, I figured as much. I just thought... well, some space might be good."

Lucy's teasing only adds to his discomfort, her playful jabs hitting a little too close to home. He knows he should have done a lot of things, but fear and uncertainty held him back, clouding his judgment with doubt.

Lucy raises an eyebrow, “Space, huh? Sounds like a classic Bradford move. But you might want to pick up the phone. Y/N deserves to know you’re not pushing her away.”

Tim chuckles, shaking his head. "Trust me, I plan to. I just needed some time to... you know, plan everything out, to get it right."

Lucy grins, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "But you better make this worth it, you hear me?" She nudges him playfully. "And soon. She might love you and might be willing to wait for you, but don't test her patience."

Tim smiles, gratitude evident in his gaze. "I will, Lucy. And thanks, for everything."

Lucy waves him off with a chuckle. "Don't mention it. Just remember to thank me after she says yes." She winks at him, her smile warm and supportive.

You've been camping on the girls' couch for the past three days. It wasn't all that bad; some time off work was just what you needed, and your fight with Tim allowed you to sort through some old stuff.

When you were about to drift off to sleep again, Lucy burst into the living room. "Alright, couch potato, time to get up!”

You groaned, pulling a pillow over your face. “Five more minutes, Lucy.”

With a chuckle, Lucy yanked the pillow away and extended her hand. “Come on, Y/N. It’s time to get some fresh air. You can’t stay on my couch forever.”

Reluctantly, you accepted Lucy’s help to sit up. “What happened to ‘you’re always welcome here’? My free stay at Hotel Lucy is over?”

Lucy laughed. “Exactly. It’s check-out time, Missy.”

You smirked, slipping on your sneakers. "Well, send the bill to Bradford; he's the only one at fault for this."

With her keys in hand, Lucy grinned. “How about a ride along? A little patrol action might be good for you.”

Raising an eyebrow teasingly, you countered, “Trying to get rid of me, Lucy?”

She chuckled. “Just trying to help you get some fresh air. And maybe a little distraction.”

As you reluctantly rose from the comfort of Lucy's couch, a whirlwind of emotions churned within you. The past few days had been a rollercoaster of hurt, confusion, and a desperate longing to mend things with Tim. But amidst the chaos, there was a glimmer of hope – hope that today could mark the beginning of reconciliation, of healing the wounds that had torn you apart.

“Alright, alright. But only because I’m craving some fresh, questionable coffee from the station.”

“Deal. But you’re buying the donuts!” Lucy teased.

“Deal. But only if they have sprinkles.”

Suddenly, Lucy stopped and appraised you, shaking her head. “Oh no, no. You can’t possibly leave the house like that. Off to the shower with you, you’re starting to smell like my couch.”

Stepping into the shower, the warm water washing away the remnants of doubt and insecurity as you made a silent vow to yourself. Today would be the beginning of a new chapter for you both, a chance to rebuild what had been broken and to forge a stronger, more resilient bond.

You returned to find some of your clothes laid out on the couch, courtesy of Lucy and Tamara. Raising an eyebrow, you turned to Lucy. “Don’t you think that’s a little bit extra?”

It wasn't exactly what you'd wear for patrolling, but considering Tim probably handed them to Lucy, you couldn't really complain.

Just then, Tamara emerged from her bedroom with a smirk. “You should be thankful I didn’t pick the outfit.”

You chuckled, wondering why she wasn’t at school. “Fair enough. Shouldn’t you be at school by now?”

Tamara waved it off, pulling out her makeup kit. “I’ll miss the first period to do your makeup. You owe me.”

Sighing, you looked between Lucy and Tamara. “Come on, girls. It’s just a day of patrolling. Nothing special.”

Lucy shook her head, her eyes serious. “No, hun. Today you’ll be right next to Tim. Breathing in his neck. You need to show him what he’s missing.”

The engine's soft hum reverberates through the car as Tim navigates the streets, the tension inside as thick as the fog rolling in from the bay. Lucy rides shotgun, her mischievous glances back at you adding to the palpable unease. Seated in the back, you stare out the window, attempting to distract yourself with the passing scenery, anything to escape the suffocating silence.

Lucy's voice cuts through the tension like a knife, her cheeriness a stark contrast to the heavy atmosphere. "Hey, Bradford," she chirps. "How about we make a quick stop for some coffee and donuts? My treat."

Tim's eyes flicker to the rearview mirror, briefly meeting yours before he nods. "Sure, sounds good."

Pulling into a local coffee shop's parking lot, Lucy practically leaps out of the car, leaving you and Tim alone for a fleeting moment.

"You could've called," you murmur softly, finally breaking the suffocating silence. "Three days, Tim."

Tim's grip tightens on the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white. "I know, Y/N. I'm sorry. It's... it's complicated."

Before you can delve deeper, Lucy returns with a tray laden with coffee and a box of donuts. She hands you a cup before settling into her seat, her eyes glinting with an inscrutable knowingness.

As Tim lifts his coffee to his lips, you notice the slight tremble in his hand. "Everything okay, Tim?" Lucy inquires, her innocence a thin veil over her ulterior motives.

Tim clears his throat, averting his gaze. "Yeah, just a bit tired, I guess."

Lucy's smirk is unmistakable as she reaches for a donut. "Well, these should help with that."

Taking a sip of your coffee, you feel its warmth spreading through you, but it does little to dispel the tension in the air. However, there's a shift—a subtle change in the atmosphere. The silence is no longer suffocating; instead, it's pregnant with anticipation, each breath heavy with unspoken words.

Finally, Tim speaks, his voice laced with vulnerability. "Y/N, about the fight... I never meant to hurt you. I just needed some time to sort things out."

You meet his gaze, the sincerity in his eyes tugging at something deep within you. There's a weight to his words, a heaviness that speaks volumes about the distress he's been wrestling with.

As the shop continues its journey, the tension remains, but it's tempered now by a sense of curiosity and cautious hope. Unbeknownst to you, Tim's anxiety isn't solely about your relationship, and Lucy's scheming grin betrays her satisfaction with how her plan is unfolding.

Throughout the day, Tim's behavior had been perplexing, he carefully avoided any calls that hinted at danger. It felt as though he was intentionally shielding you from harm, a protective barrier wrapped around you even as you yearned for the adrenaline rush of the job.

But the tranquility of the day shattered with Nolan's urgent call for backup. The gravity of the situation hit you like a sledgehammer, sending a jolt of adrenaline coursing through your veins.

“Dispatch, this is Officer Nolan, requesting backup at my location. Officers under fire, need immediate assistance,” Nolan’s voice is clear and urgent.

Without hesitation, Tim accepts the call, urgency in his voice for the first time that day. “Roger that, Nolan. We’re en route.”

Tim accelerates towards the scene, the Griffith Observatory coming into view. The iconic building stands majestically atop the hill, its silhouette against the clear blue sky adding a surreal beauty to the unfolding situation.

As you arrived on the scene, the deafening sound of gunfire filled the air, drowning out any semblance of normalcy. Lucy and Tim sprang into action, their movements swift and purposeful as they navigated the chaos.

"Stay in the car, Y/N!" Tim's command pierced through the chaos, his tone leaving no room for debate.

But as you sat there, the abrupt silence that followed sent a chill down your spine. Lucy's panicked cry for Tim shattered the stillness, sending your heart into overdrive, “Bradford!”

Ignoring Tim's orders, you bolted from the shop, desperation fuelling your every step. The scene before you was a tableau of chaos and confusion, the beauty of the Observatory juxtaposed against the violence that unfolded within its walls.

You searched frantically for any sign of Tim or Lucy, all you found was Tim's abandoned radio, a silent witness to the turmoil that had unfolded.

The setting sun cast long shadows, casting an eerie glow over the scene, a reminder of the fragility of life in the face of danger. And the tension is electric, like the calm before a storm. Tim’s voice crackles through the radio, cutting through the silence.

“Y/N Buckley, can you hear me?"

Tim's heart races with anticipation as he waits for your response. He's nervous, hoping that you'll hear him clearly. He wonders if you'll be able to sense the nerves in his voice, hoping that you'll understand the significance of what he's about to do.

Grinning, you grab the radio. “Loud and clear, Bradford” you replied, your voice steady but your pulse quickening with each passing second.

A pause stretches out, thick with anticipation. “Close your eyes, Buckley. And this time, try not to defy a direct order.”

Rolling your eyes but intrigued, you humor him and shut your eyes, taking a deep breath of the crisp air, feeling a rush of excitement coursing through your veins. You focused on the sound of Tim's voice, letting it wash over you like a warm embrace as he began to speak.

"You and I, Y/N, we’re a wild ride,” Tim starts, his voice unexpectedly tender. “Who would’ve thought our journey would lead us here, to this crazy, beautiful moment?”

As Tim's voice crackled through the radio, a surge of nervous energy swept through him. He had rehearsed his words a thousand times in his mind, but now that the moment was upon him, he couldn't help but feel a pang of doubt.

The weight of the ring in his hand served as a reminder of the gravity of the situation, filling him with both excitement and trepidation.

A soft touch grazes your hand, sending a thrill up your spine. Your heart pounds in your chest.

“You challenge me, drive me nuts, and somehow make me a better man,” he continues through the radio, a hint of a smile in his voice. “And damn it, I love you for it.”

You can’t help but smile, a warmth spreading through you. As you listen, you feel tears prickling at the corners of your closed eyes. Tim's words resonate with you, stirring something within yourself that you can't quite put into words.

You want to open your eyes, to see the man you love more clearly, but you also want to savor this moment a little while longer.With each word, you feel your heart swell with love for Tim. His vulnerability, his honesty, it all takes your breath away, leaving you utterly captivated.

"Open your eyes, sweetheart," Tim's voice breaks through your reverie, pulling you back to the present moment.

With a flutter of excitement, you obey, slowly parting your eyelids to reveal the sight before you. There is Tim, his eyes filled with love and longing as he slowly kneels down before your eyes, a small velvet box in his hand. The sight of him, vulnerable and trembling, fills you with a sense of awe and gratitude as the setting sun casts a golden halo around him, the cityscape stretching out behind him in a breathtaking panorama.

Tears of joy well in your eyes as you take in the sight of the ring in his hand, your heart overflowing with love for the man who means the world to you.

“Y/N Buckley,” Tim’s voice wavers just a bit, “will you marry me?”

For a moment, you are stunned into silence, your mind reeling with the weight of his question. You feel a surge of emotion welling up inside, threatening to spill over at any moment. This is it, the moment you've been dreaming of, the moment you've been waiting for since you laid eyes on Tim, few years back.

Tim chuckles, a nervous but endearing laugh. “I’ll take that as a yes?”

"Yes, Tim. A thousand times, yes!" your voice choked with tears, as your words ring out into the night, a declaration of love and commitment that echoes through the air.

With a trembling hand, Tim slips the ring onto your finger, sealing their promise with a simple yet profound gesture. As your eyes meet once more, you share a moment of perfect understanding, a silent acknowledgment of the love that binds you together.

Without another word, you're in each other's arms, holding onto each other tightly as if trying to make up for all the time you've lost. In that moment, nothing else matters but the overwhelming love you share, a love that has weathered every storm and emerged stronger than ever before.

Tim's lips meet yours in a tender kiss, a sweet yet passionate embrace that speaks volumes more than words ever could. You cling to each other, lost in the intensity of your emotions, your hearts beating as one in the darkness.

As you pull away, breathless and flushed with emotion, you share a smile that lights up the night. In each other's arms, you find solace and strength, knowing that no matter what the future holds, you'll face it together, hand in hand, heart to heart.

Nolan chimes in through the radio, his voice filled with laughter. "Bradford, are we breaking out the champagne or what?"

Tim's smile widens at Nolan's words, and he glances over at you with a playful twinkle in his eye. "Hold off on the champagne, Nolan," he replies, unable to suppress a laugh. "She said yes."

Murmuring softly, Tim leaned in close to your ear. "I guess I didn’t mess this one up, huh?"

You chuckled softly, leaning into his embrace. "Not this time, Bradford."