#there is so much good Tyler to unpack here

[clairenatural]

Dean doesn't like the word "boyfriend." He decides this the second time Cas says it–the first time it was new, shiny, exciting. The second time, he fights the urge to cringe.

It's not the "boy" part. It's not. It would have been, for a long time, but he's dug all that shit up and unpacked all the suitcases. They hold hands in public. They kiss goodbye in front of his coworkers at the garage.

It's just–not enough. Not nearly. Jack comes home from hanging out with his friends and fills Dean on the gossip and his boyfriend and her girlfriend and–that's not them. "Boyfriend" feels like a cheap mockery. Like how demons used to tease.

He's heard "partner." He's heard it from Sam, to Eileen, but he doesn't know how he can stomach it. He's said that word too many times. I'm Agent Tyler and this is my partner, Agent Perry. This is my partner, Agent Page. My partner, Agent Stills. All lies. Sam says he likes it, that he's making it mean something real. Besides, Eileen loves it.

Good for them, Dean thinks. It makes his skin crawl.

So he sticks with “boyfriend” and he shrugs off the funny urge to protest every time Cas says it. It makes him happy, and honestly, it’s not like he has an alternative.

It’s a Sunday when he realizes that somehow, Cas does. They’re at the farmer’s market, like Cas is every weekend, but Dean had picked up weekend shifts and missed the past few. Cas is excited the whole way there, telling Dean about how he’d manage to befriend the local honey vendor in his absence, how she’d invited him to a beginner’s apiarist group she helps run. They beeline (heh) to the honey booth as soon as they get there, and the woman--Judith? Janice?--smiles up at them both, hands Cas a jar of honey like she’d been expecting him, and says “Oh, this must be the husband! I’ve heard so much about you.”

Dean stares at Cas. Cas stares at the honey. Judith/Janice stares at both of them, smile fading as the silence goes on a beat too long. 

Dean clears his throat. “Uh, yeah. The husband, that’s me! Ha ha.” Beside him, Cas relaxes, just barely. In front of him, the woman breathes an audible sigh of relief. “Sorry,” Dean shifts. “Just didn’t, um. Realize I was such a hot topic.” 

The smile he gets is almost sympathetic. “Oh, only good things. Here,” she hands him a business card. “You should also come out to our meeting on Wednesday. Lots of people bring their partners.” She leans in, almost conspiratorial. “Beekeeping can be wonderful for couples.”

It’s at this point that Cas clears his throat and finally looks up from the honey in his hand, evidently giving up hope on escaping this conversation. “Thank you, Janet.” (oh. Janet.) “Dean works late on Wednesdays, but I’m very excited to see you all.” He’s pulling out money as he says this, apparently deciding to just go ahead and end the entire interaction. He hands her the bills, grabs Dean’s hand, and is already moving away from the booth by the time Janet calls “See you Wednesday!” after them.

Cas drags him all the way back to the car without stopping for tomatoes, or Sam's carrots, or the free-range eggs that are way too expensive but Cas buys anyway because you can taste when the hen is well cared-for, Dean (whatever that means). They slide into the car, still not talking, and sit in silence for several long seconds. Dean stares at Cas, who stares out the windshield at the parking lot.

"I can explain," Cas speaks, finally, right as Dean was about to open his mouth and say anything to break the silence.

Dean pauses. Can you? Cause I feel like I missed a few chapters, he thinks.

"I don't work late on Wednesdays," he says instead.

"Oh." Now it's Cas staring at Dean, and Dean staring out at the asphalt.

He turns the keys. He drives them home.

Later, making dinner, Dean rolls the word around in his head. Husband. He's making his husband pasta (It's missing the tomatoes. He's made more with less).

Husband doesn't feel like a costume, like an ill-fitting suit and scratchy tie. It doesn't feel like high school gossip, or a monster trying to hit him where it hurts. It settles in warm in his chest.

It's just the two of them that night, and they're eating in the comfortable silence of the bunker until Dean clears his throat and brings it up. "Why does Janet at the farmer's market think we're married?"

Cas pauses, fork of pasta halfway to his mouth. He puts the fork down and takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not mad," Dean hurries to clarify. "It's just that there's usually, uh. Steps, you know. Like a whole....thing."

"I'm aware." Cas sighs. "She assumed, seeing us around - the first time I spoke to her without you, she asked where my husband was. And I..."

"You didn't correct her?"

"...No. I, um." Cas is looking down at his plate again. He picks up the fork, still half-full of pasta, then puts it back down again. "I didn't want to?" He says the end of the sentence like a question but looks back up at Dean and squints just a bit, and Dean knows he's watching for a reaction.

"Uh huh."

"It felt trivial."

"To tell her we're not married?"

"To call you my boyfriend." For the first time, he stumbles over the word.

Dean blinks. "You--" he stops, brain processing too much information to finish that sentence. "Okay." He leans back in his chair. Sighs. Rubs a hand across his eyes and lets it drag down his face. "Okay, listen. I don't like boyfriend either, but we gotta...talk about it."

"We are talking about it. You don't like it either?" Cas leans forward as Dean slumps back, following him across the table.

Dean snorts. "No, man." He shakes his head. "It's been a decade. I've seen you die." Six times. But who's counting.

"I agree." Cas pauses, and then, as if it's the most natural conclusion in the world, "Will you marry me?"

Dean actually laughs at this. "You're asking me that now?"

Cas quirks an eyebrow at him. "I've grown quite fond of calling you my husband at the farmer's market. I'd like to continue."

Dean stares at him in disbelief. It's not how he'd pictured it going, but he also can't think of it going any other way. Slowly, he nods. "Yeah, okay. Let's be husbands."

Across the table, Cas grins at him.

"But we're getting rings," Dean points a finger at him, because something about this is going to be normal.

"If you'd like. Although I already told Janet that you can't wear a ring because of your work at the garage, and I don't wear mine in solidarity."

"Rings," Dean insists, and decides to overlook the rest of that sentence. For now. He stabs his fork into a pile of the pasta. "And let me stop for the damn tomatoes next time."

They get rings and wear them on chains around their necks. Cas puts a beehive on the hill, and there's a small ceremony in the summer - a "vow renewal" to Cas' beekeeping group, who all receive invites attached to little jars of honey. Janet gets the nicest one.

[cosmickid-inmotion]

oooo I got a worst Logan blurb for you if that’s okay. But Logan with a new girlfriend that treats him like he’s her absolute world. Like maybe they’ve been dating for a few months, enough for it to be serious, and they’re both involved in each other’s lives pretty significantly. But she just really cares for him, genuinely, and not to overwhelm him, but he’s the background on her phone, and she’ll put him first compared to other important things in her life. Just super sweet and fluff. Feel free to change anything, thank you

Absolutly!!! I love this Idea!!!!

Whole World

Logan Howlett x fem!reader

Logan loved coming home. Even better, he loved having a home to come to in the first place, and he loved his girlfriend that was so freshly living with him that her boxes were still unpacked, and several heavy ones were still in his truck bed.

Logan calls your name, and within a second he hears the pitter patter of your feet running, scampering down the stares and around the corner.

"LOGAN!!!" You're face brightens immidiatly and so does his day. You looked so cute, little blue jeans peaking out from under a big shirt, and mismatched goofy socks on your feet. You run to him, and Logan doesn't hesitate to pick your up and spin you around.

"Heya baby, how was your day?" He asks when he settles down, staying carrying you. Your legs lock around his waste as he takes you to the kitchen.

He sets you down on the counter. "Good! Got a lot unpacked, Sorry, I meant to have dinner ready." You pout, but he just chuckles, reaching around you to turn on the oven.

"You were busy, don't be sorry. Besides, I can cook too."

"You're making frozen pizza, aren't you?"

"Always." He grabs a pop tart packet.

You whine a little. "You need real food! You work hard."

"So do you, baby." Logan plops the pop tart in your mouth. "Now, talk to me while I 'Cook.' Been wait'n all day to hear your voice."

So you did. As the pizza cooked you watched as he nailed some pictures to the walls, nodding his head and occasionally making little comments, even as you caught him up on the newest episode of the bachelorette.

"I can't believe Tyler did that." He played along with your chatter. He was really so perfect. Your loving man did so much for you, he was your everything. He worked hard, did all the silly romance stuff like buy you flowers and you liked to think you returned the favor. Logan came before everything else, not that he asked for it. He asked for so little, and sometimes it hurt your heart that he didn't ask for more. Did he not understand he deserved the whole world?

After dinner, you guys go outside for a peaceful evening of some yard work. You wanted a garden, so Logan had been working o tearing up some of the lawn and creating a border. Meanwhile, you weeded the backyard, the two of you just listening to music together. When Logan takes off his shirt, you stare at him, hard. Tense, rippling muscles dripping with sweat, moving and flexing all for you. He deserved a treat.

"I'm gonna head inside, Lo."

"Okay baby, I'll be inside in a few, gonna get this section done."

You knew he'd say that. Gave you the perfect opportunity.

15 minutes later when Logan trudged upstairs, he called your name. "Where'ya at?"

"In here!" You call from the bathroom. When Logan entered, he found you in there, grinning up at him. The bathroom was dark except for the scented candles, gentle music playing.

Logan smiles down at you. "Whatcha planning here, bub?"

You rock on your heals. "I was thinking... you worked so hard today... maybe I give you a nice relaxing bath... I can wash you, if you let me..."

His perfect girl, so eager to please, Logan takes you into his arms, kissing the top of you're head. "Only if you join me?"

So you did. You got in the tub with him, dropping some lavender oils in but not to much to overwhelm his nose, and washed him with your loofa. You even take your exfoliater and scrub him down, even massages his feet. Logan had installed a detachable shower head, so you straddled his hips and even washed his hair. While letting the conditioner you insisted on work on his dark locks, you simply rest on his chest in a hug. He was so touch starved, you knew, years of isolation until he met Wade, but you were going to make up for that. Your were going to make up for every day he felt alone. Logan's hands cupped the water, drawing it up your back where it trickles down again, keeping you warm.

"You're perfect, you know that?" Logan mumbled into your ear.

"Hmmmm.... mid." You joke, but Logan wasn't taking it. He pulled you back, cupping your face and looking directly in your eyes.

"Not funny." Logan admonishes. "I want you to say it. Say, I'm perfect."

You knew better than to argue with him. So, you just smile. "I'm perfect. Your turn."

Logan chuckles. "Good girl. I'm perfect. You happy?"

You rest on his chest again. "Very."

[silent-stories]

𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐇 𝐁𝐑𝐔𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒 - 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄

Pairing: underground fighter! noah x reader

Series summary: You’re dragged to watch an illegal fight, and after the match, you meet Noah, a fighter who seems to be battling more than just his opponents.

Tw: mentions of trauma and coping behaviors

Series masterlist

Noah and you were both seated at the table, half-finished plates in front of you, with the smell of coffee still filling the air. The sunlight was pouring into your kitchen in soft streaks, catching dust in the air and warming the tiles under your bare feet.

It should’ve been a peaceful morning but Noah was quiet. He wasn't the most talkative person in the world but like this? It was weird.

He hadn’t said much since you’d gotten up, only murmuring a thank you when you set his plate down. Now he was chewing absently, eyes unfocused, like his thoughts were somewhere far away.

You glanced up at him, fork pausing midway to your mouth. “Okay, so… are you having a staring contest with the wall and losing or something happened?”

Nothing. Not even a flicker of amusement.

Usually, that kind of comment would earn you at least a smirk or a joke that was not really funny but made you laugh anyway. This morning, he didn’t even blink. Just tore off another piece of toast and stared down at his plate.

You lowered your fork and leaned forward a little. “Hey,” you said, softer now. “You good?”

Noah looked up, slow like it took effort, and offered the tiniest of smiles. “Yeah. I’m good.”

You could tell he wasn’t, but you didn’t press him.

At least not right away. Not as the minutes ticked by over coffee, or as you washed the plates in the sink while he stood quietly at the counter, drying them. You didn’t press him when you caught him staring out the window, shoulders drawn tight.

You told yourself maybe it was just a rough morning. Everyone had those.

You let it go until the very last minute, until your bag was on your shoulder, shoes on your feet, and your hand was on the doorknob, ready to leave for work. Then you turned back to him.

You knew this wasn’t easy for him. Being here. Letting himself have this. A quiet kitchen. A morning routine. Someone who asked how he was and waited for an honest answer. He was still getting used to it all.

And maybe after what he told you that night, about Tyler, the memories were closer than usual, louder, harder to push away.

Noah was a good person. A good person carrying a lot more than he let on. And maybe, one day, you’d talk to him about therapy. About unpacking some of what he kept locked inside with someone that could actually help him in ways that maybe you didn't know. But not now. Not yet.

You were afraid that if you brought it up, he’d take it the wrong way, that maybe it would hurt him even more than he was already hurting every single day.

So instead, you turned and looked at him gently. “Are really you sure you’re okay?”

He looked up, met your eyes, and this time held your gaze a little longer. His voice was soft. “Yeah. I am. Really. Don't worry.”

You studied him for a beat longer, searching for anything in his expression that said otherwise. Then you nodded. “Okay.”

You hesitated at the door, hand still resting on the knob. “Can I kiss you?”

His eyes softened, and he smiled. “Of course you can.”

You stepped back toward him and he leaned in, his hand coming up to your cheek, and kissed you.

And when you pulled away, you searched his face for a moment longer, like looking for all the answers you wanted in his brown eyes.

You hoped that if something was bothering him, he would tell you soon. Just because you wanted him to be okay.

You hated seeing him like this, distant and withdrawn for reasons you didn't know, and you weren’t sure if asking again would help or just push him further away.

Nick was hunched over the chair, gloves on, focused and quiet as he worked on Matt's lower leg. From where you sat, you could see the intricate blackwork slowly taking shape.

You were leaning on the counter, while, next to you, perched cross-legged on one of the stools, was Amber.

She wore a mesh long-sleeved top layered under a velvet corset-style tank, high-waisted plaid trousers with wide legs and chunky black platform boots that made a rhythmic thud every time she swung her feet. Her blond curls were extra bouncy today, probably the result of some new hair potion she found online. Her gloss shimmered when she talked, as she flipped through a design magazine.

“So,” she said, eyes still on a page full of avant-garde accessories, “how is he doing?”

You smiled softly. “He’s… good. Moving around like it’s nothing, you saw that too, he's basically full healed.”

Amber glanced at you, then raised a skeptical brow. “But?”

You let out a breath and rested your elbow on the counter, propping your chin in your hand. “But I don’t know. This morning he was weird. Quiet. Like... not his usual quiet. It felt like his mind was somewhere else.”

Amber closed the magazine and turned to face you fully. “Did you ask him?”

You nodded slowly. “Yeah. Twice. And he said he was fine. But I don’t think he was.”

She studied you for a moment, not saying anything right away.

“I just… I keep wondering if he’s thinking about going back.” Yoi added.

“To fighting?”

“Yeah.”

Amber tilted her head. “Do you think he wants to?”

“I don’t know.” You said, “He hasn’t said anything and I don't know what's going on in his mind. I know it’s not my decision and it’s his life. But if he went back, I know it would only be to punish himself. He fights on purpose to get hurt, because he thinks that’s the life he deserves.”

Amber was quiet for a moment, then said, softly, “You’re scared.”

You nodded. “Yeah. I am.”

“You love him.”

“I do,” you said, voice quiet.

Amber reached across and laced your fingers with hers for a second. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with wanting to protect someone you love. But also… knowing him the way I’ve seen you talk about him, I think he’s probably trying to figure it out, too. Trying to figure out how to deserve what he has now.”

You blinked at her. “That’s a really smart thing to say for someone who once got glitter glue in her eye.”

“I contain multitudes,” she said with a grin.

You chuckled.

“Okay. Enough about my relationship,” you said after a moment. “How’s it going with Vivienne?”

“Oh,” she said, pretending to be casual and obviously failing, “it’s… fine.”

You gave her a look. “That’s not a ‘fine’ face.”

She grinned wider, finally meeting your eyes. “Okay, fine, it’s great.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Like… weirdly great. Suspiciously great. I keep checking for hidden cameras.”

You laughed. “You deserve it.”

The phone rang just as you were mid-conversation with Amber. You gave her an apologetic look and picked it up, shifting your tone automatically to that of your professional front-desk voice.

It was someone looking to book a consultation: first tattoo, very nervous, wanted to talk through everything in person before committing. You jotted down the details, set up a time for next Thursday, and gave them a warm reassurance that Nick was great with first-timers. After you hung up, you slipped the appointment note onto the schedule and looked back up.

Across the shop, Matt let out a short whistle and sat up straighter in the chair, stretching his leg while Nick dabbed gently at the inked skin.

“And you know,” he said, probably continuing a conversation he was having with Nick, “I’ve been thinking.”

Nick grunted something that sounded vaguely like “Uh-oh.”

“No, seriously,” Matt went on, looking over at you. “I’ve been thinking about organizing something weekly at the gym. Like… I don’t know. Something fun. A class maybe. Not super intense. Like calling someone in from outside.”

You tilted your head, curious. “Like what kind of class?”

Matt shrugged. “Could be anything really, like bodyweight circuits, self-defense, mobility stuff. And like” He paused, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “maybe boxing. That’s always popular. Good cardio. Gets people out of their heads a bit.”

He turned more fully toward you. “Your friend’s good at boxing, right? Noah? The guy you wanted the empty gym for?”

You blinked, caught off guard for half a second, then nodded. “Yeah. He’s… really good. He definitely knows a couple of things about it.”

Matt snapped his fingers. “That’s what I thought. I would like to talk with him about it. You think he’d be into something like that?”

You hesitated, then asked, “Like teaching?”

“Yeah. Beginners. Or even kids, if he’s good with them. A couple afternoons a week. Nothing crazy. Paid, obviously,” Matt said, “We’ve got space and gear, and you know that. I just need someone solid to lead it. And if you trust him, I trust him too.”

You glanced at Amber, who was watching you with a knowing little smile, then back at Matt.

“I can ask him,” you said, “I mean, I don’t know what he’d say but… yeah. I think he might be open to it.”

Matt gave a satisfied nod. “Cool. Let me know. No pressure. Just feels like something the gym’s been missing lately, you know? And I’d rather bring in someone you tell me could be good at it rather than some influencer wannabe who’s gonna make tiktoks all the fucking time.”

You laughed. “Fair.”

You thought that could be something that kept him close to what he knew, but safe. And maybe, with a job like that, he wouldn't even want to go back to the fighting life anymore.

“I’ll talk to him,” you said again, this time with a soft smile. “I think… it could be really good for him.”

You got home in the afternoon, the light soft and golden through the windows. The front door clicked shut behind you as you kicked off your shoes, the familiar thud of them landing against the wall in the quiet house.

Noah was in the living room with Alpine curled up beside him, one hand idly resting on the cat's back, the other holding a mug that had probably gone cold. His eyes lifted to you when you walked in.

“Hey,” he said.

But his voice was distant.

“Hey,” you replied, your bag sliding off your shoulder. “Everything okay?”

He nodded once, barely. Then looked back at the muted television screen.

You paused in the doorway a moment longer, trying to gauge him. But his expression gave nothing away.

“I’m gonna take a quick shower,” you said eventually.

He gave a small, absent nod.

You honestly didn’t know what to do. You weren’t sure if saying something, trying to get him to talk, would help or only make things worse. You’d never been with someone carrying around so much unresolved trauma, and you didn’t want to push him too far.

Part of you wanted to shake him, tell him you were here, that he didn’t have to carry it all alone. But the other part knew that this wasn’t something you could force. He had to come to you when he was ready.

The water was hot, steam curling around your skin as you stood under the spray, hands pressed against the cool tile. You should’ve felt better. Refreshed. But your mind was already racing.

You’d been thinking about Matt’s offer ever since he brought it up. About how it could be a door, maybe not wide open, but cracked just enough, for Noah to choose something different. Something better. Something that didn’t end with blood on his knuckles and guilt carved into his chest.

You wanted to tell him after the shower. Wanted to sit beside him and say, Hey, maybe you're gonna be okay.

But when you stepped out, wearing clean clothes, the living room was empty.

“Noah?” you called.

No answer.

You walked to the kitchen, then the hallway. Nothing.

Then you saw him through the window.

He was outside, sitting alone on the edge of the low wooden steps that led into your garden. The sky was turning orange, streaked with violet, the last sun of the day bleeding over the rooftops.

You stepped out quietly, the screen door creaking just slightly.

He didn’t turn around when he heard you. Just sat there, shoulders hunched, elbows on his knees, staring ahead like he was watching something that wasn’t there.

You sat beside him.

Before you could say anything, before you could even take a breath, he spoke.

“I can’t stay.”

You blinked. Turned toward him. “What are you talking about?”

He didn’t look at you. “I’ve got a match tonight. I'm going. And I think it's a good idea if I don't come back here.”

Your heart dropped. “Noah…”

He finally turned his head toward you. He looked almost in physical pain while talking. You knew he didn't want that.

"Noah, you don’t have to do this—”

“I do,” he cut in. “You can't understand.”

“No, you don’t. You’re not doing this because you need the money, or because you miss it, or because it’s you like it even one bit. You’re doing this to hurt yourself. Because you still think this is what you deserve, and I'm fucking sick of it.”

He swallowed hard, throat moving, then he stood up, like to shake off some feelings.

“And I get it,” you went on, voice trembling now. “I get it, okay? You’ve been through hell. And you're using fighting as a form of self- harm."

He didn’t say anything.

"And don't lie to me. Don’t pretend this isn’t self-harm. You don’t even walk into those matches hoping to win. You walk in, hoping someone hits hard enough to make you feel another kind of pain for a while.

And I know you don’t think you’re worth anything good. That you think pain is the only thing that makes sense to you now. But you are not broken, Noah. You’re not something to throw away.”

You shook your head, tears starting to brim. “You’re not a weapon, Noah. You’re not just fists and fresh bruises and anger. You’re kind. You’re patient. You make coffee as I like it every morning and leave the light on in the hallway because you know I hate walking in the dark. You stay quiet when I’m tired and you let Alpine fall asleep on your chest even though you say you’re not a cat person. You let yourself be loved even when you don’t know how to ask for it.”

He looked down at his hands.

You exhaled, shaking. “And you’re leaving? After everything? After all the 'thank you, stars' bullshit?"

“I have to,” he whispered. “You don’t get it, I—” he moved, pacing a few steps away. “I wake up every morning waiting for something to go wrong. Waiting to ruin it. To ruin you. And if I keep staying, I will. It’s just a matter of time.”

“You think running away is going to fix that? That disappearing will protect me? You think that’s love?”

“I know it is!” he snapped, spinning around to face you now. “I’ve never loved anyone like this before. Never let anyone close enough to see all the shit I hide. And I look at you and I—" he broke off, his voice catching.

“I look at you and I want to be better, but I don’t know how. Everything I keep thinking about is that this is not something for me, that only if I'm pain I'm getting what I deserve.”

Your shook your head, tears falling down your cheeks.

“I’m so fucking tired,” he said, quieter now. “Of pretending I’m someone you deserve.”

You crossed the distance between you.

“Noah,” you said, softly. “You are someone I deserve. You are exactly who I want. Even when it’s hard. Even when you’re hurting. Even when you’re not sure. Because knowing you changed me. Forever. And that can’t be undone. Because now I know what I want. And it’s you.”

His jaw clenched.

You reached out and touched his hand. “Matt, the guy owns the gym we went to, he asked me today if I knew anyone who could teach boxing to kids. Or beginners. Paid. And I thought of you. I saw you doing that. Choosing something different. Not to punish yourself.”

He was silent again, breathing ragged, his fingers twitching against yours like he wasn’t sure whether to pull away or hold on.

“I wanted to tell you about it,” you whispered. “Because I thought maybe it would give you something to hold onto. Something that made staying make more sense to you.”

He looked at you, his eyes full of conflict and grief.

“I love you,” you said, voice trembling. “I don’t want to lose you. Not like this. Not ever.”

He shut his eyes. “I love you too,” he said. “God, I do.”

Then he opened them and stepped back.

“And that’s why I can’t stay.”

“Noah—”

“If I stay, I’ll destroy everything good in this. In you.”

“You won’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

“You don't know you will.”

He looked at you one last time like it physically hurt him to do it.

Then he turned and walked to the gate.

You moved after him, barefoot in the grass. “Noah, please.”

He opened the gate.

“Please don’t do this,” you said, barely a whisper now. “Please don’t go.”

He hesitated at the threshold. You thought, hoped, maybe he’d stop.

He looked over his shoulder.

“I’m sorry.”

And then he walked away.

The sun had almost disappeared by the time Noah reached the main road.

He walked fast, like maybe if he stopped moving, he’d change his mind.

The bus stop wasn’t far, fifteen, twenty minutes at most, but it felt longer with every step. Not because of the distance. Because of the weight he was suddenly feeling in his chest. In his limbs. In his thoughts.

He kept telling himself this was the right thing. That leaving was the right choice. The only way to stop dragging you down with him.

But the further he got from your street, the harder it was to breathe.

He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, jaw tight. The air was cooling fast, but he barely noticed. All he could feel was the burning behind his ribs.

After Tyler, everything had gone numb. The world didn’t make sense anymore, but at least it had one clear rule: keep fighting.

And then you came along.

And ruined everything.

Because now he did have something to lose, he had something else he wanted instead of fighting.

Now, he woke up to your voice, your hand brushing his, your goddamn eyes looking at him like he was someone worth saving.

And that was the problem.

You made him doubt the one thing he’d been sure of since the night they zipped Tyler into a trash bag: that pain was the only thing he had left. That the ring was the only place he belonged. That people like him didn’t get soft things. Mornings in warm kitchens. Someone waiting for him at the door.

You made him think maybe, just maybe, he didn’t have to feel pain to feel alive.

But he couldn’t trust that.

He just couldn’t.

And now he was walking away from it. From you, because maybe if he ripped the bandage off fast enough, it would hurt less in the long run.

Except it didn’t feel like relief. It felt like he was losing the only thing that could make him happy.

Halfway to the bus stop, he stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, fists clenched so tight his nails bit into his palms.

He felt like there were two voices in his head—one screaming at him to turn around, to go back to you and kiss you until your lips turned blue, to hold you in his arms forever (or at least until Alpine started meowing for food).

The other told him to keep walking, not to look back, and to spend the rest of his life trying to forget you.

And in that moment, he wished he could silence them both.

He looked up and there was a crumbling concrete wall on the side of an old mechanic’s garage.

Without thinking, without even breathing, he turned and slammed his fist into it.

The crack of skin against stone echoed sharply. But he didn’t stop.

He hit it again. And again. And again.

Until the rough surface ripped his knuckles open. Until his blood painted the wall in splashes of red. Until pain finally overtook the chaos inside him and gave him something solid to hold onto.

Because that was the only thing he was good at.

He stood there afterward, chest rising and falling fast, knuckles torn and bleeding, hand trembling like a live wire. His fingers screamed every time he moved them.

And still… it wasn’t enough.

None of it ever was.

He let his forehead drop lightly against the wall, shut his eyes, and tried to steady his breath.

It was stupid. Reckless. Desperate. The kind of thing that never fixed anything but felt like the only thing he knew how to do.

After a long moment, he peeled back, stared at the damage on his hand. Swiped the blood on his pants like he didn’t care, even though it throbbed in time with his heartbeat.

He started walking again, and as Noah approached the bus stop, the sun had dipped almost completely below the horizon, leaving the sky a soft wash of blue-grey and amber.

There were two people already sitting on the bench: a couple, young, maybe early twenties. They were close, in that easy, familiar way people get when they’ve been choosing each other over and over, day after day. The girl had her head resting lightly against the boy’s shoulder, her arms tucked inside her jacket, legs drawn slightly toward him. He had one hand resting on her thigh, fingers brushing the seam of her jeans in slow, absent movements, the other holding his phone loosely in his lap.

They weren’t speaking loudly. Just low murmurs, like the world had narrowed to their little corner of it.

“I was thinking,” the girl said, her voice quiet and tired in a way that didn’t sound unhappy, “we could eat in tonight.”

The boy nodded. “I was gonna suggest the same.”

She shifted a little against him. “Something easy. Pasta, maybe?”

“Yeah. I’ll cook.”

“You sure?”

“Course I am. You’ve had a long day.”

There was a silence after that. The girl closed her eyes for a moment, and he leaned his cheek against the top of her head like it was a habit.

Noah stood off to the side, hands buried in his jacket pockets, watching them with a strange pull in his chest. Not jealousy, not really. He just wanted that kind of peace.

The kind that came with someone knowing you down to your silences. The kind that made the world feel less hard. The kind that maybe he could’ve had, if he wasn’t so stuck in this cycle of pain and penance.

He looked at the girl, her eyes half-closed, her voice barely audible as she added, “After dinner, we could watch something. That dumb anime you were talking about last week.”

“Yeah,” the boy murmured. “Whatever you want.”

And Noah couldn’t help thinking how easily that could be you and him. Back home.

In your kitchen with the lights low and soft music playing from the speaker you always forgot to turn off. The smell of something warm filling the air, maybe food, maybe just your shampoo. Your voice asking him to stay. To sit. To eat. Like it was the most natural thing ever to want him there.

Your hands moving gently, brushing through his hair without needing a reason, or ghosting over his back when you passed behind him, like you couldn’t help it.

Your breath on his shoulder as he sat on the couch, while you leaned in to ask something small, something ordinary that also felt weirdly domestic.

Did you feed Alpine? Do you want tea? Are you okay?

The clink of cutlery. The shared silence. The curve of your smile across the table when you caught him looking.

And then after, maybe a movie you’d half-watch, your legs tangled under a blanket, your head resting against him in that same way the girl’s rested now, like she was safe there. Like he was yours.

He imagined the way your laugh would shake against his chest. The way you’d fall asleep halfway through, and he’d stay awake just to listen to you breathe.

The kind of night that was quiet, but a good kind of quiet, and made him feel like he was more than everything he’d lost.

Like he was someone who could still be loved in the aftermath.

And maybe the worst part was that he knew it wasn’t a fantasy. Not entirely. It was something real, something you’d already given him little pieces of. Something that was still waiting for him if he just stopped turning away from it.

If he let himself have it.

If he believed he deserved it.

He felt so fucking stupid now.

Had it really taken only seeing one stupid happy couple on the street to make him turn around?

Yeah. Maybe it had.

Damn, you really did soften him.

Or maybe he’d always been that way, and you were just the first person who saw it in a while and made him realize him too.

The guy suddenly glanced at Noah. “Hey, you taking the 253 too? It’s always late.”

“Yeah… I was waiting for it. But now, I’m not so sure anymore.”

The guy shrugged, giving a small smile. “Well, sometimes it’s better to change plans.”

Noah slowly nodded. "Yeah, sometimes it is."

One of the voices had won.

Again, you didn’t know what to do.

Should you grab your keys and drive after him? Try to stop him before he disappeared into that world again? Should you let him go, even though the thought of it tore through you, even though you knew you’d never be able to forget him? Or maybe you should call Amber, say it out loud just once, ask her what to do, what she’d do if someone she loved looked her in the eyes and told her he was walking back into a life that had almost killed him the first time.

You walked the length of your apartment over and over, pacing the wooden floors. Your breath was shaky, your vision blurry with tears you didn’t bother to wipe away.

Noah had somehow carved out a space for himself in your life and in your heart and now...  it couldn’t end like this. You didn’t even remember when it had stopped being casual, when it had stopped being about "the guy I met at the fight club who is actually very sweet and deserves a friend".

Maybe it never was.

All you knew now was that you loved him.

And now he was gone.

You understood, at least part of it. The guilt. The grief.

But you were also mad — at the timing, at his choices, at the fact that it seemed love sometimes wasn’t enough to make someone stay.

You kept pacing, up and down. A thousand thoughts circled your mind, none of them leading anywhere.

Maybe you could go to the match. Just show up. Watch from the back. Make sure he made it through the night in one piece. You could do that. You would do that. Again and again, if it came to that. Even if he didn’t want you anymore, even if he pushed you away, you’d still be there.

Because you couldn’t not care.

You’d be the one holding her breath every time he took a hit, hoping, praying that it wouldn’t be the one that left him on the floor.

And when it was, when he’d stumble into that same cold alley after the fight, bruised and bleeding, you’d follow him. You’d kneel beside him like you did, dabbing blood from his face, steadying his trembling hands. You’d help him back to his feet, even if you weren’t the one he came home to anymore.

You were still thinking, nearly at the point of grabbing your keys and chasing after him, when something made you glance toward the window.

And you saw him.

You saw him before you even registered what it really meant.

He was sitting on the back steps, in the same spot he always chose, hunched over slightly, elbows on his knees, hands hanging between them.

At first you didn’t move. You stood by the livingroom window, not trusting your eyes. He wasn’t supposed to be here. Not this early. Not unless he hadn’t gone at all. Unless something had changed. Unless he had changed his mind.

And then it hit you.

He was here.

And this meant he really had changed his mind.

A breath escaped you, and you felt so relieved, like your lungs had been holding in every ounce of fear since the moment he walked away, and only now were letting it go. You didn’t even realize your hands were trembling as you reached for the door, didn’t feel the cold of the knob, didn’t notice the sting behind your eyes until you stepped outside.

The air was crisp, the sky was darkening, the stars just beginning to peek through. You walked quietly across the yard, your footsteps soft against the path.

He didn’t look up when you approached, but you saw the way his shoulders tensed, the way he registered your presence instantly, like his body knew you were close.

You sat down beside him without a word, your thigh brushing his.

You didn’t say anything at first, and after a long pause, he finally spoke.

“I wanted to buy you flowers,” he said, voice low, “Because nothing says ‘sorry for wanting to go back to fighting, but then realizing that the love I have for you is stronger than the need to hurt myself’... quite like flowers. But I didn’t have any money.”

You let out a soft laugh despite the lump in your throat, tears prickling at the edges of your vision. “Noah…”

He turned toward you then, “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “For everything. I didn’t know what else to do. I thought I had to go back to that life because it’s the only one I ever understood. But I was wrong.” He exhaled shakily. “I want to stay. I want to figure this out. Try to live... a normal life. With you. If you still want me.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle.

Of course you still wanted him. You always had. Since the moment you found him in that dark alley, covered in blood.

Your hands moved before your mouth could respond, one reaching up to his face, the other curling around the back of his neck. You leaned in, kissing the corner of his mouth, then his cheek. His temple. His jaw. His lips. You kissed him over and over, unable to stop, and you felt him laugh as you did.

"Of course I still want you, you dumb fuck."

He laughed again.

He leaned into it, arms finally coming around you. You just held each other, right there on the steps, under the stars, both  happy he finally understood he was really home.

After a while, when you noticed his hand was still bleeding, you got back inside as Alpine brushed herself against Noah's leg.

You flipped on the hallway light, he followed you without saying a word, his hand still held gently in yours.

You led him to the bathroom and nudged the door open with your hip. “Sit,” you said softly, nodding toward the closed lid of the toilet.

He obeyed without argument, settling onto it with a quiet groan as you flicked on the light and went straight to the cabinet under the sink. You grabbed all the things you needed, pulling out antiseptic wipes, gauze, a roll of bandage tape.

When you turned back to him, he was watching you. Quiet. His injured hand resting loosely on his thigh, dried blood crusted along the torn knuckles, swollen slightly at the base of his fingers.

You knelt in front of him, between his knees, and took the hand gently in yours.

“What the hell did you hit?” you murmured, inspecting the bruises blooming purple beneath the broken skin.

“A wall,” he said quietly.

You let out a soft huff. “Of course it was a wall.”

You stood up and reached for the antiseptic and the first wipe, your hands careful as you began cleaning the wounds. He hissed through his teeth at the sting, and your eyes flicked up to meet his.

“Sorry,” you whispered.

"It's okay. You know I'm used to it."

"Well, you don't have to be anymore now."

You dabbed away the blood, cleaned the cuts, and once the bleeding was mostly stopped, you wrapped the gauze around his knuckles with slow precision, smoothing each layer down carefully. Then, when the bandage was in place, you brought his hand up to your lips and kissed it.

Once. Then again and again.

Tiny, soft kisses along each finger, over each bruised knuckle, the pads of your lips gentle and reverent like maybe you could erase the pain with tenderness.

You wondered if your kisses could help with the damage, if not outside, at least the one still inside of him.

“I’m so mad at you,” you said softly against his skin, you both knew it wasn't really true. “You scared me. And you hurt yourself.”

“I know.”

“I love you.”

His eyes closed. His uninjured hand came up to cradle the side of your face, thumb brushing your cheek.

“I love you too,” he whispered.

You stayed like that for a while and none of you said anything else. Not right now. Because you were just glad he was here. He had come back. And maybe tomorrow things would still be hard, maybe the world wouldn’t magically fix itself, maybe he still needed time to heal, but he had chosen you and that was everything you needed him to do.

Eventually, you murmured, “What made you change your mind?”

He let out a soft breath. “Two teenagers in love.”

You just laughed, the sound muffled against his shoulder. “And all this time I thought I was the romantic one."

Tags: @anything-more-than-human @ladyveronikawrites @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @fadingangelwisp @xmads-omensx @iwasntstable @thisbicc @pathion @flowery-mess @into-the-grey @lacy1986 @tosoundlessdarkistare @stardustsirenmelody @thewrstinme @hurricanesfollowyou @ichoosetenderomens @chey-h @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @missduffsblog @pandora-08 @geminigirlfromfinland @rumoured-whispers @astronoids @im-the-fucking-king

Fresh bruises tags: @1toreyouapart @respectfulrebel @dragoncopper @overmydeadbodysblog @fear-its-beauty @xslavicprincess @concreteangel92 @super-btstrash-posts @pipidoll @pipidoll @bluehairpunklol @tktstomydwnfall @jesuisunchaton @brutallysoftmuse @acatatonicpeace @spookieolson @dontwantthemoney @renegadebirch @awkwardalex @nojoyontheburn @jaded-and-hollow-souls @milkysoop @spacec0wgirl777

[spidercoris]

SBG EP 95 FASTPASS SPOILERS

there’s so much to unpack for this episode…

1. this panel is so fucking cute i love them i hope they explode the besties ever

2. AUAAUUAUAGGGGHHHHHHHAYAUAUAGAYA BEN LOOKS HORRIFYING

3. since these phantom versions of themselves are using the same bodies that they use in the phantom dimension, would ben be hurt once the shift goes back to normal? like once they go back to their usual midnight routine will bens body in the phantom dimension still have a bullet wound in his leg?

4. logan being the one with common sense as per usual 😭😭 (also if someone dies because of this split up im calling it that taylor will somewhat blame herself since she suggested the idea)

5. a little birdy told me that tyler and aiden were gonna have some angst during the separation… could possibly be tyler totally breaking down because of his separation from taylor (red has confirmed they have separation anxiety) and then aiden has to awkwardly comfort him. OR it’s the other way around and tyler has to awkwardly comfort. i feel like tyler’s good at comforting but when it comes to aiden it’s a bit weird cause their relationship is more bickering than actually talking about feelings

6. aiden ur so funny please never die

7. i can imagine in the future whenever logan in the phantom dimension taps on aiden’s shoulder to ask him something he always gets a mini heart attack and flashbacks to that moment

“hey aiden-”

“AUAUAUAUAGHH- oh sorry haha what is it logan”

“…nevermind”

8. logan looks hella scary AND aiden looks so scared here. GOOD! yknow why? it could mean he’s slowly leaning towards wanting to live (since he’s kinda hinted at being passively suicidal). if this happened to early season 1 aiden he definitely would’ve enjoyed it more like “oh it didn’t kill me lol kinda a let down would’ve been more fun” BUTTTTTT he’s actually afraid which means he could be afraid of dying! CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT! also i’ve never seen him have that facial expression how is bro still holding that smile

9. “so… we’re running right?”

“oh yeah definitely running” please they’re so silly

[homestylehughes]

do i know you?

coffee girl: part 2

pairings: luke hughes x fem!reader

summary: y/n's first day on the job, after her encounter big spill with luke hughes. her first day's is going as expected, until she locks eyes with luke, the tension begins to unfold.

wc: 1.6k

warnings: nervous and shy reader and luke. cuteness overload, cussing. fluff? nothing too crazy yet! cliffhanger kinda AGAIN

authors note: OMG HI!! i'm so so sorry it took me forever to get this up. college is actually kicking my ass. (someone help me). ANYWAYS this chapter is more of a filler, more reader focused. we will be getting to the good stuff soon, promise!!! thank you for all of your love and support, so so thankful. like and reblog if you enjoy. as always much love.

happy reading <3

Holy shit I got the job. I got the fucking job. The job that I was late to my interview for, because I ran into cute, sweet, day ruining Luke Hughes, spilling coffee on me and now we’re here.

I'm practically skipping out of the prudential Center, a smile on my face that nothing can take off, even the split coffee on my shirt. 

I start the walk back to my apartment, with a pep in my step. opening my door, my little orange baby Moe greeting me at my feet. 

“Hi, little baby” “mommy got her job” I said to him in a whiney pet voice as I lifted him up into my arms, cradling him into my chest. God, I need more friends, I think to myself.

But none of that matters because I got my dream job, that world is on my side right now. I put Moe back on the ground after our cuddle session, picking up my bag and making my way towards the bathroom. 

I take in my state, Luke's hoodie still covering my body, his scent filling my senses. Letting out a deep sigh, I pulled off the hoodie and put it in my laundry basket. Slowly making my way to my closet, pulling on the first things I find, and plopping myself into my bed. 

My eyes began to slowly close, the events of today filling my mind as I drift off to sleep. 

—

Today is the first day of my job. I'm shitting bricks, I'm not ready for this. You can do this y/n I think to myself, this isn't anything you haven't done before. You are more than qualified for this position. You've worked with athletes before, but these are insanely attractive athletes, but most importantly Luke Hughes is one of them. Fuck…Luke Hughes. 

Im quickly pulled out of my day dream, when the elevator door dings open. Swiftly making my way to my office, my office. 

Walking into the office I call my own, seems unreal, looking around once I set the box of my things on my desk, along with setting my purse in one of the chairs in front of it. Walking around the space taking it all. 

I'm quickly pulled out of my daydream again today when I hear a man's voice behind me. 

“I'm guessing youre y/n y/l/n?” turning around quickly, to meet eyes with the nameless man standing in the doorway.

“Hi yes, I'm y/n, nice to meet you?” I say holding out my hand to the man, whose name I still haven't gotten. “Hi, it's lovely to meet you! I'm Tyler but everyone calls me Ty!” Tyler or I guess ty says, shaking my hand with a smile on his face. 

“I'm guessing you like your place?” Tyler says behind me as we both look around the office, “Yes it's great! I love it already '' I smile back at him.

“Great! Hope you're ready, to meet the team, in about… 5 minutes” he says, as he checks his watch. Oh god, in 5 minutes, i haven't even unpacked yet. Oh gosh what if they all hate me. Oh my god, Luke. Will he remember me??

“I can see everything you're thinking on your face, they're going to love you, the whole team is excited to meet you. It's not everyday we get a female athletic trainer.” Ty says to me pulling me out of my thoughts, calming me down slightly.

“Thank you, i needed that” I sigh out back to him 

“Of course, are you ready?” 

“Yes? I think” Ty chuckles in response, as we make our way out of the office. 

“I'll give you a better in depth tour than the one you've had earlier, later. Sound good?” he says from beside me, nodding my head in agreement. As we make our way through the halls of the center. 

We finally make our way to what I think is the Devils locker room, my heartbeat begins to pick up. 

“The boys finished up practice about 45 minutes ago” Ty says as he's going to open the door, his back now turned to me. “I'm going to go in first to make sure they're all dressed and somewhat put together” he chuckles out to me. 

“Okay, I'll be here,” I say before he enters the locker room. 

It feels like 30 minutes goes by, but it's actually probably only been 2. 

I see Ty head pop out, “y/n, are you ready?” 

“Yes!” NO I  want to say, but I'll keep that to myself. Taking a deep breath, I follow Ty into the locker room. 

Walking in the locker room, I instantly feel 40 pairs of eyes on me. Oh gosh this is scarier than I thought, I say to myself. 

“Gentleman, this y/n, our new athletic trainer!” Ty says gesturing to me, our eyes locking briefly, silently asking me to say something. 

“Hi guys! I'm y/n! I'm really excited to work with guys "I say, as I pause to try and think of something else to say. 

“I'm not going to lie, I'm not sure what else to say… you guys make me nervous.” I laugh nervously. The whole room erupted in chuckles. 

They found that funny? I'll take it. 

“I like her already” I hear a few players chuckle out. My nerves are finally beginning to settle, until I lock eyes with him. Luke. 

It feels like my whole world stops, as his eyes lock with mine, our eyes swimming in each other, his gaze is so strong, it's almost like he’s trying to figure out who I am. 

I'm the first to break contact. Turning around to only get pulled into a conversation with the training staff, as they quickly pulled me out of the locker room, to show me around the rest of the building. 

I can't shake the feeling of Luke's eyes on me, as they show me around. My mind is still foggy from our interaction. 

— 

My “first day” was more of a tour and getting the feel of where everything was. I was even able to get my office together. This is beginning to feel like home I think to myself. Im pulled out my thoughts when I hear a knock on my door.

“Come in!” I shout out, from my desk, my face in the paperwork I'm currently filling out, not bothering to raise my head, thinking it's one of trainers. 

“One second, just trying to do this last bit of paperwork” I say, as my pen is quickly moving across the page. 

“You're okay, take your time” says the voice that I know oh so well, the voice that's been stuck in my head for the last 4 days. 

I slowly bring my head up from my desk, my eyes slowly taking over Luke's figure, taking in his appearance. He's just as beautiful as I member

Quickly snapping out of my trance, clearing my throat “Hi Luke, did you need something?” I ask as politely and professionally as I can. 

“Do I know you from somewhere?” Luke quickly says to me.

“Um.” I am trying to figure out a way to continue this conversation.

I feel Luke's eyes run over my face for the second time today. I see his mouth slowly open, as he runs his hand over his face, letting out a sigh. 

“Oh my gosh, you're the girl I spilt her coffee on like a week ago aren't you?” 

“It's actually been four days but, yes that's me.” I say back letting out a breathlily laugh to my desk. 

“Shit, i'm so so sorry” he rambles out quickly. “Its okay, I promise, it was an accident” 

“But I made you cry, oh my gosh. You were on the way to your interview here, weren't you?”

“Yes I was, but it worked out, I still got the job,” I say, gesturing to the room around us. 

“This is so embarrassing, I'm so sorry.” Luke begins to apologize again. 

“Hey hey, i promise it's okay” i say getting up from my desk, walking around to lean up against the front, to stand in front of Luke. 

“We can start off again on a better foot if you'd like?” I say holding out my hand to him, “Hi, I’m y/n” my hand still being held out in front of him, luke's eyes look me up and before he grasps my hand finally shaking it. “Hi, I’m Luke” he says, staring my eyes. 

“It's nice to meet you” I smile out to him, as our hands drop, his touch still lingering. “You're really pretty when you smile” Luke rasps out to me.

My cheeks begin to heat with a blush, lowering my head, now looking at my feet. 

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.” 

“No, you didn't” i say suddenly “it just surprised me, that's all” 

“Good,” he says quietly, our eyes locked in a soft gaze. 

“I-I should probably get going, let you get back to work.” “Yeah of course, thank you for stopping by” I say, for some reason I don't want him to leave. 

“We’re really happy you're here y/n” luke says to me, there's something about the way Luke says my name, that makes my heart stop for a second. 

“I'm really glad, I'm here too.” 

“Have a great day” he says to me as he makes his way to the door. “You too!” I say turning back to behind my desk. 

Luke turned back once more, to take one final glance in my direction, smiling softly at me again, before closing the door behind him.

I released the breath I didn't even know I was holding out, letting my shoulder fall a little bit.

This job is going to much more difficult than i thought, and it's all because, of my stupid coffee and Luke Hughes. 

[variety-fangirl]

Neighbours / Moon Boys x fem!reader

Summary: you're the new neighbour, looking for a change of scenery and people, a fresh start. Your neighbour, Steven, is someone you find yourself trusting easily and quickly. Something about you both draws the other in, enticing each other to explore what this could mean. Yet, you have a secret about why you moved, will you feel comfortable enough to open up to him?

Warnings: 18+ NO MINORS angst but mostly fluffy, mentions of previous toxic and abusive relationship (beginning of physical abuse, manipulation, and emotional abuse), swearing, let me know if I missed anything! Will add more later as the story progresses.

Author's note: Hello! I am back with something quick and lovely that I have been working on for a while. It feels good to get slowly back in to writing 😊 College really had taken so much out of me and my joy for writing when all I was doing for 10 months straight was writing long essays, it was also nice to take these months to relax and come to terms with everything. So much has been happening 😮‍💨 But I hope I will be back more consistently now, fingers crossed! I've been mostly writing to get new and fun ideas, hoping it would entice and inspire me to write. I hope you guys enjoy anyways and feel free to ignore my rant 😅 Feedback, comments, likes and reblogs would be greatly appreciated and lets me know how I'm doing. Thank you for reading and enjoy my loves 💜

Word count: 1.9k

You huff as you place another box on the floor of your new apartment, watching the movers bring in two more. You felt thankful that you had decided to pay extra for the movers to help you bring all your belongings up, far too much to have done on your own.

There were endless stairs, and it would have taken you hours to bring it all up here yourself, especially with your new sofa, bed, and dining room set. All were bought cheaply from a friend second-hand who was more than happy to help you. She was one of the only ones you'd told where you were going, and had left your address and new number with to contact you. Everything new and different, nothing to remind you of the old life that you'd left behind.

You started unpacking the basics whilst they brought the rest up, there were still quite a few boxes because you had to buy most stuff brand new. Luckily you had hidden as much money as possible before leaving, so you had more than enough to buy what you needed. You would work on buying extras and niceties when you had spare money throughout, you'd moved far enough that you were hoping not to have to move again unless you wanted to in the future.

That was at least the hope. Not because you were forced to leave in the middle of the night terrified for your life.

You try to take a deep breath as you subconsciously rub at the scar on your neck, you are safe now. You wanted to distract yourself for as long as possible, so you sorted the boxes out where they needed to go, to their newly allocated rooms.

It would be weird to live on your own again after so long, it had been five years since you'd run away from home and four since you'd started dating and moved in with your now ex, Noah. It was a scary thought once more, to be alone. More alone now than you'd been before, at least you had your best friend, Natalie, at home. Now, she lives four hours away from your new place in London.

You made her promise to conceal your number and hide your address, you knew he'd go to her first to ask where you'd gone. She would lie, she'd always been good at it but he wasn't stupid. He knew you would have told her, you just prayed he wouldn't hurt her. You could never forgive yourself if she got hurt because of you.

She was one of the only people who meant anything to you in this world. She at least had her boyfriend, Tyler, who was like a brother to you. He would protect her, he always hated Noah for how he treated you. Tyler had hated Noah from the moment he met him, made you known of it also but you just chalked it up to a bad first impression and yet it never improved no matter how much time they spent together. It wasn't until three years in that Noah showed his true colours and by that point, it was too late. You were in deep and he was a master manipulator and narcissist, he'd played you well. He almost came between you and Nat but she wouldn't allow it, tried to make you see him for who he really was. It didn't take much convincing when the major problems started in the last year of your relationship together.

The first time he'd hit you was a year before you left him, he apologised and said he was drunk. The typical excuse and blame on anything but himself. Promised he "won't do it again", two months go by and it happens again but this time more frequently. He drank more, went out frequently, and came back later. By the six-month mark, you caught him cheating for the first time (that you knew of).

That was the moment you vowed to leave him, it was as if all the years of manipulation and abuse faded away and you came to your senses. You had to save enough though to leave, so you let Nat and Tyler know of your plans and they helped you to set everything up. It took you six months of planning and saving, and you were finally ready.

The night finally came, you waited and told him before he had a drink, that you were leaving him. He started out crying, begging you not to leave him, you didn't budge. He tried to initiate sex, but you said no and he didn't like that. That night was the worst abuse you had endured the whole of your relationship combined. He threatened you, managed to get you down on the living room floor with a knife in hand, and held it to your neck to the point of blood drawn. You sobbed, pleaded with him, said just about anything to get him to calm down. You would still leave but you would say anything to get him off you. He began slowly slicing your neck open whilst screaming that he loved you, only luckily managing to get an inch before you kicked him in the balls hard enough that he collapsed just to the side of you.

You ran to the bathroom and locked the door, terrified out of your mind. You grabbed the first aid kit to clean and patch up the gash on your neck. Having done this a few times when he threw stuff at you or pushed you into surfaces sharp enough to cut skin. You had a few scars all over your body, it wasn't pretty but you wore them proudly to signify that you were a survivor. He tried to bash down the door before leaving, yelling about going to the bar and he would 'see to you later'. You knew that would be your only open window to leave, he would be at least two hours there. You immediately called your best friend, she and Tyler came over to help you in any way they could.

You packed two suitcases of clothes and shoes, a duffel bag of prized possessions and important bits, a backpack of money and goods to sell, and quickly changed from your bloody clothes into something clean but comfortable. You grabbed the first aid kit too for your neck. Everything was packed into your car in less than an hour, saving you enough time to wipe anything important and any trace of you behind, away. You immediately booked a two-day stay at a cheap hotel an hour away on Natalie's computer for the night so you could figure out your next move. He would come looking for you the second that he realised your stuff was gone and that terrified you, he was not a man who gave up on things he wanted.

It had taken you two months to find this apartment after a lot of rejections and failed apartment searches. It had immediately caught your eye when you saw the ad for it on one of the apartment renting sites. It was perfect for your situation. Multiple floors of tenants would make it far harder to search through unless you knew which floor to look at so you could blend among your new neighbours. A locked front door that had a security number code to be allowed entry and without it you couldn't enter. Security cameras on each floor show all angles of the apartments, which each tenant has access to for their safety and peace of mind through an app you can download on your phone.

You had downloaded and gained access before you'd started moving the boxes in. You were given access a week beforehand, which helped your anxiety and tight chest to ease just an inch. You knew it would take some time for you to feel safe and be able to walk down the street without looking over your shoulder every five minutes or keep your taser on hand in your pocket with your fingers gripping it just in case. You were constantly worried and paranoid that he was watching you from around the corner like he would pop out at any moment and drag you "home".

The police had never given a fuck about you or your situation, Noah's family has money and connections, so it was always swept under the rug. Just another number, another person to suffer in silence, until one day your dead body would have turned up. They would just pretend they didn't know. A murder gone wrong, you imagine they would chalk it up to.

You take a few calming breaths whilst unpacking, listening to the footsteps and quiet chatter from the moving company men. It eased the anxiety when someone was around, it helped you to feel safer and calmer. As if, if someone was with you or near you, you could be protected from the 'big bad wolf'. You were hoping to become friendly with some or all of the neighbours on your floor, not just for safety in case something happens but also because you'd never been allowed to make new friends with your old neighbours. Noah had made sure of that.

So, you were hoping that this move would be the perfect opportunity for you to do so. You loved to bake cakes and savoury treats but hadn't been able to with Noah because he always ruined things you loved, but now he was gone you could finally pick it back up again. You were planning to bake something sweet as a gesture to introduce yourself to your neighbours, hoping it would make a good first impression.

You walked back into the open apartment that was now your own little safe haven and smiled with contentment, this was the start of a happy new beginning for you. No more fearing what mood Noah would be in that day when he woke up, no more being abused daily, no more sobbing silently into your pillow or taking an emotionally broken moment of peace to cry out your feelings in the shower after he'd hit you. Just you, your new clean apartment, and the ability to do as you please without fear.

It didn't take the movers long to bring the remainder of your boxes up between the three of them. They took off just moments ago, and now you were finally alone. It felt strange, not hearing shouting or items smashing. Just pure blissful silence in your home. Your own place to do with as you please. It felt wonderful to have freedom.

You felt tears cloud your vision as you stared out the window you'd opened when you first stepped inside the apartment, feeling the warm Summer air blow in. The overwhelming emotions of freedom and serenity hit you like a punch to the gut, a sob immediately pulled from you as you sank to the ground. You felt the year-long toll of abuse and terror that had been weighing down your shoulders finally crumble and release you while the sun flowed into the room. You fought the battle and came out victoriously on top for the first time in your life and it felt amazing.

Once the sobs quieted down and the tears had stopped, you took a moment for yourself. You opened a bottle of your favourite wine and picked up an empty glass to pour yourself a drink. You took the bottle with you as you sat back down on the floor in front of the open window, feeling the warm breeze kiss your skin gently and watched the sun in peace. It was still early in the day, you would have plenty of time to unpack later on. But for now, you just want to relax without worry for the first time in a long time.

[deathofpeaceofmiiind]

illicit affairs | twenty three

*I would suggest listening to Who are you? on repeat for this chapter...you'll see why :)*

*Ellie's POV*

“Everyone’s gone, now what?”

I looked over at Noah after the guys left to head out on their trip. The house was so quiet and I felt like I could breathe. Bryan was dropping hints of not wanting to go and staying behind to hang out but Noah practically dragged him out to the car. Between moving and having Liam for three weeks because Tyler was in Europe with his family, we hardly had any time to ourselves. Liam was with Tyler as well, so now we finally had some alone time.

“Well, we have no groceries…” I sighed, rubbing my twitching eyes. Between unpacking and emotionally preparing for Matt to show up my energy was drained. “El…” Noah walked over to me, wrapping me up in his arms. “You go sit on the couch and pick out a movie for us. I’ll go out and grab us something.” “Internet and cable guy doesn’t come until tomorrow.” I whined into his chest, causing him to softly laugh. “Use my phone as a hotspot.” He suggested as he kissed the top of my head. “I’ll be back…I love you.” I pouted as I watched him leave the house, today was too much for me. After finding a blanket in one of the million boxes around here, I plunked myself down on the couch and waited for Noah. My eyelids started to feel heavy as I got comfortable on the couch. I drifted off in a matter of seconds, sleeping off the day I had.

“Ellie, I’m back.” I woke up to Noah’s hand on my shoulder, gently waking me up. He kissed my forehead softly before I followed him into the kitchen. My mouth started to water as I saw he picked up Greek from one of our favourite restaurants, along with a case of Diet Coke. I didn’t even have to tell him what I wanted to drink, he just knew. I’ve never met a man who could let me fully shut my brain off quite like him.

We had no plates unpacked yet so we took our take out containers into the living room and ate while we watched Terrifier 2 on Noah’s iPad. People would think we were crazy for watching something this gory while we ate but it didn’t phase us at all.

“How did you get so good at this?” Halfway through the movie, Noah could feel how stressed out I was and my body wouldn’t relax. He spent the rest of the movie massaging my shoulders, neck and temples. He even volunteered to French braid my hair for me to get it out of my face. Another first for us, but damn… was it ever relaxing. My eyes closed, feeling his fingers gently run through my hair as he picked up more pieces and gently tugging it tighter with each braid he did. “May I remind you of how long my hair was?” “I remember.” I paused, remembering how I used to watch him on twitch when I was still married to Tyler. “That feels like a lifetime ago I was watching you play fall guys and losing your mind every time.” “It's insane to me that the love of my life was watching me be an idiot online." I chuckled, “I weirdly felt like I was falling for you even back then…now look at me.” His lips pressed onto my neck ever so gently after finishing up with my hair, “I’m so happy you’re here.”   I admired my surroundings, completely blessed to have what I did, “I am too.” 

“Wanna go for a swim?”

“I’d love to.” I replied as Noah helped me off the floor. 

Moments later he came down the stairs with two towels for us. I asked about swimsuits and he playfully smirked at me, insinuating that we were gonna skinny dip in our pool for the first time. Noah went to turn on some music for us and turn on our patio lights. I quickly stripped myself and jumped into the pool, hoping our poor neighbours didn’t see anything. What a way to introduce ourselves to the neighbourhood. 

As I came up for air, Noah met me in the middle of the pool, instantly wrapping his hand around my neck and kissing me desperately. My tongue grazed his teeth as I felt his hands wander, keeping us a float as we enjoyed each other’s company. I started to grow cold, but Noah wanted to swim for a little longer. I wrapped myself up in a towel while I sat at the edge of the pool watching him. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him, the way his tattoos glistened with the water, how his hair was perfectly slicked back from being wet. He was so beautiful. I still had to pinch myself to believe he was real and this was real. “Damn this pool is the perfect size.” Noah commented as he started to slowly swim towards over to me, making my heart pound in my chest as I anticipated his next move. He locked his somber eyes on me as he floated between my thighs, slowly moving them apart. 

“Noah what are you -“ 

“Shh.” He coos, kissing my inner thighs gently. “Bring yourself closer to me baby.”

Swallowing a lump in my throat, I did what he asked. He smirked as I got closer, practically hovering over the pools edge. I was met with his warm tongue and my eyes immediately rolled into the back of my head.

“Fuck, Noah, I -” 

I bit my lip to swallow my stifled moans. He brought my legs over his shoulders so he could get closer, licking my clit with the softest strokes. I laid back on the patio looking up at the sky but all I saw was the stars Noah was making me see. My body began to squirm as that all familiar feeling fluttered in my stomach as I got closer. He stayed persistent, talking me through my orgasm between breaths. My body became limp as I tried to gain my composure. Noah gently kissed between my thighs before sending me the sweetest smile. 

“I think I’m gonna love living with you.”

[thehiddenholloway]

Breaker Box Blues

Moving across the state was an exhausting process, especially since our parents had to leave for a business trip not long after, but I like the change of scenery. Tranquil mountains and sprawling forests surround our little property. Besides a handful of neighbors, we’re pretty much alone up here. So, when my brothers suggested ordering takeout, it was a somewhat surprising but welcome treat.

The doorbell rings about two hours later. David, my oldest brother, marches to the door, ready to claim our bounty. Tyler and I follow closely behind as he moves to the kitchen, stalking our brother like hungry wolves.

“I can smell it through the box,” I whisper, feeling a little deranged about my beef and broccoli.

Placing the bags on the table, David attempts to unpack when Tyler slides in front of him.

“Back, you savage,” he jokes as Tyler eagerly rummages through the bags.

“I can’t, I need it,” Tyler pants.

“Ty, if you just—” David breaks off when Tyler pulls out a box of spring rolls.

“Mine,” he hisses.

David continues unpacking the food, yet all I can do is watch in horror as Tyler stuffs his face full of spring rolls.

“These are delicious,” he moans, sending his spit flying across the table.

“Gross, Tyler,” I mutter with a grimace.

David protectively covers his freshly plated orange chicken. “Come on, man, mouth closed.”

Tyler only rolls his eyes, continuing to chomp with his mouth wide open. Disgusting.

“Ty —” he starts when the lights suddenly cut out, plunging the room into darkness.

After a moment of silence, I pipe up, “The lights must have gone out.”

“No, duh,” Tyler snarks.

Ignoring him, I get up and look out the kitchen window. Our neighbors up the road don’t seem to be affected. A quick peek through the living room blinds confirms that the neighbors down the road still have power too. Weird, I think to myself. Going back to the kitchen, I find David searching through the drawers until he triumphantly pulls out a flashlight.

 “I’m gonna go check the breaker box.”

“Cool,” Tyler deadpans, taking a bite of another spring roll. “Try not to die.”

Rolling his eyes with a scoff, David opens the back door. “I’ll try.”

“Need help?” I ask, handing him a coat.

“Nah, this should be quick. Thanks.”

I watch until he disappears behind the house before turning back to Tyler and the now empty spring roll container. “I can’t believe you ate that whole thing by yourself.”

“I can,” he says, licking his fingers, “they’re delicious.”

I settle back into my chair and continue eating the rest of my plate. About five minutes of silence, save for the brain rot on Tyler’s phone, go by when a loud crash comes from outside.

“What was that?” I ask, eyes wide as Tyler looks out the window.

“It’s probably just a raccoon, Sades,” he reassures, though there’s a hint of unease to his voice. After a beat of silence he adds, “He has been out there a while. It’s probably a good idea to go check on him.”

“Should I come?”

“No,” he says, grabbing a frying pan from the dishrack, “just stay inside.”

Barely a minute passes before I hear Tyler’s screams for help. Jumping out of my chair, I fish a spare flashlight from the junk drawer and open the door just as the screaming cuts off with a thud. Rough concrete scuffs my bare feet as I walk through the yard. A faint glow catches my eye as I turn the corner. Getting a bit closer, I discover David’s flashlight and Tyler’s pan lying in a puddle of unnaturally light blue liquid right next to an unopened breaker box. Are they really playing another one of their stupid pranks?

“Very funny,” I say sarcastically, expecting a jump scare. Instead, I’m met with eerie silence.

A chilly gust of wind hits my bare shoulders as I continued searching for my brothers. Why haven’t they come out yet?

“Guys, come on, it’s cold.”

Again, nothing.

“Whatever,” I mutter to myself, “I’m going back inside.”

Turning around, I’m met with a set of large, glowing orange eyes staring back at me.

“Guys?” I ask, hesitantly backing up. “You’re—you’re starting to scare me.”

A tall green creature slowly emerges out of the bushes. I can’t help the shriek that tears itself from my throat. I’ve seen too many horror movies to just stand here, but the back door is blocked. Come to think of it, staying in the house probably isn’t a great idea anyway. I don’t have my phone with me, so I can’t call 911. Maybe if I can get to the neighbors, they can help. Thinking fast, I throw my flashlight at the creature’s face and bolt.

Jagged rocks cut my feet as I run down the unpaved road. I really wish I had put on some shoes before leaving the house. My body desperately wants to slow down, but there’s no time to ease my aching feet. I can hear the ragged breaths, the unwavering thump-thump-thump of heavy footsteps pounding the ground behind me. The creature’s gaining far too quickly.

My anxiety explodes when a hand reaches out, firmly gripping my shirt as it shoves me to the ground. Struggling against the creature’s hold, I scream out for the neighbors.

“Help me, please!”

A sharp pinch in my neck sends my vision swimming. I catch a glimpse of the same luminescent blue I saw earlier, only this time it’s in a syringe.

“Your distress is noted.”

The creature’s monotone voice sends a chill down my spine. This is it. I’m going to be the beast’s next meal. Throwing me over its shoulder, the creature pulls out some strange device. Its words echo in my head as I fall into the void.

“I have her secured. Returning shortly.”

____________

I hear voices nearby, but I can’t make out what they’re saying. It doesn’t sound like English. Taking a chance, I hesitantly peek through an eye. To my surprise, I’m back in my house, the living room to be exact. The lights have come back on. Tyler’s passed out next to me on the couch. Davids tied up in a nearby armchair, struggling against his bonds.

The green creature is farther away, huddled in a circle with two more creatures like it. One blue, one tan. They wear black, skintight jumpsuits over their scaly, mottled skin. The vials on their belts hold an assortment of glowing liquids. Suddenly, they turn to me. Large orange eyes bore into me. Their gaunt faces made it an especially terrifying sight.

“Hello, Earthling,” the blue one says, waving at me with its three long fingers.

When I don’t respond, it gets closer. That sets me off. Scared out of my mind, I do the only thing I can think of and scream-sing the JG Wentworth jingle while I desperately try to get out of whatever is holding me. David stops his struggle to stare at me.

The blue creature, or alien I guess, lifts its hands placatingly. “I must request you cease your flailing. We do not mean to harm you.”  

The alien waits for a moment. When it’s clear I have no intention of stopping, it looks to the others. They shoot each other a few confused looks before the green one says something and pulls out another blue vial. Getting stabbed in the neck didn’t hurt any less the second time. My neck stings as the darkness drags me under.

____________

“Sadie,” a voice calls through the haze.

Tyler shoots me a lazy grin as I try to sit up with a groan. Ugh, still tied up on the couch.

“Finally,” he quips.

Blinking away the fog I get a clear view of the blue alien coming near me, knife in hand. Tyler grabs me before a shriek can leave my throat.

“Hey, it’s ok, Sadie. He’s cutting the rope. Take a breath. It’s ok.” 

Despite his reassurance, I still squeeze my eyes shut as the blade comes down. After a second, I realize nothing hurts. As I slowly open my eyes, I see that Tyler was right; the alien has sliced through the rope restraining me and is cleaning the scrapes on my face?

David meets my puzzled gaze, “We made a deal with them. They won’t abduct us in exchange for your science project.”

“My project?” I ask, extremely confused.

“It has… intrigued me,” the tan alien says slowly, completely engrossed with my reusable lava volcano.

Okay, that’s going to be a pain to redo.

“Wait, did you say they were going to abduct us?”

The green alien steps forward. “Yes. You see, the Niddrax are extremely interested in space exploration. So, when we learned of your planet, Ko'strux, Dee'grah,” he says, pointing to the tan and blue aliens respectively, “and I, Ny’sol’th, were dispatched from the mothership to retrieve specimens to study. In our excitement we failed to realize just how much distress it would cause you all, and for that I am deeply sorry.”

“We will not be taking any humans or animals back to the mothership,” Dee’grah adds, moving to bandage my feet.

“That’s a relief,” I breathe, finally letting myself relax.

“Speaking of the mothership, we need to get going. Finish up, Dee’grah. Ko'strux, get the specimen ready for transport.”

We watch as they disappear into the forest. Just as quickly as they appeared, they were gone.

“Well, that was interesting.” Tyler turns to look at David, “So, are we telling Mom and Dad about this or?” He drawls.

David sighs as he drags a hand down his face, “Definitely not.” Poor guy, tonight has aged him by about thirty years.

Ny’sol’th’s apology lingers in my mind as I eat my reheated plate. It might be my fatigue talking, but I like the aliens. Once the misunderstanding was cleared up, they weren’t so bad. After all, they did help with my injuries. Maybe we’ll meet again someday.

[fivewholeminutes]

Okay okay okay okay okay i am not okay

So. Hello hi. Time for some more pain. This bitch has finally focused enough to listen to clancy. I made 4 pages of notes, most of them are incoherent screaming, but yeah. The album made me feral and i went back to this post RIGHT AWAY to read it (i didn't want to spoil myself before!!)

AND. AND!! ALL OF THIS FITS SO MUCH, YOU GUYS. I AM YELLING. DEMAVERSE IS GOING TO BE MY ANOTHER ST-LORE MULTIVERSE PART, FOR REAL (i have 48596 different interpretations for st lyrics and this one is just added to the lot).

I am. Kissing both of your foreheads. But also. How could you do this to me.

I have some more notes, random, bc i am unable to make sense now:

"Can't change what you've done" vs "I must be someone new". There is. There is a lot to unpack here, especially connected to your interpretation of things but i am too dumb to form any words about it!!!!!!!! Vessel realising what's been going on by TMBTE and euclid being the culmination of realising it!!!!!!!

Oh god the water references. I could write a whole apart post about it. And the fucking. Islands from the Dema lore. THE GIOLENCE ISLAND, REALLY???? Gnawing the bars of my enclosure.

The whole album (clancy) is so depressing. I think it's more literal than the previous albums, which makes me think about the entire ST discography too.

"The reassuring you keep comin' around, it's tough to find good company", TYLER IS BEING VISITED BY THE APPARITION TOO, METHINKS

Oh wow, Darya's question about trash the dragon made me think now, what if it's him appearing in the dreams (biiiiig stretch here tbh, but i'm putting this here anyway)

Vignette made me think of ST too, with all the bites and peeling from the bones stuff. Idk how that would fit into the lore tho 😔

THE BIRD NOISES, GUYS. THE FUCKING. BIRD NOISES. IN TMBTE AND PALADIN STRAIT. I AM GOING TO CLIMB MY CEILING AND START EATING THE WALLS

if you'll allow me some space to share my ✨thøught✨ for the day:

obviously we see the parallels between tyler & vessel. i think they're opposite sides of the same coin. vessel gave in willingly to his adversary (sleep) and tyler was captured by his (blurryface). while vessel remains under sleep's power, tyler is constantly trying to run away. they both made music used to garner support for their adversary, yet vessel did it willingly and tyler did not. as you said, vessel yearns to sleep because that's when he's at peace, but tyler hates to sleep because that's when the bad things happen. and there's so many more but let me get to my thøught:

(come to looney town with me and imagine that sleep and blurryface are the same. sleep is the deity connected to vialism.)

clancy and vessel are two sides of the same coin. they followed the same path into dema, yet vessel gave up. never tried to escape. he allowed himself to be overtaken by the bishops. he committed to the religion, dreaming of his neon gravestone. he spreads the message they give him (he wears black body paint. come on. smearing). clancy doesn't let himself follow that same path, so he runs. vessel only fights back when he hears of clancy's triumph.

(i'm sorry i hope you enjoy my word vomit. happy timezones lovely🫶🏼)

Em darling, respectfully, I'm kissing you on the mouth and taking a nap on the deep-ass wrinkles of your galaxy brian 🧠🌌

@fivewholeminutes Alex once you hear the album please come here, because we've had some Conversations™ about the ST x TØP parallels before and I know you'll love this.

(omg this is so long I'm so sorry)

Okay but this makes so much sense? Because in Vialism, in order to reach the status of glory and ascend to so-called Paradise, you must die and become a vessel (!!!!) to the bishops, who control your body through those antlers (!!!!!!!!!!!). VESSEL IS LITERALLY A VESSEL TO THE BISHOPS. HE IS DEAD AND IN "PARADISE".

The night comes down like heaven

Of course it does! That's what Sleep aka The Bishops want you to believe you silly boy 😭 Of course the night does not belong to God, it belongs to them. That's why Clancy can't fall asleep/dream - he must stay awake so the dark doesn't take over him (ODE TO SLEEP AAAAA).

What if Vessel was also trying to escape in that car with Clancy, before he surrendered aka Ascended?? What if Clancy made it out to Voldsøy alone, but Vessel was seized by Nico and therefore never met the Banditos? That's why he never references yellow. It's always red and blue.

Maybe the gold in Chokehold and Aqua Regia is him still holding on hope that the Banditos exist, that the myths are true. But he never made it out of the car with Clancy, so of course he wouldn't have known.

But in that case, just like Clancy is special and isn't affected by the powers, maybe Vessel also has a resistance? He surrenders to Vialism, to Sleep/Blurryface, gives up his name and identity in order to reach glory and fame and spread His word (omg how is this fitting so perfectly lmao), but a part of him is still aware of it all. He isn't really dead - he is asleep.

OH OKAY WAIT. SO! We know Keon is the most compassionate Bishop right? What if Sleep isn't specifically Nico/Blurryface, but a combination of the Nine? Or possibly the force behind them?

What if Keon was the one who had Vessel under control (possibly representing the romantic/affectionate nature of Vessel and Sleep's relationship), and since Clancy stabbed him, he severed that tie and allowed Vessel to regain some control of himself? Which leads us to Take Me Back To Eden aka Vessel fighting back. Maybe Euclid is what happens after Clancy reaches Nico's tower and have that final confrontation?

I don't think we know how Clancy initially reached Dema, but I'm assuming it has to do with his past - Dema offered an alternative/solution to all the pain he felt *if* he followed their twisted propaganda.

It took a while for Clancy to see what was wrong and gather up the courage to leave, so I'll assume it's the same for Vessel. They tried to escape but Clancy met the Banditos and the rebellion, which offered him a real alternative - hope. Vessel never did so of course he succumbed to Sleep/ the Bishop's brainwashing and accepted the deal - just like you said, he did it all willingly, while Clancy/Tyler didn't.

Also - Clancy was never alone since he had the support of the Banditos, of the Torchbearer, and of Ned. Vessel had to fight all by himself 🥲. Boy's got no friends 😔 (they are as brainwashed as he is).

AND THAT'S WHY!!! That's why TMBTE ends with Euclid, a song about hope and breaking the cycle - renewal - while still mourning for the life he lead up until now in Dema/ under Sleep's influence, while Paladin Strait is all about sacrifice, about the last effort to finally reach some peace.

I have a feeling the Paladin Strait mv will end with him dying - maybe his death will bring forth the liberation of the citizens of Dema and by consequence, of Vessel.

Also! Things I find interesting but can't really fit here but please latch on them (mostly typing this so I don't forget):

Trench has a lot of snow and trees, which could fit into the "diamonds in the trees / ancient canopies" imagery. Vessel spent more time there under Sleep/Blurryface's influence

The beach!! The water!! Both of them make a lot of references to water and That Beach aka sacred shores aka where Clancy and Torchbearer emerge from aka the only way out of Trench

CHLORINE IS A NEUTRAL CHEMICAL. NOT ACID NOR ALKALINE. The one used in pools (aka Ned's pool in Chlorine) is slightly alkaline according to Google. Coincidence???? I think not.

Also in Chlorine - Tyler makes a reference to the taste of lead. Hmmmmmm there's a connection there with Granite kinda? I'm reaching BUT!!

"And I'm done dancing to alarm bells" maybe it's a reference to him being done with SAI's propaganda/distraction?

The burning car / car crash references from both.

"I'm a waking hell and the gods grow tired" -> Vessel never fully ascended as the Bishops intended which causes a lot of friction between them

Josh and ii are the same person too. ii is Vessel's Torchbearer 🥹

Look. It's late (as I type this) and you come here with that amazing brain of yours connecting dots, and I can't help but latch on to them. I feel insane just typing this all out but!!! It makes SO MUCH SENSE OMG.

I wonder how Ned and Thrash fit into the narrative 🤔

[starscelly]

I'm over here begging you. For the love of all that is holy, please talk to me about Tyler Seguin and the new dude, Mason Marchment !

anon i would LOVE to discuss tyler and mush !!!!! im very sorry this will probably be super long winded and incoherent. but u shouldve known what u signed up for with me tbh

FIRST i wanna say if ur looking for like. in depth analysis or many Moments of theirs i would very much recommend taking time to scroll through teex’s 2791 tag it is a joy and pretty thoroughly covers all of the stupidity from this season and i feel like they r like pioneering the 2791/smush insanity. that being said. allow me to talk my shit for a moment dkfsdjkfs.

i just think its Fascinating that in the past few years tyler has for sure like, turned down his usual vibe of constantly hamming it up for the camera and getting super flirty with all these guys etc etc. it is, i think, far less present these past few yrs than before. until mush got to this team lol. i feel like he’s really been brought back out of his shell (definitely also helped by the new coaching staff, his recovery from injuries, finding a new role on the team, their success etc, but) and we’re starting to see this silly tyler that we know and love again!!! the first thing i can really remember of them being particularly fun flirty and cringe together is the sandwich video (this is prolly wrong, but off the top of my head), but their chemistry has definitely been there all season. like even before we were exposed to this type of behavior, they’ve been on a line together All Season, even when they could not get a good third guy to fit on their line, deboer clearly knew there was something working between them. which like, we all saw the first few games of the season. obviously he’s correct lol. 

so they have good chemistry on the ice which is a super plus, and we’ve seen time and time again how close they are as people - mush being insane concerned about tyler’s injury, constantly saying they miss the other when they’re injured, the sandwich video, tyler “interviewing” mush with his drink, etc - and they just have a lot of casual affection for one another. but i have to say. my favorite thing is how stupid i feel for not realizing that they’d be an obvious pairing the second mush got traded here lmao. if you look at a long line of Tyler History he fits PERFECTLY. a feisty, huge, dark-haired left winger???? that is his MO, at this point (all 4 traits have applied to his like Closest or most notorious connections, but if u wanna take out “huge” we got marchy on the b’s, if u wanna talk ancient history we have tyler brown back when he was young young idk how feisty he was, but either way these are like. quintessential traits he loves). (this is a bit tyler heavy, on account of i just know more about him in general than mush, so sorry about that lol) but he very much just wants someone he can make fun of / laugh at, someone who would probably kill an opponent for him , and someone who is a huge cringe loser who will do anything to make him laugh. and mason for suuuuure checks off all those boxes and more. and if that is what we needed to bring back the silly, god bless mush, because he succeeded and Also made me adore HIM at the same time. despite all his mess and penalty minutes fjldsfklds

this is like. super long winded i am so sorry. but if there’s anything specific u wanna talk abt with these two cringefail losers Please feel free to message me or send another ask or whatever. i can’t even begin to unpack how deranged i feel abt them sometimes !!!

[sleepyseguin]

tyler seguin | in the morning

summary: morning sex. that’s literally it. (slight mention of ch*king)

please feel free to message or request here! stay safe xo rose

It’s raining when you wake up. The windows have been left open, so the fresh, clean smells seeps in, the sound of it on the roof. The curtains blow in the breeze, brushing gently against the wood of the floorboards. You roll over, the rustle of bed sheets. Tyler’s hand slips off from where it was resting on your back with your movement, but you collect it quickly, slide it back over your hip. He smells like sleep where he absentmindedly moves closer, already awake. He’s on his phone, one arm propped up on a pillow to scroll through emails. You can tell by the quick, alert movements of his eyes as he reads he’s been awake for awhile, but has stayed relatively still to let you sleep longer. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you’re always startled awake by him leaving the bed. An unconsciousness knowing of him leaving your immediate space that disturbs your REM.

 “Hey,” you say, voice still thick with sleep. Your mouth tastes slightly stale. He smiles at the sound of your voice, dropping his phone to look at you.

 “Hey,” Tyler returns, hand slipping up from your hip to your ribcage, under his big t-shirt you’ve worn to bed.

 “What time is it?” You wonder, phone lost somewhere under the pillows from where you’ve dropped it while falling asleep the night before.

 “Just after nine,” he tells you. A Sunday. Off season. He’ll train this afternoon, but for now, the morning is peaceful and stretches before you. Tyler’s fingers continue to brush a slow rhythm of your ribcage, bump, bump, over bone.

 You hum happily. Plenty of time to laze around in bed. Maybe you’ll cook eggs for the two of you later. Make coffee with too much caramel in it. For now though, the rain patters outside, and Tyler’s legs are tangled with yours under the sheets.

 “Did you dream?” He asks, slipping down from where he’s propped himself up on pillows to be more at your level.

 “Don’t remember,” you reply, it was a deep, heavy sleep. The storm must have soothed you. The stupid amount of money spent on the mattress topper was meant to find some relief for Tyler’s back, but that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy the new level of relaxations it’s brought your sleeping habits.

 “Did you?”

 “Yeah,” Tyler says, the corner of his mouth crooking up in a smile. His hand has started to linger further up your chest, the swell of your breast.

 “What did you dream?”

 “Nothing that made sense,” he muses, “Was home but with people I didn’t know, but did know, you know?”

 “Yeah, weird feeling.”

Your hips push into the hard muscle of his thigh a little bit. He smiles, and pushes back.

 “You wanna unpack that?” You ask. You read a book once, about what dreams mean, but can’t for the life of you conjure up any form of memory of what it contained. Tyler laughs.

 “I think it was just a dream.” A thumb brushes your nipple.

 “Hmm, maybe.”

Your eyelids are heavy again, content. Being slightly felt up by a smiling boy, the pressure of his leg between yours.  The rustle of the curtains. The heavy duvet. It’s natural when Tyler turns his head, leans in. The softness of his mouth, the rough of his beard on your cheeks. He kisses slow, and lazily, enjoying the moment. It’s peaceful, the way he undresses you, kissing up the line of your abdomen as he pulls his own t-shirt over your shoulders. A recognising of your body, still favouring it even after being there so many times before.

 “You smell so good in the mornings,” he mumbles into your neck, a knee between your thighs as he presses you down into the mattress, half swallowed up by downy pillows. Your fingers tangle into his hair, curls around knuckles. He smells like boy, his own skin. Something pure, instinctually drawn to it.

 Tracing your hands down his back, feeling the movement of his shoulders as he wriggles you out of underwear, tossed behind him with a wolfish grin. His own underwear have already been lost. Perhaps he never even had any on.

 Soft sounds as you hook up like teenagers. Rumpled hair. Hands that can’t find a place to settle, on jaws, shoulders, backs, bums. Your fingers slip between you, finding him hot, and hard. Velvet skin. He moans quietly into your shoulder, the relief. You move your wrist slowly, easing into it. The anticipation is heavy between your legs, throbbing. Bodies still warm and soft from sleep.

 Quiet sounds as his own hand finds you, circling, pressing. Slowly at first. The suck of his fingers into his mouth, pink lips, pinker tongue. The dirty way he smiles as they sink back into you. Crooked just right. A rhythm well practiced.

 It almost feels wrong to curse in this quiet morning, but you can’t help yourself. Eyes fluttering closed. Hand around the strong muscle of his forearm so you can feel the tendons move as he works to make you feel good. Tyler shifts, and the warmth of him against your chest is lost. You open your eyes to protest, but find him looking up at you from down the bed, one of your legs already slung over a broad shoulder. His mouth is slick, and he’s grinning, not breaking eye contact as he licks into you.

 “Ty,” you whisper, unused voice still rough. Hands in his hair, pulling, guiding. His tattoos against the bare skin of your thighs. His free hand pressing your hip down into the bed, thick fingers splayed over your tummy. The sound of his mouth. The sound of the rain. Rustle of sheets. Your own sighs, murmurs of his name, of encouragement.

 You come with his mouth on you, a leg thrown along his back. The heat of the room almost too much, relieved by the cold breeze. Tyler doesn’t let you breathe, fingers still moving inside you as you roll into him, chasing the feeling.

 “You taste so good,” he tells you, jaw moving against your thigh. Your fingers grasp at his shoulders, blushing.

 “Come here,” you ask, pretending to pull him up even though you’re both well aware you’d have no luck moving the bulk of him. He crawls up you gracefully, hard against your tummy. You angle yourself for him, wet from his mouth so that he sinks in easily. Tyler groans as he settles, curly hair in his eyes, half on his knees as he pushes deep, your legs wrapped around his waist.

 He uses one hand to brace himself on the headboard, the other cupping your head up from the pillows, half tangled in your hair as it falls out of it’s bun. The first pull out and push back in, achingly slow and carefully timed to make it as lovely as possible for both of you. It’s frustrating, how good he is at this.

 You get to watch the way his body moves in the morning light, the heaving breath in his chest, the muscles in his arms as he finds a rhythm, strong and powerful. Like a Greek God, carved from marble. His free hand slips to your breast, rough, pinching your nipple, good, so good, sogood. Tyler bows his head over you, blown pupils, watching the way he slides into you, over and over again.

 “I’m gonna come again,” you gasp, reaching up for him, feeling him drop lower, releasing the headboard to scoop you up against him, skin to skin, hot and panting.

 His hand, rubbing where he moves into you. Fingers around your throat, angling your face so he can kiss you as you come, moans swallowed up by him. He grinds out a curse, pushing harder, deeper.

 “Gonna come,” he rasps, and your hands pull at his back, his hair, sensations for him to shiver through as he drops his head into your neck, the final few desperate rocks of his body. Your name groaned against your neck, warm inside you.

 It’s still raining, harder even. It takes a second for your breath to settle, the weight of his body to become unpleasant. He seems to realise the exact moment it does, rolling to the side, pulling one of your legs with him to sling over his waist. You’ll need to clean up soon, start the day, maybe even close the windows before the house gets too cold. For now though, the rain pours.

[ilyasorokinn]

one night stand , tyler glasnow

note, much like everyone on here, i've fallen in love with this man, and i think he’s underrated and deserves more attention.  pair, tyler glasnow x reader summary, you met tyler at a bar, and got pregnant after a one night stand.  warnings, mentions of sex word count, 3007 words

(gif not mine) 

You played with your fingers as you waited for Tyler to arrive at the cafe. It was quite the cliche. You had met at a bar and had hit it off. You slept together that night, then when you woke up the next morning, he was gone. No note, no text, no voicemail, not even a freaking email.

It made you feel dirty. Yes, it was a one-night stand, but it made you feel like the night you spent together meant nothing. You were sure it meant nothing to him, but you really thought things were going great. 

Now, here you were, sitting in a cafe, waiting for the very man who left you a few weeks ago. Whenever the door opened and the bells above the door jingled, your heart sped up. 

This time, when the door opened and you saw it was Tyler, you felt like your heart was gonna beat out of your chest. He spotted you and made his way over to you. He sat down in the chair in front of you. 

“Hey.” You spoke in a shaky voice.

“Hey.” He smiled back nervously.

“I didn’t know what you wanted, so I ordered you a scone.” You offered him the plate.

“Oh, thank you.” He smiled, “So, not to be rude, what did you want to talk about?” He asked.

You took a deep breath, “Right.” You shifted in your seat, “Um,” You looked down at your hands that were beginning to shake, “I’m, uh, I’m pregnant.” You told him, finally looking up and meeting his eyes. 

You tried to gauge a reaction, but no emotion flashed across his face, “Are you sure? Is it mine?” He asked.

You didn’t take that last question personally, “I went to the doctor a few days ago, and I’m sure it’s yours. I haven't slept with anyone else since you.” You shrugged, then reached into your bag, and slid the sonogram across the table.

His mouth opened his shock. He reached forward, and grasped the photo, “It’s really there?” 

“Yeah.” You nodded, rubbing the back of your neck, “And I’m not fishing for money, I’m good. I just wanted you to know.” You told him.

“Well, I want to be in their life. I want to raise this kid.” He told you.

“You do?” You asked, straightening up in your seat.

“Yeah.” He nodded, looking from you and back to the sonogram.

“My next appointment is in a few days.” 

“I’ll be there.” He told you without a second of hesitation. 

- 

He did follow through. He showed up at the doctor’s office the day of your appointment, and almost burst into tears when he heard the baby’s heartbeat. He asked the doctor a bunch of questions.

When will we know the gender? When will it be here? How far along is she? What foods can she eat? What foods can she not eat? 

All those sorts of questions. It made you happy that he was so eager and happy to be a dad, “Would you like photos?” The doctor asked as she wrapped up the appointment.

“Yes.” Tyler immediately nodded his head. 

“Okay, I will be right back with the photos.” She smiled, before leaving the room. You turned back to face Tyler.

“Thank you for being here.” You smiled at him.

“Y/N, are you kidding? Of course, I’m gonna be here. I’m not gonna leave you to raise this kid alone. Much less, my kid.” 

- 

You were a few months along at this point, and everything with Tyler was going great. You weren't together. At this point, you were just planning on co-parenting. 

He had his house, and you had an apartment. Both of them were being equipped for the baby. You were in your apartment, unpacking a few boxes of things for the baby. 

The doorknob turned, and you looked up from the floor in the living room to see who was at the door. Tyler came barging in, take-out bags in hand, “You’re amazing.” You smiled, pushing yourself off the ground.

“I got all your favorites.” He set the dishes on the coffee table.

“Thank you.” You smiled, taking your containers, and diving into your food. You turned on the TV and watching whatever reality show was playing.

“So, any kicks?” He asked, sitting down next to you.

“Not yet. The doctor said it was normal.” You reassured him.

“You’ll let me know when they kick, right?”

“Of course I will.” You furrowed your brows together, “Just because we aren’t together doesn’t mean that I’m not gonna tell you about these things.” 

“I know.” He hangs his head in shame, “This is pretty unconventional. So, I guess I’m just wondering what we are.” 

“We aren’t anything, Tyler. We’re just two adults who made a big mistake that resulted in a baby.” You told him.

“Yeah.” He nodded, “Well, I’m glad that night happened.” 

“I am, too.” You smiled, reaching over, and squeezing his hand. 

“And now we have this little baby on the way.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your stomach. Not even a moment after Tyler pulled away, you felt a soft, yet powerful, kick. 

You gasped, “What? What is it?” Tyler panicked. Instead of answering, you grabbed his hand and placed it where the baby had just kicked. It took a second, but the baby kicked once again. Tyler gasped, his eyes widened and mouth opening in shock.

“That’s our baby.” He gasped again.

“Yeah.” You nodded, squeezing his hand. For the rest of the day, Tyler spent it talking to the baby and trying o feel it kick.

- 

Your best friend, Andrea had taken over your gender reveal party. She didn’t let you do anything. She planned everything from the party favors to the decorations to the balloon that would tell you the gender of your baby. 

On the day of the party, you got ready as if it were any other day. Tyler had been tasked with picking you up and taking you to the venue. You headed to the door, and the second you stepped through the door, Andrea and your other friend, Quinn, put a flower crown on your head and yanked you into the party.

You smiled, back at Tyler, waving goodbye as you were being pulled in the other direction. The rest of the day was filled with you drinking lots of sparkling water, lots of laughs, and lots of fun.

“Okay, okay, whenever you’re ready,” Andrea told you and Tyler. Everyone had their phones or cameras pulled out, and were filming. 

“Are you ready?” Tyler looked over at you.

“Yeah, I am.” You nodded.

“All right.” Tyler nodded, both of you holding the pins above the balloon.

“3-2-1!” Everyone counted down, and you closed your eyes as you popped the balloon. You heard all the cheers before you opened your eyes. 

You opened your eyes and looked around. You were still in a state of shock as you looked up at the blue confetti that fell around you.

“It’s a boy!” Tyler shouted, pulling you into a hug, snapping you out of your shocked state.

“A little boy.” You repeated, trying to comprehend what just happened. A smile spread across your face as you wrapped your arms around him. 

- 

Once again, Andrea and Quinn had taken over your baby shower, and wouldn’t let you lift a finger. It was just a group of your closest friends and your mother, “So, tell us, how are things with Tyler?” Your mother asked, raising her brow at you.

You shook your head, “There’s nothing to tell. We just made a big mistake, and now we’re gonna be adults and do the responsible thing.” You answered.

“Oh, come on.” Quinn rolled her eyes.

“There’s really nothing.” You insisted.

“All right, if you say.” Andrea nodded, not believing you.

You rolled your eyes, “Fine, fine.” you threw your hands up, as everyone else squealed, “I mean, I do like him. He’s great, and he took the news of me being pregnant great. Most guys would run for the hills, but he stayed.” 

“So, there is something there?” Andrea asked.

“I don’t think so. As of right now, he’s just the father of my baby.” You leaned back in your chair, taking another sip of the juice in your cup.

“Come on, Y/N. I’ve seen the way he looks at me, I’m sure we all have. It’s not in a “you’re the mother of my baby” way, it’s a, “I'm secretly in love with you, but I don't want you to know” kind of way.” Andrea explained.

“I’m sure.” You rolled your eyes.

“No, no. Quinn, have you seen it?” Quinn nodded, “Penelope?” Penelope nodded, “Ellie?”

“Okay, okay, I get it.” You nodded, cutting her off, “But, how am I supposed to blurt out that I might have feelings for him?” You asked.

“When the time is right, you’ll know.” Your mother smiled at you. You sighed and leaned back in your chair, feeling deflated. 

- 

It was a day like any other. You were almost 9 months pregnant, so your mobility was limited. The most you could do was watch from your bedroom to the living room couch, then to the kitchen and bathroom. But even then, you would be out of breath.

You were ready to get the baby out of you. Tyler was off and didn’t have any games that day, so he was off running errands. Throughout the day, you would get really bad stomach cramps. You would brush it off because they would go away so quickly.

But, around dinner time, you were in the kitchen, moving around slowly when you felt something wet trickle down your leg. You looked down, and at that moment, you knew you were probably going into labor. So, instead of panicking, you took a deep breath, and slowly, and stiffly, walked back over to the couch where your phone was located.

“Hey, what’s up?” Tyler’s laidback, carefree voice came through the other line.

“Hey, uh,” You winced in pain.

“What’s wrong?” Tyler asked.

“My, uh, my water broke.” You told him, wincing through the pain. 

“Oh, my God.” You heard rustling and crash from the other end, “Okay, okay, I’m on my way. Don't panic. I’m on my way. I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

“Okay.” You whispered and hung up. The next call would be your mother, and the two after that would be Andrea and Quinn. 

- 

After hours and hours of pain, and actual labor. But, now you were resting up in the hospital bed, watching Tyler interact with your son. Hudson Elliot Y/L/N-Glasnow was born at 5:17 AM. 

You decided to give him both of your last names because, yes he was Tyler’s son, but you weren’t married. 

You watched, with an exhausted smile on your face, as the two most important people in your life interacted. Tyler was in his own little world with Hudson, and it brought the biggest smile to your face. 

Tyler looked up from Hudson, who had fallen asleep to the sound of his father’s voice, and smiled. He carefully got up from the uncomfortable couch and made his way over to you. You scooted over a little, giving him space to sit down next to you. 

He sat down, and the two of you just stared at the baby. A comfortable silence filled the room as you watched the precious bundle of joy in Tyler’s arms, “Thank you.” He whispered.

“For what?” You looked up at him.

“For him.” 

“Well, if I remember correctly, it was a two-person job.” You joked, looking back at Hudson.

“I love you.” He blurted out, out of the blue. Your eyes widened in shock, and you looked back up at him.

“What?” You whispered.

“I love you, Y/N Y/L/N, and I have been for a while. Watching you carry Hudson, and care for him, was beautiful.” He told you.

You smiled, “I love you, too.” He smiled, leaning down, and kissing you. For the first time in a long time, things felt like they were finally falling into place. 

- 

Hudson was almost a year old, and a couple of things changed. You and Tyler moved in together into a bigger house and were now officially a couple. 

Now that he was 11 months, you and Tyler had tossed around the idea of bringing Hudson to a game. You were nervous because he was so young but knew that Tyler would do everything in his power to keep you both safe. 

So, after a few months of deliberation, the verdict was that Hudson would be going to his first-ever baseball game. You got him his own little Glasnow jersey and a little Rays hat. It was really cute, and you took enough photos to fill a one-story museum. 

You held Hudson close to your chest as you made your way up to the suite. You had brought Andrea and Quinn with you. They were excitedly chatting behind you.

You finally made it to your seats, and let out a huge sigh in relief. You set Hudson in your lap, letting him observe his surroundings. His eyes were wide as he looked around at all the TVs, and at the huge field in front of him. 

He looked over at the huge Jumbotron and watched as his father’s face came across the screen. He squealed, grabbing your attention, and speaking in his baby babble, pointed to the screen.

“Yeah, that’s daddy.” You spoke in your baby voice as Hudson continued to squeal. 

In the end, the Rays won. Andrea and Quinn had driven together, so you parted ways, promising to hang out soon as you headed down towards where Tyler’s car was parked. 

Tyler walked towards the car, his duffle bag hanging off his shoulder. When he saw you and Hudson, he picked up the pace, and dropped his bag in front of you guys, before taking Hudson from you.

“Hi, little man.” He peppered kisses around the baby’s face, causing Hudson to burst out in a fit of giggles and squeals, “Did you have fun?”

“He got a stuffed bear and ate some chocolate. He even tried a pretzel.” You told Tyler.

“A pretzel?”

“He loved it.” You ticked Hudson’s stomach.

“That’s good. He enjoyed his first-ever baseball game.” Tyler cooed.

- 

Hudson had never been to a beach. Well, he had, but he was still in your stomach. He always liked taking baths, so you were pretty confident that he would love the ocean. 

As a birthday present, you had gotten Hudson a dog. He was still pretty young and didn’t really understand dogs, but he did know that both he and Brownie, the dog, were best friends and basically inseparable. 

So, you were sitting next to Brownie, watching Tyler and Hudson play in the water. Hudson was sitting at the shoreline, giggling whenever the water would wash over him. 

“You wanna go play with them?” You looked down at Brownie, who looked back up at you with his soft chocolate brown eyes, “Let’s go play.” You got up and ran over to join your family. Brownie followed after you, and you ran towards the water. 

You sat down next to Hudson in the water, “Are you having fun, buddy?” Hudson looked up at you and gave you his toothless smile. You smiled, kissing his head, and looking up at Tyler.

“He’s having the time of his life. Don’t know how we’re gonna be able to leave.” He joked, looking back at Hudson, who was smiling brightly as the water ran over him again.

Later that day, you were sitting under the umbrella with Brownie, watching Tyler and Hudson attempt to build a sandcastle. It was more like Tyler was building, and Hudson was throwing sand. 

“We don’t throw, Hudson,” Tyler told the baby.

You watched the two with a smile, “We got lucky, didn’t we?” You looked down at Brownie, whose head was laying in your lap. 

- 

Five years had passed, and Hudson was now almost 6. You and Tyler had gotten married and had another baby. A girl named Lola Katerina Glasnow. You decided now that you were married, Lola would have only Tyler’s last name. 

You were sleeping soundly next to Tyler on a Saturday morning, totally blissfully unaware of the ruckus that would soon be interrupting your peaceful slumber. Lola and Hudson crept into their parents' rooms as quietly as they could. 

Lola stood on Tyler’s side, while Hudson stood on your side. They quietly counted down, before jumping onto the bed, startling the two of you awake. 

“Wake up, wake up, wake up!” They both sang, continuing to jump and giggle. 

You and Tyler looked at each other, then back to your children, and smiled, “What are you two doing up so early?” You asked, bringing Hudson into your arms.

“It’s Saturday.” He pointed out, “It’s waffle day.”

“Ah, right, waffles.” You nodded.

“And bacon,” Lola added.

“And bacon?” Tyler asked.

“Yeah, daddy.” She nodded.

“Who wants to help mommy make waffles?” Both kids raised their hands, “All right, to the kitchen we go.” Tyler picked up Lola, and carried her through the air, pretending she was a rocket. 

Hudson on the other than was more a cuddlier baby. He liked to be held and hugged, so you carried him to the kitchen, letting him talk to you about his dream.

You listened and also thought back to how you got to this point. It all happened after two strangers met in a bar, and had a one-night-stand. It was a long journey to get to that point, but it was one hell of an adventure. 

“Mommy, come on,” Lola shouted from the kitchen.

“We’re coming.” You turned the corner and set Hudson on the counter next to his sister. The four of you fell into conversation as you got the ingredients out, just talking and occasionally eating the fruit. 

- 

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[morganaspendragonss]

Hello 🥰 Whump fic idea :)TK lands in the hospital, again. But this time they're serious, serious injuries, he is under a respirator, he is not breathing on his own, the doctors do not give him much chance of survival, they even advise it would be the best to prepare for the worst and say goodbye, just in case. Owen calls Gwen, she's arriving the same day with Enzo and baby junior. When in the hospital they find out how it happened and that it's mostly Owen's fault (I don't know, for example, he allowed Tk to enter the unstable building to tend to the patient, or whether he made someone else angry and this person unloaded it on TK, or Owen decided to do something reckless and TK wanted to save him or it is The arson situation from 2x12 so Gwyn arrives pregnant, without a baby of course), Gwyn slaps him twice and Enzo punches him right in the nose, breaking it, for risking TK's life. Fortunately, despite the bad prognosis, TK wakes up, but after he took his sweet time being in a coma.

holly's august extravaganza day 3: the meetings for those in my wake

thanks for the prompt! i really loved writing this one though i need to confess to toning it down a little? idk but with the way it was going it didn't feel right to have enzo break owen's nose. i hope you still like it!

ao3 | 3.3k | major character injury, coma, angst with a happy ending

For years after the divorce, Gwyn came to learn that any call from Owen was almost certainly bad news.

TK got in a fight.

TK overdosed.

TK was shot, he’s in the hospital.

Over and over, until the first words out of her mouth whenever Owen’s name flashed up on her screen were, What’s wrong?

Things have been better in the three years since her time in Texas. Gwyn suspects it’s partly TK’s influence—he’s been more than enthusiastic in getting to know his baby brother, and Isaac has latched onto TK despite only seeing him in person every few months or so. But they’ve talked as well, she and Owen, and they really are doing better. They’re almost like friends now, which is why Gwyn thinks nothing of it when he calls just after she’s put Isaac to bed for the night.

“Owen, hey,” she greets. “What’s up?”

The silence she’s answered with is the first sign that something’s wrong.

The sob that follows is the second.

“Owen?” Gwyn repeats, louder this time, her heart leaping into her throat. She sits down heavily on the sofa as she waits for Owen’s response; there’s only one thing that could make him cry like that, and tears prick at Gwyn’s eyes as she imagines TK hurt again, or worse.

“Gwyn,” Owen eventually manages to gasp out, voice wrecked. “Gwyn, it’s TK. He’s… You need to get here. You need— It’s not like last time. They don’t know if he’s going to— They don’t think— It’s bad. Really bad.”

Owen breaks off, crying harder, and Gwyn claps a hand to her mouth. She remembers well how devastated he’d been when he called about the gunshot, but this a whole other level. Gwyn’s head spins with the potential implications of that and she finds her breath coming in sharp gasps, but it’s Owen’s next words that knocks it from her altogether.

“They think we should say goodbye.”

The rest of the story comes haltingly—someone got angry after his son couldn’t be saved on a call, he came to the firehouse, he attacked TK—but Gwyn barely hears it. Her boy is in the hospital again and this time…this time he might not be coming home. She can’t understand it; she spoke to him just two days ago, they made plans for he and Carlos to visit for Isaac’s birthday, and now…

“I’m so sorry, Gwyn,” Owen finishes. She feels a flash of that age-old urge to scream at him, but she fights it off, not wanting to wake Isaac.

“I’ll be on the first flight over,” she promises, then ends the call, sliding off the couch to the floor. Her phone falls from limp fingers and harsh sobs tear from her throat, muffled by the press of her fist against her mouth.

Enzo finds her there an hour later and immediately takes her in his arms, not complaining about her tears soaking his shirt. When she tells him what happened, he insists on joining her, and Gwyn allows herself to take that shred of comfort and run with it.

She thinks it’s the only comfort she’s likely to get right now.

The next flight isn’t until morning, so Gwyn spends a sleepless night packing and unpacking their suitcases and making phone calls with the firm and her clients to cancel everything for the foreseeable. She has the brief, terrible thought about whether she should pack funeral attire, which almost sends her into a panic attack as reality hits her all over again.

Enzo saves her from it, gently guiding her to bed, but not before she packs the clothes anyway.

Isaac seems to pick up on her mood when they’re hurrying out of the house, remaining mostly quiet aside from the odd question about where they’re going. He perks up considerably when he finds out they’re heading to Austin, babbling about seeing TK, and Gwyn has to blink hard to keep from crying again. Enzo reaches over to take her hand, and he barely lets go until they’re landing in Austin.

*

The entrance to the ICU looms before her, and Gwyn feels stuck. There had been a part of her, still, that had hoped to find TK miraculously awake and on the mend, like the last time she had made this trip. She doesn’t want to believe that he’s here, hurt, maybe dying.

But he is, and she’s forcefully reminded of that fact when a kind-looking nurse approaches her hesitantly.

“Ma’am? Can I help you?”

Gwyn blinks at her, her brain taking a moment to catch up. “I, um. I’m here to see my son. TK Strand.” She pauses, then shakes her head, cursing herself internally. “Tyler Kennedy Strand.”

The nurse’s entire demeanour changes, a sympathetic smile taking over her face. “This way.” She leads Gwyn through the ICU, then points at a door near the end of the corridor. “Tyler’s room is just there. I promise, we’re doing everything we can for him.”

Gwyn nods absently, her gaze stuck on the door the nurse had indicated. She walks forward slowly, the room seeming to get further and further away until, suddenly, she’s standing on the threshold, and she sees her son.

TK is barely visible, his face half-obscured by the ventilator, half by bruises, and heavy gauze covers his forehead. His arms, resting limply at his sides, are littered with scrapes, and if Gwyn squints, she can just about make out more bandages peeking out from under the hospital gown.

She’d thought that seeing him would make it all real, but she feels separate from everything somehow, only one thought going through her mind on repeat.

This is not my son.

A quiet whisper draws her attention to the figure sitting at TK’s side. Gwyn has to suppress a gasp as she takes in Carlos’s appearance; she hasn’t seen him in person since the wedding last year, and his pale face and red-rimmed eyes cut a stark contrast to that day. He hasn’t noticed her yet, wholly fixated on TK, one hand gently stroking the tufts of hair poking out above the bandage. His lips move and Gwyn knows she should walk away, but instead she finds herself leaning closer, straining to hear Carlos’s words.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he’s saying. “I know you’re fighting and I know you’re going to try as hard as you can to come back to us—believe me, Ty, I am praying every day to see those pretty green eyes of yours open again. But I—I want you to know that it’s okay if you can’t. If it gets too hard, if you need to let go, you can. I already miss you like crazy and I really, really, don’t want to live the rest of my life without you, but the thing I can’t stand more than that is the idea of you suffering.

“Come back if you can, but if someday you find you can’t, remember that I love you and we’ll be okay. I promise.”

Carlos sniffs and ducks his head to place a gentle, lingering kiss on TK’s cheekbone. It’s such a tender, intimate moment, but it quickly shatters when Carlos looks up and spots her, his eyes going wide. “Gwyn. I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you were there.”

She waves him off, willing herself to finally step into the room. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I should have said something, but I didn’t want to interrupt.”

Carlos nods, giving her a small, sad smile, which Gwyn does her best to return. She pulls up another chair and sinks into it, reaching out to take TK’s hand. She’s startled by the coolness of his skin, and more tears burn in the back of her eyes.

“What did the doctors say?” she asks, clearing her throat and twisting her body towards Carlos, though her eyes never leave TK.

“That it was a miracle he made it through surgery,” Carlos says, sighing wearily. “Eight stab wounds, too much blood loss, damage to his organs, broken ribs—that’s all bad enough, but they’re most worried about his brain. He took at least two blows to the head, and add that to the fact he wasn’t breathing for a good few minutes… They keep saying not to speculate, but we all know the odds here.”

Carlos’s voice breaks and Gwyn reaches out to comfort him, feeling sick to her stomach at the revelation. Why anyone would do this to her boy, she can’t comprehend; she finds herself both wanting answers and feeling unable to take any more.

Owen chooses that moment to appear in the doorway, looking every bit as wrecked as he sounded on the phone. “Gwyn,” he says roughly. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Carlos moves as if to give them privacy, but Gwyn shakes her head at him, cutting off his protests before he can even get them out. “You stay with him, Carlos,” she tells him. “We’ll talk in the hall.”

They head to a quiet spot not too far from TK’s room, and Gwyn turns to face Owen, holding her arms. “What the hell happened, Owen? Why is our son lying in there, not even breathing on his own?”

A flicker of a frown crosses Owen’s face. “I told you—”

“No, you didn’t.” Gwyn clenches her jaw, staring him down. “You said he’d been attacked, not that some maniac had used him as their personal punching bag.”

A few more seconds pass before Owen relents, sighing. “There was a call,” he starts, voice heavy with sorrow. “A car accident; dad and his kid were trapped inside. We got the dad out but the son was stuck pretty good. It took a long time to free him and by then it was too late—EMS did their best, but he was gone.

“The dad went ballistic, screaming at all of us, but especially at TK. We don’t really know why, but it was probably a convenience thing; TK had been the one to break the news, he was the closest person—the guy wasn’t exactly thinking clearly. He threatened him, tried to hit him—the cops had to arrest him eventually, but you know TK. He refused to press charges, said that the dad was just in shock and that he understood.”

Gwyn smiles a little at that; her son has always been too forgiving for his own good. It’s never come back to hurt him this badly before, though.

Owen pauses, throat bobbing as he seems to work up to the next part. His voice is quiet, and he seems reluctant to meet Gwyn’s eyes. “He showed up at the firehouse a week later—the dad, I mean. He said he wanted to apologise and, I swear, Gwyn, he really did seem genuine. None of us wanted to let him near TK, but ultimately it was TK’s decision. They went round the side of the house to talk; when neither of them came back after twenty minutes, we went looking.

“By that time, the guy was gone, and TK was…” He stops and shakes his head, swallowing hard. “He could barely breathe. Tommy and Nancy did what they could and they got him here quickly, but we have no idea how long he’d been like that before we found him.”

Gwyn’s head snaps up, a white-hot anger flashing through her. “I can’t believe you,” she hisses. “You left our son alone with a man who had already threatened him for twenty minutes, Owen.”

Owen frowns. “I told you, he seemed genuine. And TK—”

Gwyn can’t help it; she slaps him. “Don’t you dare,” she grounds out, crowding into Owen’s space. “Don’t you dare act like this was his fault.”

“I wasn’t—”

Her arm moves on instinct, but before she can connect again, a hand closes around her wrist. Gwyn turns to find Enzo staring at her, brow wrinkled in confusion.

“Gwyn, what’s going on?”

She shakes her head and takes a step back from Owen, freeing herself from Enzo’s grasp. “What’s going on,” she responds tightly, “is that he is part of the reason why my son is half-dead in there.”

Enzo gapes between them. “What?”

She ignores the question, needing to focus on anything else to keep her anger from overwhelming her. “What are you doing here anyway? Where’s Isaac?”

“He’s with Grace and Judd, they offered to babysit so I could come here. What—”

“Hang on,” Owen interrupts. “What is he doing here? I figured he’d stay in New York with the kid.”

“Isaac is TK’s brother, Owen,” Gwyn says, turning on him again. “And Enzo has just as much right to be here as any of us; he was more of a father to TK than you were sometimes.”

Owen’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “Him? You’re joking, right?”

Gwyn isn’t sure what happens next, who starts it, but soon they’re all yelling, insults and accusations flying around the ward. There’s a furious nurse heading their way, but before she can say anything, another voice cuts through the argument, quiet and trembling but still somehow powerful.

“Get out,” Carlos says. “All of you.”

They all turn to him, Gwyn’s lips parting in shock. Owen takes a step towards him, holding his hands out in a gesture that’s probably meant to be pacifying.

“Carlos—”

“I mean it, Owen,” he snaps, harsher than Gwyn has ever heard him before. “You all screaming at each other is the last thing any of us needs, least of all TK. The only person to blame in all this is the guy who attacked him, and he’s already in custody; he’ll get what’s coming to him. If TK—” Carlos breaks off, clenching his jaw and staring down at the floor. He closes his eyes for a moment, before breathing out shakily and looking back up at them. “If anything changes, I’ll call you, I promise. But you can’t be here right now. Go, please.”

Carlos doesn’t wait for a response before turning on his heel and going back into TK’s room, reassuming his position next to the bed. Gwyn watches him for a second, nodding when Enzo pointedly takes her elbow.

“He’s right,” she says, directed at Owen. “We should go.”

Owen glares, gearing up to argue again, but he must think better of it as he suddenly slumps, all the energy draining out of him. “Right,” he mutters. “Right.”

They file slowly out of the ICU, closely watched by the hard eyes of the nurse from before. Gwyn spares one last look before forcing herself forwards; if getting here was hard, walking away is a thousand times worse.

*

Three weeks pass with no change and, crucially, no improvement. Gwyn spends more time with Carlos than she ever has before, and she hates that it’s her son being comatose that has brought the two of them closer. A tentative peace exists between her and Owen and she knows—truly, she knows—that the attack wasn’t his fault, that there was nothing that could have stopped it.

But she can’t help but be angry that, once again, her son was seriously hurt and she wasn’t around.

She takes Isaac to see TK once, when the worst of the bruises have faded a little. She worries that he’ll be scared, and he does seem to hesitate when they reach the room; in truth, Gwyn hadn’t wanted to bring him at all, but he’d kept asking about TK and she’d found herself helpless to do anything but acquiesce.

They still haven’t told him what’s going on. No-one knows how to. All Isaac knows is that TK is a little hurt and he needs rest, and even that knowledge seems to upset him.

Once he gets used to the sight, Isaac stretches his hands out to the bed. “TK,” he says simply, looking pleadingly up at Gwyn.

She hugs him close, trying to smile for him. “TK’s asleep, sweetie,” she explains. “He needs rest.”

“When wake up?”

“I don’t know, baby. I don’t know.”

*

Three weeks pass, and the doctors start talking about options and next steps. It’s obvious what that’s code for—they want to pull the plug. They’re told to take all the time they need to discuss it but, ultimately, the decision will be Carlos’s, as TK’s husband and next of kin.

Gwyn knows what choice he’s going to make; it’s the same one she, or anyone else in his position, would make.

That doesn’t make it any easier to bear, for any of them.

Gwyn finds him in the hallway, bent over with his head in his hands. She goes over and quietly sits in the chair next to him, placing a comforting hand on his back.

There’s a long silence before Carlos sniffs and turns to her, his face the picture of devastation. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this, Gwyn,” he whispers, voice cracking. “How am I supposed to just give up on him like that?”

She shakes her head. “You’re not giving up on him, Carlos. You’re letting him go.”

“I don’t know how to do that either.”

“None of us do.”

Silence again, but this time, it’s Gwyn that breaks it first. “Listen, Carlos, I know this is hard. God knows I wish none of us were even here. But we are, and we have to do what’s best for everyone, including TK.”

“I know that,” Carlos admits. “I just don’t want to lose him.” He closes his eyes and leans into Gwyn, allowing her to wrap him in a hug. “I wish we had more time.”

Gwyn’s heart breaks all over again, and she squeezes his shaking shoulders. “We’ve got time,” she says, though she knows that’s not what he meant. “As much as you need.”

The sob she’s answered with tells her there’s not enough time in the world for Carlos to say goodbye to TK.

*

The call comes in the middle of the night. Dread pools in Gwyn’s gut as she accepts it and lifts the phone to her ear, her hands trembling.

“Owen?”

“Gwyn. TK, he—he woke up. It was only for a few seconds, but he woke up, Gwyn. The doctors said it was a miracle; they think he might actually recover.”

Gwyn gasps, a sob crawling up her throat as the news sinks in. It’s everything she’s been praying for ever since that first call, and all she can think about now is getting to TK.

“I’ll be at the hospital in fifteen,” she says. She ends the calls and raises her hands to her face, wiping away the tears beginning to fall from her eyes.

Maybe this nightmare is finally coming to an end.

*

TK is off getting tests when Gwyn arrives, but she’s finally allowed back in the room an hour later, Carlos and Owen on her heels. The ventilator has been removed, replaced by a nasal cannula, and his eyes are open—barely to slits, but Gwyn doesn’t care. TK is awake and alive, and that’s all that matters.

As soon as she’s in the chair by the bed, she reaches out for him, her touch feather-light as she strokes his cheek. “My brave boy,” she whispers wetly. “My brave, brave boy.”

TK’s head rolls on the pillow so he’s facing her and he mumbles something that’s probably meant to be a greeting, but the words jumble together and come out as gibberish.

Gwyn thinks it’s the most beautiful sound she’s ever heard.

They’ve all been briefed about the risks of brain damage and all the potential lasting consequences which could impact the rest of TK’s life. But right now, as she holds TK’s hand with Carlos on his other side and Owen at her back, Gwyn chooses to take solace in the constant rise and fall of TK’s chest and the heart monitor beeping out a steady rhythm.

There’ll be enough time for worry later; for now, her son is alive, and Gwyn can’t think of anything else that's more important.

[hockey-x-imagines]

Made to Last || Tyler Seguin Pt. 7

Note: I felt there needed to be more conflict, and not just between Tyler and the reader, this is just the start of it. I go back and forth on how I feel about it. Feedback is more than welcomed, I’m so happy you’re enjoying these posts.

Song inspo: Made to Last by Issues

Warning: Cussing, drinking, and a little violence (both male on male and a guy hitting a girl)

P.O.V: Reader

Word Count: 2987

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While you sit waiting for Jamie and Alex, the conversation you had with Jamie last night replays over and over in your head. You knew before you reached out Jamie would want to get you and Tyler back together; you really didn't think he'd would bring it up so soon. Then again, you're sitting here at LAX waiting for him after not even a week of being back in contact. You look out your window for what feels like the millionth time in the last 5 minutes, a smile takes over your face when you see the two looking for you.

"Get in losers, I want to go home," you yell hoping it's loud enough to get their attention. You start to laugh at the two grown ass men running at you, they look absolutely ridiculous.

Jamie stops at your window, "you should let me drive." He's thinking you've changed your ways when it comes to your truck.

"That answer is still no. There's still a few things that haven't and won't change," you tell him. "Nice try though." He walks around the front grumbling about being a good driver, he climbs in your passenger seat as Alex slides into the middle in the back mumbling in Russian.

"I'm pretty sure I'm starving to death," you announce pulling out of the parking lot, "is there somewhere special either of you want to eat?" Looking between your rearview mirror and Jamie, they both shake their heads no, "well, I guess In-N-Out for the win," you giggle. None of you wanted to sit down and eat, so you went through the drive through.

"I can drive so you can eat," Jamie offers.

"I can multitask, without killing any of us," you playfully snap. You feel yourself relax, as much as you trust or want to trust Jamie, you weren't able to fully believe Tyler wasn't with him until both him and Rads were in the truck.  

The drive from LA back to my cabin was spent listening to the tell you all the things that have happened with them since you left. It really didn't feel like you had been apart for as long as you were. Both of them were very hesitant to mention Tyler, which you were beyond grateful for.

As you pulled into the driveway, you heard both men gasp. Along with many others, when you told them you bought a cabin, you were sure they thought of something small. Definitely not the lodge you bought.

"Woah, this is you?" Alex asked in awe. You chuckle a little as your suspicions were confirmed.

"Yep. I take it by the looks on both of your faces and the awe in your voice Rads, you didn't expect my cabin to be this?"

"Well, I thought you bought a cabin, not a fucking lodge." Jamie looks at you for a brief moment before turning to stare at your home. You walk towards your door, thinking they were following you. You turn to see them both standing by you truck. This seems to be most people's reaction the first time they come over. Rolling your eyes you ask, "are you going to just stand there, or are you going to come in?" As you finish your sentence both of them come running at you like they had at the airport. As you open the front door, they walk in and freeze taking in the inside.

"I think I'm going to move in with you during the off season," Rads states. When it comes to him, you can never tell when he's joking or not.

"Do it. You and Makar are more than welcome, you to Jamie." Whether Rads was joking or not, you weren't. "There are three rooms upstairs you can pick from, go unpack the I can show you guys around." They both take off upstairs. Any and all worries you had about them coming to visit disappeared, it felt so natural to have them out. There was a nagging feeling that someone was missing, you kept trying to ignore.

Around 15 minutes later they came down drawing your attention from your phone. Looking at the clock it's 4:45 and you're hungry.

"So, are you going to feeds us?" Jamie teases.

"Well, I was actually under the impression that you fed yourselves," you fire back smacking Jamie's arm.

"You know that's not what I meant smartass," he chuckles, "but seriously I'm fucking hungry," he whines.

"I am to. Let's do dinner before I take you guys to the Tail." You bust out laughing at the confused expression both Rads and Jamie were sporting. Telling them what you meant crossed your mind, but you thought it would be a better surprise.

"What the hell is the Tail?" Rads asks first, the laughing you had tried so hard to contain comes right back. "Is it code for something? Do you eat the tail of something out here?" He was genuinely confused.

Once you got your laughter under control again, and were able to speak, "it's a surprise, and no I don't eat tails, I'm sure there are people who do though. Let's get going, I'm on the verge of hangary."

"Somethings will never change, will they?" Alex asked amused.

"Nope, I still refuse to let Jamie drive my truck, and I still get hangary from time to time." The three of you pile into your truck. They had planned a weeklong stay, so you figured you could show them your favorite hole in the wall places throughout the week. Tonight, you'd take them to a fancy dinner, before going to your favorite bar on the lake.

"I have to tell you a funny story," Jamie informs you as you got seated. You're not really sure where this could go, but your interest was piqued, "the morning you left, Rads had literally tackled and beat the shit out of Ty," he laughs.

"I wasn't the only one, Chubs here broke his nose," Rads adds. I laugh, to picture the 2 of them going after Tyler is a bit comical. You had a feeling they wouldn't be thrilled with his actions. You didn't think they'd get physical with him though.

"I know one if not both of you have a pitch to make on Tyler's behalf. Let's get this conversation out of the way, so we can drown my sorrows." You weren't sure if you wanted to hear what they we're going to say at all, but it would be easier to hear them out now instead of later. "Tomorrow I have a little bit of a surprise planned, before I really show you Big Bear."

"I really don't have anything to say, I just came out to see you," Rads shrugged. You weren't entirely shocked that Rads didn't have anything to say. He always seemed to stay out of people's business. You both look at Jamie waiting for him to speak.

"Well, in hurting you, he destroyed himself. Everyone that knew you while you were with him hasn't been able to forgive him. His mom and sisters are still pretty pissed at him, and the majority of the team avoids him as much as they can. He's lost it Y/N. Coach is close to pulling him from the game until he can fix his shit. He hasn't said it out loud, but we all can see it. He needs you in his life, he literally can't do anything anymore. He's partying harder than he ever did in Boston." He looks over at you trying to gauge your reaction so far. "I think you should know that Tyler ended things with that girl I had told you about. He also asked me to help him get his shit back together, and not only for him, but he also wants to fix the mess he's created with everyone including you. Tyler has a small shred of hope that you'll come back and give him a chance. I honestly think most of the people who care about both of you have that same shred of hope," oddly enough Jamie looks almost vulnerable. "I know you're not ready, but when you are, if you ever are, please come home and try to let him fix what he did." Jamie finishes. I can't lie Tyler wanting to change surprised me.

You weren't really sure what to say or how to respond. For the remainder of dinner, the banter was kept light, talking about random things. Both Alex and Jamie reached for their wallets when the bill came, but you had given the waiter your card when the three of you arrived. Neither of the men were thrilled you did that.

"Are you ready to find out what the Tail is?" You giggle driving towards the lake.

"Great, now she's going to drown us because you talked about Seguin," Rads huffed, "I'm starting to think coming with you wasn't in my best interest." You park then turn to look at him.

"It's a bar called The Tail of the Whale. I'm not going to kill two of my favorite people." The look of relief that washes over him has you thinking he was serious.  

As you make you way to the bar you were stopped by a tipsy Steven. You said a silent prayer hoping he wouldn't cause a scene. You had seen him drunk a handful of times while you were together, and he was very unpredictable.

"Y/N!" He wraps an arm around your shoulder. It wasn't clear if his action was a half ass attempt at a hug or if it was to keep him standing. "I'm so glad I ran into you," he was wasted not tipsy.

"Uh, Y/N?" Both Rads and Chubbs question you. Steven looks over your shoulder, his arm drops from your shoulder as he turns to face the men standing behind you. Here we go, that hope he wouldn't cause a scene went straight out the window.

"Who the fuck are they?" Disdain dripping from his words. "Are they the reason you left me? Are you fucking them? I didn't take you for a whore, but hey I guess you never really know a person," he accuses, "I mean it would make sense, you never let me in to your tight little pants." His hand lands on your ass. You see red, and you don't need to look over at Jamie or Rads to know they are seething. They look at you as if they were asking for permission to handle your ex. You shake your head.

"I suggest you remove your hand from my ass, before I remove it for you," you bite. "These two are basically my brothers, I would never sleep with either of them, and they feel the same about me. They also value their lives too much to try." You felt no need to explain that last bit. "I am no whore, and even if I were, I still wouldn't let you touch me. I left you for a reas-," you were cut off by the stinging in your cheek, where his hand had made contact. To say you were stunned was an understatement. You would've never thought he would be one to hit a woman, then again like he said, you really never know a person.

"Hold my teeth," you overhear Rads tell Jamie. You snap out of your thoughts. A bar fight doesn't seem like a good time.

"Keep your teeth in your mouth," Jamie tries to calm him.

"Fuck that, that bitch hit Y/N." You knew Jamie and Alex throwing hands was a bad idea, you just couldn't remember why.

"Why did the guy with the accent ask the other dude to hold his teeth?" Steven asks as if nothing happened. Both Jamie and Alex snap their heads toward him. The glares they're giving Steven you've seen several times before, typically on the ice. That thought sparks your memory. Before your able to stop either, Alex tackles Steven throwing several punches. Jamie is able to pull Rads off, only to throw a few punches himself.

You look around to realize every single person in the damn bar was crowded around and staring. The reason it was a bad idea for either of them to throw punches was coach would kill you if they got arrested.

"Rads, Chubs let's go. You both know that coach would have my ass if either of you ended up in jail after a bar fight." You pull Jamie up, he looks at you, then Steven who was now sitting hunched over.

"You don't hit a lady," Jamie spits, you were worried he was going to hit Steven again. Much to your surprise, he wraps his arm around your shoulder letting you lead the way back to your truck. "I'm sorry about that," he sighs as you pull on to the road.

"Hey, it's not your fault, I had planned on a fun night at the bar, not a bar fight." You assure him. "We can swing by the store and pick up a case of beer or something."

"I definitely need a beer after all of that," Rads chimes in. You swing by the corner store that was close to your house and pick up a 30 pack of Bud Light and a party pack of Mike's. You had never understood why you couldn't drink a normal beer without gagging. Walking into your kitchen you grab ice for both guys, you send them up to your game room. You change into a pair of sweats and cropped tank before joining them. They found some movie and had cracked a few beers.

After quite a few beers you look at Jamie, "Chubs let me see your phone," you slur. He doesn't question me; he just hands me his unlocked phone. I scroll through his contacts stopping at Tyler's. "Someone tell me no," I ask the boys.

"As much as I love him, I can't tell you no. There's a high probability that we'll regret this in the morning," Jamie replies.

"Oh so now you want to talk to me jackass?" Tyler says as he picks up the phone. As soon as he answered you put the call on speaker. Rads and Jamie both laugh at the way Tyler answered.

"Well, no not really." You answer honestly. "I just need to ask a few things. "I mean I don't need to ask, I want to ask, even though I'll probably regret my decisions later." You ramble.

"Who is this, and why do you have Jaime's phone?" He asks. You're under the impression you giggled, when the truth was it came out more as a chackle.

"Ouch, I guess you don't remember me. Anyway, my first question, seriously that fake as shit blonde skank? That's who you think could replace me? How's life? You still bored? How's hockey going? Did coach really threaten to pull you from the game? How does it feel to lose everything?" The other end of the phone is quiet. "Hello, you still there?" I ask.

"Y/N?" my name falling off his lips more like a question, not a statement.

"It doesn't matter who I am. Answer the damn questions." Even though you're drunk, the way you answered his question sounded idiotic to you. "Yea, it's me Tyler," your voice a whisper.

"Well, she was fun, but no, she could ever replace you. No one could replace you. My life fucking sucks, I was never bored in the first place, I can't play to save my life, if I'm not careful coach is going to pull me. It fucking sucks, I can't breathe without you. I love you more than anything. Please come home and let me fix this." He pleas. You thought that maybe if you heard that he was actually miserable you'd feel better. That train of thought didn't make much sense, but it didn't work. Zoned out, you accidently request facetime. His face covers the screen immediately.

"You look like shit dude," I blurt out. Did he really, no. You were fairly certain it was impossible for Tyler to look like shit.

"Oh, we forgot to mention that," Rads laughs in the background. Jamie punches him in the arm, "ow that hurt Chubs," he wines.

"Where are you, and did I just hear Rads?" He looks confused, "and what happened to your cheek?" You hadn't looked in the mirror after Steven hit you, you immediately get up and walk over to the small bathroom to look. There was a bruise starting to form. Lovely.

"Well, I'm in my cabin in the woods, yea he's here to," you shrug, "not that you need to know, but my ex was wasted and hit me. I think you deserve to know that you broke me, and I should hate you for it I really should, but I don't think I could ever hate you. I don't even know why I called you, this was a bad idea. Don't be mad at them, they were trying to help you," you hang up the phone. You get up to hand the phone back to Jamie and he pulls you into a hug.

"I miss him. If he really loved me like you've said, how could he destroy me?" I cry. What a great night. Bar fight followed with a stupid idea to call Tyler. "Guys, I'm sorry this night turn into a shit show. I really wanted it to be a fun easy night." You start to cry a little harder.

"He's a fucking moron," Rads growls.

"I don't think he knew what he was saying, but I know he wished he could take what he said back as soon as he knew he said it. Tonight, was a blast," Jamie lies trying to make you feel better. Him lying didn't help much, but you gave him an A for effort.

[luvspence]

roommates (IV)

spencer reid x reader

synopsis: roomates roomates you know the drill

word count: 1.3k 

masterlist 

more roommate fluff -> I, II, III

———

lily

you were a dog person

cats gave you allergies, and you always thought they were mean

but spencer

loved cats

every time you two would pass by the animal shelter on the way to the grocery store

“y/n please!!!! please let’s go in!!! i just wanna look”

you could never say no to him so often you followed him into the shelter, watching as he waved to every cat

on one of these occasions spencer was reading the summary of a little gray cat named lily

“lily is a mellow kitty with a lot of love to give! she loves to cuddle next to you and fall asleep on your lap. she ha-“

he was cut off my the shelter employee

“saying hi to lily? i love her. unfortunately we have to put her down tomorrow”

“WHAT” spencer nearly passed out at the idea of killing this little kitty

“yeah, she has a respiratory condition, so if she doesn’t get adopted today we have to put her down”

spencer looked at you with pleading eyes

with “please let’s save this cat” eyes

with “i’ll literally buy you all the allergy medicine” eyes

you looked at him, then the cat, then him again

you couldn’t say no

you nodded your head and before you knew it you were walking down the street, lily in a carrier in spencers hand

“this is so great”

spencer was rambling on and on

“you know you’re gonna love her, just take an antihistamine and you’ll be fine”

you sighed and looked at him and the cat

you crouched down to lily, gave her a pet on the head

she reciprocated by scratching your arm and sending you into a sneezing attack

you looked at spencer, eyes watering from the allergies, runny nose and all

“your lucky i love you spence, because this cat will be the death of me”

———-

sos!

“he’s kinda werid y/n...”

“says the man who just knows the surface area of every major lake in america”

spencer was sitting on the floor of the bathroom while you go ready for your date

“okay,,,, he’s a little strange, that’s why we’re having our date here!, so you can help me if need be”

“still, this idea doesn’t sit right with me”

it actually didn’t matter who the guy was

it could’ve been the most perfect guy in the world and it still wouldn’t sit right with spencer

because in his eyes, no one way right for you, no one was good enough for you

and he wrote that off as being “overprotective” when he really just just jealous

you finished curling your hair and turned to him

“how do i look?”

he stared at you in the bathroom of the apartment, you were dressed casually, but you put up your hair into one of those little bungee cord hair ties that spencer adored. as well as a fun patterned grandma sweater that you two found together at the thrift store

“b-beatiful, in the truest form y/n”

you gave him a smile

“aweee! you’re gonna make me blush”

you headed out the bathroom to set up

“wish me luck! and i’ll call sos if need be”

“okay! have fun”

—-

the entire night spencer would practically hear your uncomfortableness from his room

how often your date crack a joke and you’d awkwardly laugh, or you’d talk about something your passionate about and he’d make an insensitive joke

spencer decided it was time to try and intervene, he walked out into the kitchen and saw you doing dishes

“oh tyler this is my roommate, spencer”

“why hello there spencer! isn’t he a handsome fellow, if you have him why did you even bother inviting me over”

you gave him a half smile and spencer stood next to you while you washed dishes

you and spencer both were fluent in american sign language

so you signed

“ S O S “

in the sink to get the message across

spencer nodded

tyler was asking spencer “so how do you contain yourself while living with someone that looks like that!”

spencer gave him a look, he was clearly creepy and you were visibly uncomfortable

right when tyler was about to open his mouth spencer said

“oh i’m sorry, i’m getting a phone call”

he picked up the phone

“hello?

oh hi

right now??

okay okay i’ll tell her

okay thanks so much hotch”

he turned around and looked at you

“look tyler, that was our unit chief and we’re getting called in on an emergency case”

“oh damn! they need both of you?”

you stepped out of the kitchen

“yup, the whole team, i just got the text from penelope”

“aw rats! well i guess i could walk you guys down then?”

you and spencer looked at each other, you both knew there was no case

“y-yeah let’s go”

you grabbed your coat and spencer grabbed his keys

tyler made conversation with himself while you and spencer scurried down the stairs

“well, y/n i had a lot of fun tonight, call me?”

“yeah... for sure”

he went in fir a kiss but before he could open his eyes you and spencer were driving down the road

“oh. my. god.”

spencer just laughed

“i can’t believe that just happens to me”

“i told you so!”

“oh my god! i’ve got to listen to you more often”

“indeed, now we have to drive to the bau in case this creep is going in the same direction”

you sighed and looked back, thankfully he wasn’t there, but you didn’t mind making the drive with spencer

“thank you spence thank you”

“anytime y/n”

———

one bed 😱

{this is cheesy but it’s a classic}

“cimex lectularius, more commonly known as the bed bug. usually feeding on human blood, their bites have usually an allergic affec-“

“spencer, can you just hold your end”

you and spencer were dispensing of your bed bug ridden mattress

“ugh! this is so gross spence”

you said as you lowered the mattress into the dumpster

“i hate this”

——

later that night you were packing a bag

“hey where are you going?”

“pens, she’s letting me sleep on her couch until my new mattress comes”

spencer’s face went sad, he hated when you left

“we have a couch here!”

“it’s too small”

“y/n... penelopes is all the way other other side of town, and i don’t want you driving their all by yourself “

you sighed

“jeez you sound like my mother, and spence a girls gotta sleep somewhere”

spencer looked at his bed then you

“i have a bed”

“spencer you sleep in that bed”

“yeah but it’s a big bed! and i don’t mind! and wouldn’t you rather be at home with all your stuff?”

you looked around for a second

“are you sure?”

“yeah i’m sure”

“thank you spence”

you said as you started to unpack your bag

you worked at the computer until around midnight when you decided it was time to head to bed, you found spencer awkwardly curled up on the left side

you crawled into bed trying to take up as little room as possible on the right edge

spencer flipped onto his side

“y/n you’re about to fall off the bed”

you pretended to not hear him and before you knew it he wrapped his arms around your torso and pulled you the center of the bed

“well hello there”

“hi spence”

you two laid there next to each other for a while, so badly wanting to be closer but also not wanting to violate any boundaries

“hey y/n?”

“yeah?”

“are you cold?”

you lied

“kind of”

“me too, here is it okay if i come closer?”

“yeah of course”

he scooted up next to you, and you slumped into his chest a little, until you eventually drifted off

[nikatyler]

OC Questions: 5, 14, 23, 32, 41

5. If you could make only one of your OCs popular/known, who would it be?

Oh, this is hard. From the ones who get posted on this blog frequently, I'd probably choose either Tyler or Ross. I actually hope these two are the ones people think of when they see my username haha :D Also Caleb, but I feel like on first sight he's not as interesting as the other two and he's kind of destined to be the underrated one. But if I had to choose from all the characters I have, I'd have to go with Diana, the protagonist of my nonsims vampire story that I've been working on since 2014. It would be a dream come true to have that published one day, so it kinda makes sense that I would want her to be the popular one.

14. Introduce an OC with a tragic backstory

He's not exactly my OC (though I like to say that ea provided the face and I made the whole character because there's not much to work with) but I made Caleb Vatore's backstory pretty sad. His father got lost at sea centuries ago (I think I made Caleb like 300 years old in the beginning of NSB? That was a bit too much, I should've gone with less, but yeah if we go with that, his father died approximately 3 centuries ago).

Then when Caleb and Lilith became vampires and joined this vampire clan, the other vampires bullied him because he wasn't always the amazing strong vampire who's able to kick Grim Reaper's ass (ah what a time that was!), he was clumsy and weak and really just a good target for bullying. He wishes he could forget those times.

Then he had this tragic romance with Jillian. He loved her a lot, she wanted to be turned into a vampire, he said no because he had this whole idea of "it's not worth it, you deserve to live a full human life". And then she actually died pretty young and Caleb didn't take it well. And then up until he and Ross became a thing romantically, he kind of just swore off any kind of love and I guess I could say he was miserable and in a really dark place for over a century.

And yes I apparently made both Calebs a depressed mess, I don't know why but it just happened

23. Introduce OC that has changed from your first idea concerning what the character would be like?

I know this will sound like I'm too lazy to come up with a creative answer but Ross. He went from being just some spoiled jerk who cares about no one (but one person but even treats that one person selfishly) to...I don't even know, but I think about his personality and how he thinks and feels and how he's changed...a lot. It's not even a joke when I say he keeps me up at night because he does lol :D Sometimes.

It doesn't really come through here, sims is not the best medium for deep complex storytelling, at least for me, and the way I usually present myself here doesn't really allow for anything too deep either, but there's just. So much to unpack. He's such an important character to me, and he's grown so much from being just some spoiled jerk. Now even when I look at the part where he's just some spoiled jerk, I see so much more than there was originally. I wish I had time to straight up write a novel about him, that way I could really show what I mean.

32. Which one of your OCs would be the most suitable horror game protagonist and why?

I don't play horror games so I'm not really sure. Bianca could be fun, I think?

41. Has anyone drawn fanart of your OCs? If yes, maybe show a picture or two here (remember sources & permissions!)

My old simblr friend who isn't here anymore drew Miracle for me once when I was having a bad day. We weren't even talking at that point, I think? We were just mutuals back then. That was so awesome and unexpected. I think I have the picture somewhere on my phone still. I miss you, friend, by the way. Not sure if you'll read this but I do.

And then when gen 2 of NSB was ending and Ross and Caleb got married, someone drew them, I'm not sure who it was, I can't check right now and I don't want to @ the wrong person haha (I'm like 95 % sure but...anxiety) but that was great!

Honestly I wish I wasn't always worried about having enough money left in my account. I would comission people all the time. I wish I could get people to draw my OCs haha. With that being said my birthday is in six seven weeks or so. Not giving you guys any ideas or anything.

Anyway, thanks for the ask! It was nice to talk so much, I haven't had a chance for that lately. ♥