#things in my brain just clicked finally and everything makes sense now

[mooremars]

I can't sleep so I'm doing some reading and had a realization.

Now that my media consumption has become dominated by all the Arthurian legend stuff I have managed to avoid up until now, it turns out that more I read and watch, the more I become completely convinced that removing magic is actually the only way to make specifically Arthur's character work in Camelot for me. I already thought it was the right call for story and thematic reasons but turns out it also solves the mystery of why I keep hating this character that by every metric I should really love.

[calypsocolada]

RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME | g. tomioka

(this is part two! click here for part one)

synopsis: you left without saying goodbye, giyu needs to know why... author's note: hellllooooo. the reaction to part one of this story was incredible. i cannot thank any of you enough for your kind words seriously. this one is for all of you <3 (psst... to all the swifites, if you can point out two other song references besides rwylm you get a gold star) cw: ANGST (lol like there wasn't enough in the first part), blood, gore, spoilers about rengoku, HAPPY ENDING, not proofread wc: 4.2k

click here for my masterlist

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There was nothing more frustrating than lack of communication. As much as he wished he could read your mind, as much as he begged and pleaded to deaf ears you were just one hard shell to fully crack open. Though Giyu supposed he was probably the same. But at least he was making an effort. He thought you’d make one too. 

But as Giyu sat cross legged at a Hashira meeting he could meet all their eyes but yours. You didn’t spare him a glance like you spared him your time those few weeks ago. Almost a month and a half now and for some reason Giyu couldn’t stop counting the days, the hours and minutes. 

45 days since you knocked at his door. 

1,080 hours since you grabbed him, your cheeks wet as you pressed your lips to his. 

64,800 minutes since Giyu woke up in the morning to an empty bed. 

It never got easier. Each day was like this stabbing pain in his chest. A persistent feeling of desertion. He’d thought things had changed since that night. The night you cried and cried and kissed and kissed. 

He wrote you letter after letter but no response. Now here you were in the same room, in a room filled with others but Giyu only felt your presence. Like a heightened sense that haunted him so stunningly that he wondered if your lack of attention would actually kill him. As if he overdosed on it once and now he’d never be able to wean himself off you.  

You were so close, only maybe three feet from him but you felt worlds away. Could he have done something wrong? Showed too many of his cards too soon? Scared you off? Sure you reciprocated his kisses, in fact you were the initiator. But when it came to a verbal confession there was nothing for Giyu to latch onto. No words, just your actions. But your actions betrayed you. You treated him as if that night never even happened. For 45 days. It was like torture. To want something so badly, to have it for a fleeting moment then lose it. Giyu was losing it.  

“Mr. Tomioka?” Your voice was like a shot of ice through his veins. Giyu blinked the fogginess from his brain and cleared his throat. Your attention was on him. The room is empty. Giyu hadn’t noticed the meeting had ended. Didn’t notice everyone leaving. 

“Hmm?” He forced out, his eyes sliding to yours. Mr. Tomioka? Even before everything you called him Giyu. But now… you addressed him as though he was some stranger. A room alone, a room with you. He could say what was on his mind finally. 

“Did you pay attention in the meeting?” You asked. Giyu stared at you. You were looking at him. After 45 days of starving for your attention he found himself unable to act normally with it on him now. 

“Hmm…? Oh! Uh— yes…” Giyu stuttered out, feeling hopelessly useless. Feeling utterly ridiculous. 

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow.” You said coldly, turning to leave. 

“Wait-“ Giyu stepped forwards. Tomorrow? What was tomorrow? A talk? An explanation for your icy treatment? You turned, threw him a look over your shoulder. It was like you read his confusion. As if you knew he paid zero attention in the meeting. 

“The training grounds near your house. We’ll meet at sunrise.” You said and then your eyes lingered a second before you turned and left. Giyu found himself stuck still even a couple minutes after you left. Like his legs had forgotten their purpose. In fact, those 45 days he’d been right where you left him. A hopeless, nearly broken man. Stuck back in the time he had you. Haunting his house and his training grounds and everywhere he stood. You seemed to have moved on, seemed to maybe have even forgotten about the fleeting moment. Was that all it was to you? A fleeting moment? Maybe even a severe lapse of judgment? Something like that couldn’t have been a declaration of love. Giyu could and had been thinking himself in circles. He wished he said more. Wished he said less. Ran through everything over and over. Replayed it so often the record was starting to skip.    

Giyu tossed and turned all night. He didn’t sleep even a wink. You wanted to talk. Maybe explain things. Giyu knew whatever it was that kept you so far from him he was willing to work through to find a solution. He was willing to crumble your walls. Or wait. If you’d just verbally ask him to wait he’d pause his life forever for you. He’d become a ghost. Time could come and go on for everybody else but he’d wait diligently for you. He’d wait like the moon and chase after you like the sun. If only you’d just give him a damn reason. 

Giyu turned, the moon shining through a crack in his curtains. His eyes drifted to the empty spaces beside him. The same space he’d left empty since you vacated it. With splayed fingers he touched the spot of his bed and willed himself to remember that night. As if he’d ever forget it in the first place. He was restless so he moved out of bed and to his desk. He pulled out a few letters. Some from Rengoku and some from Kagaya. Both with the same topic. Giyus favorite topic. You. 

Giyu carefully slid open the first letter he ever received from Rengoku. He felt a pang just merely looking at the older man’s handwriting. All jagged and loud. He smiled as he reread its contents. 

-

Good morning Mr. Tomioka!

I was shocked to see you had written to me but pleasantly surprised! I am doing well, how’re you? I heard you are well on your way to becoming the next water hashira! How exciting! I know we’ve only met a few times but you have the demeanor of a water hashira. You seem cool and collected! You have a calm voice and although it’s hard to hear you sometimes I still appreciated our talks! About your interest in my tsuguko; she is doing well. She is very fiery. I could see her becoming the next fire Hashira. She sort of reminds me of you in the way she speaks. Though sometimes I can get her to raise her voice and it’s quite adorable. It would be lovely if you visited her. I’m sure she’d love to see you again after you saved her life. But if you’re too busy that is fine, I can always just write you with updates about her. Maybe I can even try and get her to write you a letter sometime! Anyways, Mr. Tomioka, hope this letter finds you well! 

With regards, Kyojuro Rengoku

-

Giyu laughed at the ink splotch on the paper next to Rengoku’s name. It was a common theme in his letters. Probably wrote sort of hard. Giyu carefully closed the letter and opened the last letter Rengoku ever wrote. 

-

Good morning Mr. Tomioka! 

Congratulations on becoming the water Hashira! The other hashira’s seemed sort of bummed you weren’t able to make it to the little celebration but I knew that kind of thing just isn’t your style so I decided to write you this letter instead. I knew you had a fiery streak somewhere in you! We all do! I have a mission coming up and saw that you have one too! I would like for you to let my tsuguko accompany you on your mission! I think she could use a bit of quiet in her life. She’s always go go go! Just like me! But I think you two could get along very very well, Mr. Tomioka! I think she thinks of you fondly. I once asked her about the boy who saved her and I am pretty sure she blushed! Ha-ha! Don’t be disheartened by her cold attitude, as long as she doesn’t verbally attack you that means you might be in her good graces! She’s come a long way, I see sparks of softness in her that I hope you’ll appreciate. She loves miso soup and sweet potatoes, she gets it from me! She loves to read and can’t get enough of the ocean so be sure after your mission to take her swimming. It could be a date! You think I don’t know why you often write asking me about her, right? I’ll pretend I don’t! She’s not much of a talker like you but she listens and remembers everything you say. That mind’s like a steel trap! Please take care of her and I’ll tell her to play nice though I’m not sure she knows how to! Ha-ha! Only kidding. Be safe, Mr. Tomioka and good luck on your first mission as a Hashira! 

With regards, Kyojuro Rengoku

-

Giyu still blushes as he reads the letter. Rengoku knew Giyu’s intentions even though he was sure he was being discreet. He carefully folded the letter back up and as he did a hint of the rising sun peaked its way through his curtains. He sprung up from his seat. He couldn’t be late in meeting with you so he hurriedly got dressed and tumbled his way out of his home. He rounded the corner to the training field and stopped dead in his tracks. 

You were there. 

You were actually there. 

Your sword clutched tightly in your hand as you swung it to and fro, practicing against a ghostly opponent. Giyu watched you. He blinked for a moment and saw Rengoku, in the way you swung your sword, the way you moved, the way your haori flew behind you, like flames licking the air. Rengoku taught you everything you knew and you applied his fighting style with grace and ease. Giyu honestly had never seen you in a battle. And his breath halted as he watched the confidence in your demeanor. Watched the sure way you’d swing, the velocity and speed. The preciseness. You were definitely Rengoku’s tsuguko. In fact, maybe you were even more than that. Almost like his shadow, his predecessor. And you held that title with grace. Giyu almost felt choked up knowing damn well Rengoku was more than proud of you. 

“Just gonna stand there all day?” You asked, your swing coming through to slice clean through a practice dummy. One half falling to the dirt, kicking up dust. Giyu found himself unable to speak once again as you turned. That attention too much to bear. You hiked up your brow and pointed your sword in his direction. “Well, are you ready to spar?”

“Spar?” Giyu echoed as you nodded your head, walking like a predator towards him.

“Where’s your sword?”

“That’s why you’re here?”

“Why else would I be?” You asked, eyes daring him to mention things you clearly wanted to forget. Giyu blinked through the breaking of his heart. He’d never felt pain like this. Never knew someone could ignite such warmth then douse it in icy cold water. He never thought you of all people would stab him clean through. Giyu turned just as his emotions were too much to hide. He walked and grabbed his sword, waited a moment to try and gather his composure before returning back a few feet from you. 

There was something in your eyes. He knew this sight was probably the last thing every single demon that had crossed you had seen for themselves. Eyes like fire, you morphed in front of his eyes into the flames that danced with your techniques. 

You took the first swing, your movement like the flickering. Your strikes felt hot, as if his skin would sear completely off. Giyu controlled his feelings, he pushed them to the side and met your violence of fire with the calmness of water. Metal clanged, and although you’d killed him moments ago with your words you brought him straight back to life with the way you fought. You’d found yet another thing for him to fall in love with. 

Damn you. 

After several minutes passed and one final swing you both stepped back. It was clear it was a draw. Not a single time did someone pull ahead and leave the other in the dust. Each strike was met with an equal block. You two were an equal match. For a moment you two just stared at each other, dripping in sweat, the sun and heat finally rising. You reached up and wiped your forehead with the back of your arm and sighed.

“So it’s a draw.” You said and Giyu nodded his head. A silent moment passed before you pulled your eyes from his and walked to your stuff. Giyu watched. Watched you pack up your things and give a halfhearted wave to him as you walked back towards the road.

“That’s it?” Giyu called out suddenly. He swore he saw you flinch.

“Either Obanai or Shinazugawa will be here tomorrow for the same match.” You called over your shoulder. The cold shoulder you’d given him for so long. 46 days now. 

“That’s not what I meant.” Giyu took a step but you resumed walking. “What did I do?”

“Have a good day, Mr. Tomioka.” You said and the moment you were out of sight Giyu tore off after you. 

-

46 days ago you’d been laying next to Giyu Tomioka. You’d woke up early and in the morning light you could see his face again. He looked at peace as he slept beside you, his arms around you, his breathing light. You reached across the small expanse between you two and tucked his raven black hair out of his face. Giyu moved barely in his sleep and you yanked your hand away, shy as though he’d catch you admiring him. As though you hadn’t just spent the night together. Once he settled you gazed at him. Something, you knew what it was now, bloomed in your chest. Was this something you could truly have? To kill demons and go home to someone like him at the end of the day? Home… what would that even be like? What would that even look like for you? Slowly you sat up in his bed, covers falling from your shoulders, pooling at your torso. 

Everyone you had ever loved died horribly. You felt as though a curse was placed upon you. Penance for the deaths of your family.

Ever since Rengoku had died there was this thought that haunted you. A sort of prophecy you felt had cursed your very being. No matter how many times you thought about leaving Rengoku there was no way to ever go back and board that train with him. No way to deny his request and maybe even save his life. Would you have been useful or would you have been a hindrance? Would your presence have even changed a thing or were you just destined to love and lose? Your eyes flicked to Giyu, face barely illuminated by the sun rising. 

If you stayed in this bed would you watch him die as well? Just the thought made you physically sick to the stomach. You felt like a kid stuffed into a hiding place all over again. A helpless, useless kid.

If you let yourself love him and be with him, the pain of losing him might actually do you in for good. And if you left right now… would that save his life from the curse placed upon you? 

Turns out you're quite self sabotaging after all. And by morning you slipped out of his house, tearing back towards the inn, running with your tail between your legs.

-

“Do I not deserve an explanation?” Giyu called out to you, you'd almost made it to the end of his house. You paused, turning.

“Leave it.” You answered lethargically. 

“Did you even read my letters?”

“What letters?” You asked and when your eyes found his face the utter pain on it made your stomach drop. 

“I wrote to you… many times. Your crow should’ve delivered it to you.” Giyu explained, his face utterly disheartened. You glanced at your crow, who’d been curiously pecking at some bugs in the distance.

“I never received them.” You answered and clenched your jaw. You deserved to see him hurt. The pain you caused him was something you wouldn’t let yourself look away from this time. Giyu haori swayed slightly in the wind, he couldn’t meet your eyes. 

“Tell me what to do.” Giyu says and you blink at him, your brows furrowing. 

“What?”

“I’ll wait. I’ll let dust collect over my life until you wish to have me back.” 

“I don't want that.” You said with a start. You clench your jaw, forcing yourself back into some composure. “I want you… to… go on ahead.” Slowly Giyu raises his eyes to meet yours. 

“What do you mean?”

“I could never feel the same way you feel for me. So I want you to move on.” You said and kept your eyes glued to him as you said it. You didn’t let one smallest ounce of pain show on your face.

“Why?”

 “Because I’m not worth dying over.”

“I’m not worth dying over, Master!” You screamed, pain coursing through you. You watched Rengoku surpass his limits, a demon pushing him far past them. The same demon that had gotten the jump on you moments ago. The man couldn’t hear you. You stumbled forwards, blood dripping from a wound somewhere on your head, the blood getting in your eyes. You stumbled, losing your footing, your sword clattering against the stones out of your grip. “Rengoku, please! Run while you still can!” You screamed, coughing up blood as you crawled towards the fight. Your breathing labored, black ink splotched in your vision. Take me! You thought hopelessly, take me and not him! 

“Y/n? Come on, kid, wake up.” You blinked awake. Your entire body ached, drowsiness threatening to take hold of you. Where were you just now? You must’ve passed out from the pain. “Ah, there she is.” A blurry redness kneeled beside you as you blinked until you could see properly. “You’re awake.”

“Master?” You coughed as Rengoku smiled down at you. 

“Tough battle, huh? You did great out there kid.” Rengoku said proudly. “You mastered a few of those moves I taught you, it was incredible.” He recounts.

“I-- lost.”

“Hush now. That demon was even tough for me to kill. You did the best you could.” He says reaching for you, ruffling your hair.

“Y-you almost died,” You choked out, Rengoku’s hand paused on your head. “I-- Master I don’t ever want to be a burden to you.”

“You are no such thing.” Rengoku admonishes, giving your cheek a sharp and playfully pinch. You gasp in surprise, rubbing your cheek. “You think too dark sometimes, kid.”

“But-- Master… I’m not worth dying over.” You say, looking down. Rengoku grabs you by the chin.

“You don’t get to decide that. I do. And I decided that you’re worth saving.” He looks at you intensely to get his point across. You part your lips to argue but slowly close them. “Now enough of this, we won, let’s celebrate!”

“What do you mean?” Giyu walks closer to you, his voice has an edge to it. A worried and sharp edge. “Are you unsafe?”

“That’s not…” You trail off, unsure how to put your thoughts into words. “I’m giving you an out.”

“I don’t want it.”

“Mr. Tomioka-”

“Don’t. Please don’t call me that.” Giyu lamented, his expression pained. 

“You’d be wise to just move on.”

“I can’t. I won’t”

“You can, you should.” You growled. This reminded you so heavily of the night you stormed out of his house and you two fought in the road. You were pretty sure this was almost the exact same place. You gave an inch that night but you were trying desperately to take it back. No matter how much this hurt it would hurt even more if your curse killed him. You had to remind yourself of that. Of the thing that possessed your life. 

“Give me a reason.”

“My past should be reason enough for you.”

“What do you mean? Speak it plainly for me.”

“It’s obvious. I’m fucking cursed, Giyu!” You hadn’t expected it but ever since that night you cried you couldn’t stop. Every little thing made you cry now it was annoying. You cried when you left Giyu in the morning. Cried in your inn. Cried when you arrived back at your empty house, the taste of miso soup and potatoes wrecking your senses. Years and years of it being stored up and the dam broke. You felt like a little kid but there was no way around it. Maybe if you tried being truthful Giyu would leave. “I hid while my family died and because of it I’m cursed. I thought I could move on. Rengoku was like family to me. I let him in. I trusted him. I loved him. I let my guard down and my curse took him. And I-- I won’t let it take you okay so just do me this favor and let whatever you feel for me die.” You forced your eyes to his. Angrily wiped the tears from off  your face and looked at him intensely. “I am begging you.” Giyu looked at you, his eyes scanning your face. He walked and walked forwards until he was directly in front of you. His hands reached out, ever so gently sliding over either side of your jaw, his thumbs wiping the tears from your face. Deja vu gripped you so intensely. He’d done this same thing before. He leaned close, so close your breath hitched in anticipation of a kiss. But he stopped, mere centimeters away.

“You are not cursed.” He lets his words sink in. His eyes staring ardently into yours. Your breathing stopped, like you’d forgotten how. That dangerous beat of your heart started up again. There’s something to be said about someone that will tear themselves apart just to keep away from the one thing that could make them happy. You were the biggest component of that. It was like you craved hurting yourself. Craved punishment for crimes you never committed. Giyu pressed a kiss to your forehead. “You didn’t kill your parents and you have to stop blaming yourself for it.” His whispers as you pull back slightly, looking as though you’d been slapped. He knew it. Giyu knew you. You looked away but he forced your attention back to him. “They saved you because they loved you. You were a child. There’s no sin in that.” He presses another kiss to your face. You should back up. You needed to back up. You… you couldn’t. Giyu’s arms slide around you and you're pulled against his chest in a tight hug. “Rengoku didn’t die because he loved you, he died saving a world that had you in it.” There were the damn tears again. You closed your eyes as they sting you. “You don’t get to choose who loves you and it’s unfair to make decisions for them.” 

Rengoku’s words rang in your head.

You don’t get to decide that.

“I… I won’t make it if I lose you.” 

“Don’t say that. I’m not going anywhere and neither are you, look at me.” Giyu pulls back, you tilt your face up, eyes meeting his. “If you don’t want to lose me then fight for me, stop running, I’m begging you.” You looked up at him. There was no point in trying to build walls, not when Giyu always knew a way around them. You spent a long time in your own head. For once… you decided to let someone else make the calls. If even your most self destructive ways didn’t scare him off then it’s obvious that no matter what you did you couldn’t scare him off. 

“Alright.” You intoned softly. The utter hope on Giyu’s face was quick to show. “I’ll stop running.” 

“Promise me this time. Promise I won’t wake up and you're gone.”

“I’m sorry. You deserved better.” You breathed out, guilty.

“It’s okay. I forgive you.” He says fondly. You shake your head, eyes rolling.

“You forgive too easily.” Giyu kissed you then. No warning. Just pure want. It was the kiss of someone who’d been counting the seconds you’d been gone. Sickly sweet. Of course he’d forgive you quickly. When he pulled back he pressed his forehead to yours. “Give me your word. That you’ll give us a try.”

“I promise.” You say without hesitation. 

Giyu kissed you again, this time slowly, passionately. He tangled his hands in your hair and you melted. He was going to be the death of you. Though you supposed you shouldn’t think that way. You could settle on him being your near death experience then.

-

When the morning dawned and Giyu opened his eyes for a moment his bed felt empty. He rolled his head to the side and when his eyes fell upon you there was nothing in this world that could’ve been a better sight. He reached and softly tucked your hair out of your face. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head and let his eyes fall back closed, knowing damn well when he woke up again you’d be beside him.

bonus: giyu's letters

-

Dear Y/n,

I hope this letter finds you well. I write to only beg for a moment of your time. If you regret what happened days ago then don't spare me your kindness. I long to know what you think. What you really think.

Please meet me at the training yard in two days time.

Giyu

-

Dear Y/n,

How're you today? I do not wish to bother you, I just need you to know that I care. We can forget whatever you want. I will pretend away the feelings I have if you want. Whatever you want it is yours. Just please write me back.

Giyu  

-

Dear Y/n,

I would like to speak plainly for once. I love you. You don't ever have to say it back, I just want you to know. That's all. I will stop bugging you because you do not owe me a thing. I hope you are well. If you need anything don't hesitate to reach out. I can be a friend. I can be whatever you want. Please take care of yourself.

With love, Giyu

-

[the-writer-arrived]

Inappropriate Behavior in the Workplace

Synopsis: you decide to give your lover a hand in his work as a bartender, helping out as a waitress for the busy friday night. little did he know that your intentions were far from pure...

Characters: diluc ragnvindr; gallagher.

Warnings: afab!fem!reader; explicit smut; established relationship; unprotected sex (please use protection in real life!); semi-public sex (you fuck in the empty tavern); soft men becoming rough men; spanking; reader is a brat; reader wears a skirt; your man becomes a horny mess for you good luck dealing with him; headcanons + a drabble.

A/N: diluc 🤝 gallagher -> hot guys that work at a bar (and fuck their lover there post-work hours) that make my brain go brrrrrr.

<<This work has sexual themes and is not suitable for minors. If you click on read more, I am not responsable for any discomfort you may feel reading this. You have been warned.>>

He should have known. He should have listened to his gut feeling that you were up to no good, when you were suddenly very insistent about helping him out at the bar that friday.

But nooooo, you had to bat those little doe eyes of yours at him, like the purest, sweetest angel that you are for him to give in to your whims.

After all, that would mean spending more time with his beloved woman, instead of having her wait for him all alone back home.

Oh, if only he could look past the rose-tinted lens of love and adoration to realize the perfect trap you had prepared for him...

There were essentially three main situations that should have given you away, but that fool (/affectionate) is too much in love with you to have realized in time:

The first being your insistance of wanting to work with him in one of the busiest nights of the week. Your reason? He's been too busy lately with his other duties, so you wanted to at least be beside him... (Critical hit in his heart).

The second, your unusual choice of clothing - a skirt. Now, he isn't one to tell you what you should or shouldn't wear, he's simply surprised by it, considering it's a rare sight for you to use it. And hey, you looked absolutely beautiful with it.

The third and most obvious one - your smile. But not any smile. The one you specifically have on your lips when you have some mischief up your sleeve. Like a cat ready to pounce on an unsuspected bird.

When everything clicked inside his head, it was already too late...

You had gone behind the bar to help him clean the counter, the rush of customers dying down for the moment. While distracted wiping a glass, he accidentaly bumped into you, causing you to drop the empty cans left by some customers.

He quickly apologized, but you reassured it was fine, which really was! (He unbeknownst set the scene for the grand finale of your nefarious plan).

You, helpful as always, bent down to pick up the cans without thinking twice, causing the hem of your skirt to raise up a bit too much. Your man, gentleman as he is, was about to warn you to be careful, but any coherent thought was thrown out of the window.

It was a just glimpse. He could argue that it was just the work of his dirty imagination. A trick of the light. Anything.

But no. He knew exactly what he saw. And the wink that you gave him as you sauntered away was all the confirmation he needed to know he wasn't mistaken.

You're not using any panties.

You're working in his establishment, looking stunning as usual, with your pussy hidden only by your skirt.

Oh he feels light headed... due to all the blood going straight to his crotch.

It all makes sense now, your behavior, your choice of clothing... And now you're suddenly taking care of the tables, knowing that he can't leave the bar anymore with the big tent in his pants.

...Is this punishment for not paying attention to you the past few days? If so, he never knew you could go to such lengths to teach him a lesson...

Still, you should know that your lover isn't one to take things laying down. So, you better enjoy yourself making him squirm while you still have the advantage...

And enjoy yourself you do, much to his dismay.

He follows you with his eyes like a hawk, mind swirling with a myriad of feelings: annoyance, for being teased so cruely like this; worry, that someone might accidentaly see what they shouldn't; impatience, for the damn clock to stop dragging its hands and reach closing time already; and arousal, for having being tricked into a situation which you are the one in control.

As the night goes slowly by and the number of customers begins to decrease, the tension between the two of you grows more and more, like a volcano about to erupt.

Until finally, at long last, it's time to close the tavern.

It's time to show you the consequences of your actions.

----------

After bidding his employees a good night, he wastes not a single second more, locking the door behind him as the last inch of his patience snaps.

You're wiping one of the tables, pretending not to hear his steps coming closer to you from behind, a shiver of anticipation running down your spine. Before you can utter a word, you see his shadow falling on you, like a predator ready to pounce on his cornered prey.

He takes the dirty rag from your hand and throws it away, wrapping a strong arm around your waist to pull you flush against his chest. His other hand goes to grab your chin, turning your head to the side before stealing your breath with a kiss.

Actually, it can't even be called a kiss, but more like a two pairs of lips mashed together. It's messy, desperate and intense, his tongue invading your mouth with the objective of claiming every single part of you. Your lover's touch is rough, but not without care. Even when he's lost amidst the fiery passion that has consumed his usual composure, he never fails to make you feel loved.

As intoxicating as this moment feels, the need of oxygen is still a necessary thing for the both of you, prompting him to finally release your lips with a gasp for air. But not a second later he latches his mouth on your neck, nibbling, kissing and licking the tender flesh that soon becomes warm by his attention.

"Do you have any idea of what you did to me today?" His question is a rhetoric one, aware that your ability to think straight isn't working anymore to string an answer. "What am I saying, of course you do. In fact, you've came up with your little plan wanting things to turn out this way, right?"

Your only response is a moan when he grinds his clothed erection on your behind. Honestly, you didn't expect your plan to work so well like this, witnessing a side of him you're not used to, but still very turned on.

"Walking around all pretty like this, serving customers and helping the other employees out, with no panties on..." You let out a gasp of surprise when you're suddenly pushed down on the table, your skirt flipped out to expose your bare private parts, your cheeks flaring up as he caresses your buttock. "...Who knew I had such a lewd girl for a lover."

The harsh slap on your ass forces a loud yelp out of you, the pain of the sting mixing with pleasure that makes you shuddering. The sight of the plush skin jiggling at his action leaves him hypnotized and with his pants even tighter.

"I was tense the whole night, you know. Worried that some scumbag would try something funny and end up seeing what is for my eyes only." Another slap, now on the other asscheek, and he notices your pussy glistening with arousal at each hit. "You're getting even wetter... You're enjoying this, huh?"

A pitful whine of his name paired with the teary look you throw at him is enough to convince him to give up on his previous idea of dragging out this teasing and go straight to what you both have been desiring all evening.

Your lover grumbles in frustration at his vexing belt and pants, pushing the garment down enough to free his throbbing cock from its confines, the tip angry red and with precum.

You're so pent up with need that he doesn't even need to prep you further, seeing that you spread your folds yourself for him, impatient to have your wish fulfilled at long last. So, doing both of you a favor, he doesn't waste any more time and slides himself in, eyes rolling back at the warmth enveloping him.

"Fuck, so tight darling..." He massages your waist, trying to get you to ease up a little. You feel so fucking good, he fears he won't last at all.

His hips pick up the pace as your moans and pleas grow to a crescendo, your voice like a siren that beckons him to dive head first into this addicting chase for carnal pleasure, enhanced by the love shared between you two.

Sooner than he would have preferred, your lover reaches his peak, head thrown back and hips grinding hard against your behind, his cum filling you to the brim. You can feel your climax coming as well, his orgarsm bringing your own...! Until his cock suddenly slides out of you.

"W-Wha- Why did you-- ah!" Your words are interrupted by two fingers of his intruding your fluttering hole, him putting his weight on your back as he shushes you.

"You didn't think you get what you want so easily, did you love?" His voice is husky in your ear, fingers pushing his release back inside your pussy. "No, no, you've been a bad girl tonight. And bad girls don't get to cum now."

You whine in protest, attempting to wiggle your hips to get any sort of friction as you feel the waves of your impending climax waning.

"Please, love, please let me cum, please! It's been so long since I've felt your touch, I need you!"

His breath hitches when he listens to your begging, not expecting the neediness in your tone. It seems like his busy schedule the past few days took a heavier toll on you than he thought. He sighs, his heart is too soft for you to continue his original pay back.

"Alright, you win... But know this is the only time I'll let you off the hook for your little stunt, you hear me?"

You nod your head quickly, thank you's and promises to be a good girl falling easily from your tongue. However, you knew none of what either of you said will remain, you will continue being your teasing little self and he will continue letting your brat behavior slide, because that's the kind of couple you are.

But that's the least of your concerns right now, your mind returning to the foggy state of pleasure as you continue your inappropriate actions in many different surfaces of his bar, adding yet another secret item to your list of things one shouldn't do in the workplace.

thanks for reading <3 likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated <3

heart divider made by @/cafekitsune

red diluc and gallagher banners (smut) made by @/the-writer-arrived aka yours truly ;)

[gisellaaa]

every night you’ll hold me and tell me i’m much more than my past; oh how i wish i could believe

lh43 | after a phone call from your father, you end up losing yourself. yet luke is there to pick up the pieces, as he always is.

(a/n — this is one of my heavier pieces. i’m not at all intending to glorify this situation. i wrote this during a very hard time for me, when i just needed some comfort. know your limits before reading.)

Luke stared at the mess in front of him. The scattered broken glass that was mixed in with the clothes and papers sat on the floor. Tears were spilling down your covered face, your body curled up on the floor. You didn't even know Luke had gotten back. This wasn't the first time this happened, it was at least the third or fourth. 

It wasn't some spontaneous breakdown, you only got this way when something bad triggered you. You weren't the type of person someone had to walk on eggshells around, nervous to say the wrong thing. Years of therapy kept your emotions at bay. Yet, tonight ruined you.

Luke was worried, even just staring at you made his skin crawl. You looked absolutely empty, drained of color and emotion. It was like you were in a coma, no thoughts in your mind.

Luke, at this point, had two choices. Either he got scared from your mental disorders, or he stayed and helped you. And unlike all of your previous significant others, he stayed.

"Y/N, baby?" You were startled by the boy, jumping slightly at his voice. "What happened?" Luke's voice was in a quieter tone. 

You finally lifted your head, eyes still focused on the mess. This was then that Luke realized the blood that was dripping from your hands. His breath hitched, mentally disappointed at himself for not seeing the signs.

Luke was too busy invested in hockey that he didn't realize the lack of dishes when he arrived home late at night. He didn't notice the way you was picking at your lips until they bled. Luke didn't realize the long showers you took, or how steamed the bathroom was when you got out. He didn't fucking realize. 

That made him even more disappointed in himself than hockey ever could.

"Baby, what happened?" He asked once more, taking a step closer to you.

"I-," You paused, shaking your head. Your eyes still avoided eye contact with him.

Luke took a deep breath. He moved around the pile of clutter. You were nervous, anxious for his reaction. You was used to people leaving you to pick up the messes you would make in their life. They were usually too scared to deal with the after math.

That's what made Luke different from the rest. Luke always stayed to put the pieces back together, calming your mind to a sense of ease. Luke always told you he loved you, but his actions always spoke louder.

Luke bent down next to you, gently grabbing your bleeding hands. The blood and small cuts must be from the miscellaneous glass shards on the ground. 

"Can I?" He spoke softly, seemingly unnerved from the situation. You just nodded in reply.

Luke wrapped his arms around you, picking your limp body up off the ground. You stayed silent, your focus now on the blood that poured from your hands. You really had no idea what happened, everything felt like a black hole in your memories. Your brain felt empty, a lack of any knowledge.

Luke carried you into the bathroom, sitting you down on the toilet seat. He opened the cabinet beneath the sink, grabbing a wash cloth. Luke drenched the cloth in warm water, ready to tend to your wounds.

You kept your hands in her lap, palms up. All you could think about is what happened earlier. How could you not remember a thing? It's like you blacked out entirely. Nothing made sense, nothing clicked in your brain.

Luke kneeled in front of you, pressing the warm cloth to your hands. You flinched, the cuts burning from the pressure. The pain enough was electric zap to your brain, slowly bringing it back to life. The touch from Luke was another zap.

"Baby, I'm not going to ask. I just need to know what you're thinking." Luke kept his voice at a normal tone. He didn't want to get loud, he didn't want to make you fear him. Luke didn't want you to think he was mad or angry. Luke just wanted to know.

"I don't know." Your voice was hoarse, causing Luke to look up at you. He could tell that you were clueless at what your own brain made you do. That chipped at his heart, his own brain swirling on how to take care of you.

"It's okay." He spoke, still dabbing the cloth on the wounds. The blood had been cleaned up, some wounds still slowly trickling with the red substance. He couldn't see any visible shards of the glass.

On the outside, you were such a happy girl. Everyone on social media loved you, you weren't often receiving hate. People could tell the impact you put on Luke's life, the positive impact. But on the inside, you had deep rooted trauma that ruined you. 

"Did you hurt yourself anywhere else?" He asked, nervous for your answer. Luke cleared his throat, tossing the cloth into the sink.

You finally looked into his eyes. You could see the worry that flashed in his eyes as you couldn't give him a clear answer. You dug at your brain for answers, fighting for any sort of memory from the previous hours.

"Luke, I don't know." You answered, truthfully, darting your vision away from his once again.

Luke slowly nodded, staying silent. The silence between them was tense, at least you thought it was. Luke wanted to know what happened, you were worried he'd leave. Tears started to sting Luke's eyes as he rolled up the hoodie sleeves. His body burned with a sad, heavy feeling.

As he seen the opened scars that he once watch heal, his heart broke. Luke could've helped prevent this. If he wasn't go focused on that damn sport, he would've been able to see that his girlfriend was struggling. He could've seen everything. Luke was so disappointed in himself, unsure of what to think in the moment.

Luke's mind worked irrationally, quickly. He stood from where he was kneeling and left the bathroom.

Outside the bedroom, Jack was sitting at the kitchen counter. He knit his brows together in confusion, looking at his brothers sad look. Jack was somewhat knowledgeable as to what can rarely happen.

"You good?" Jack asked, his eyes peering at Luke.

"Yeah, yeah. Y/N just - something happened. I don't know what yet." Luke answered, digging in his hockey bag.

Luke leaving left you in a state of shock. A familiar lump reappeared in your throat. The sobs that were once silenced by the comfort of Luke, had reappeared as you brought your knees back up to her chest. Though it was normal, you thought for once maybe Luke would stay. You thought Luke was different, but he left.

Luke, on the other hand, had just left the bathroom to regain his focus. The focus that was to help the girl he loved. He moved swiftly, searching his hockey bag for the first aid kit that he was required to have. He thought it was a stupid requirement, considering if they got hurt there was an athletic trainer that tended to the injury. But now? He was thankful he had that stupid thing.

Luke found the plastic box and rushed back to the bathroom. That's where he seen that you were now sobbing. Luke set the box on the sink.

"Hey, it's okay." Luke sat back down in front of you, placing a comforting hand onto your thigh.

You removed your head from your body, coming to the realization that Luke was still here. He hadn't left, yet. Luke was still there to help you, his love showing more and more.

"I need to see your arms so I can clean them, please." Luke asked calmly, opening the first aid kit. He dumped the supplies onto the ground, searching for the right items

Luke reached out for one of your arms, which you hesitantly gave to him. Luke rolled up your sleeve, watching as you looked away from the fresh cuts. He opened an antiseptic wipe, ready to clean the cuts.

"This is going to burn, you know this will burn. Just try to breathe for me baby, okay?" Luke squeezed your hand in comfort, you nodded as a reply.

Luke pressed the wipe to the wounds. You hissed at the burn, trying to find something other than the pain to focus on. You had racked your mind as you tried to comprehend what had sent you on this spiral. The harsh pain on your arms were quickly bringing your brain back to life. A gasp fell from your lips.

You remembered it all. You were watching Luke and Jack on ESPN, unable to go to the game due to the homework you had. Your homework and the game had been forgotten when you received that phone call. There it was, your dad had called you. He was reminding you of how shitty it was of you to leave him struggling. Reminding you that boyfriends aren't forever and that family was. Your dad didn't forget to insult you, either.

In fact, he called you every derogatory name in the book.

"My dad called me." You stated, voice quiet.

Luke's eyes flickered up to yours, realizing that your brain was coming back to life. "What did he say?" Luke continued cleaning your arm until all the dried blood was gone.

"The normal." Simple sentence that carried a heavy meaning. Luke knew what 'the normal' was when it came to your father. The normal wasn't a civil conversation. The normal was your father full blown screaming at you until you broke. It reminded Luke of the many times he'd rushed to get you after your dad argued with you.

Luke didn't answer, he just took the other arm into his hands and cleaned the wounds on that arm. The silence was more comfortable now that there was less confusion. When Luke finally finished cleaning all your fresh wounds, he threw everything away. The small trash bin in the bathroom was now overfilled with medical supplies, antiseptic wipes, and bandage wrappers.

"I'll get you clothes to change into, you can take a bath and lay down. I'll clean up the room." Luke stated, standing up in front of her. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair.

"No, I'll clean it, I made the mess." You responded, feeling suddenly guilty for the fact he had to pick up your mess. You hated that Luke had to deal with your mess, your baggage. It was an insecurity from the first time something bad happened in your life while you were dating Luke.

Luke quickly shook his head, starting to run a bath for you. You were still curled up on the toilet seat, your hoodie now on the ground. Luke went back into the bedroom, grabbing a new sweatshirt and pants for you. He placed them on the sink.

"I'll wait out here, come out when you're done." Luke pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, turning towards the exit.

"Luke?" He paused, turning back to face you.

"Thank you." 

Luke left his bedroom, going out the the main room where Jack was now watching film on the iPad. Jack looked up at Luke, patting the spot on the couch next to him. Luke collapsed onto the couch, burying his face in his hands.

"How bad was it this time?" Jack asked, setting the iPad next to where you left your laptop.

"Not the worst one." Luke replied, running his hands down his face. "Her dad called her again, I'm probably going to make her change her number or something." 

"That's for the best, probably." Jack answered, watching his brother. Jack leaned over, patting Luke on the back. "You are doing good, Luke. Many people would've ran away after that. You really love her, kid."

"I do, I really do."

Luke had gone back to the room, quickly cleaning up the mess of glass and letters. He recognized the letters as ones you kept from when you were a kid. From when your dad was still in prison. Luke didn't want to keep them, but he did. Even though your dad was a shitty person, the letters meant a lot to you.

Luke laid down on the bed, using the remote to turn on the TV. Luke turned on your favorite show, waiting for you to be done in the bathroom.

A few moments passed, you sluggishly walking out from the bathroom. Luke quickly turned his head to look at you. You laid down next to him in the bed. His arms quickly slid around you, pulling you close to his body. He placed a kiss to the top of your head, smoothing down your hair.

"I'm sorry, Luke." You apologized, hiding your face from him.

"Baby, it's okay. You know I won't get mad about it. I'm always going to help you through this shit." Luke quickly replied, his hands now holding your face in his hands.

"I just feel so guilty. You already have so much stress from hockey, I don't want to add to the stress." You admitted, a single tear falling down your cheek. 

"Y/N, you don't stress me out. I love you, and this is just something that comes with loving you. I would rather stay here and help you than run away from this. This is something I can handle, something I've always been able to handle. Okay? We don't have to talk about this right now, baby, you need to sleep." 

"I love you, Luke." You mumbled, cuddling further into his body.

Luke pressed another kiss to your head, watching as you fell asleep. You had a hold so strong on Luke. A hold that no one has ever been able to break or alter. A hold that would last forever through it all.

[emmasbrain]

Miscommunication (the fun kind) Part 2

This is part 2, trust when I say it makes very little sense without part 1.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Synopsis: You meet him for your date, but it’s cut a little short.

Warnings: None I can think of other than cringe writing.

A/N: This took ages man, I don’t know what happened but I just felt a block so many apologies for taking so long.

As you click the little green button, you feel unnecessarily nervous. “Hello.”

“Hi.” He replies, and the smile that graces your lips can be heard from the other end of the phone.

“Doc. I’m glad you called.” You try to play it cool, but you know he can sense your excitement anyway.

“I’m glad you asked me to. Look, I’m on my way to a case right now, but I was thinking that when I get back we could do something? Go for dinner, maybe?” He sounds as nervous as you feel, and your heart spikes a little.

“Dinner sounds great. Have you thought of a place?” You do a little spin in the living room of your small apartment and you hear chatter in the background of the call.

“There’s this little restaurant that I normally get takeout from. I know them pretty well so they’ll keep me a table on short notice. They’ve got everything so statistically there’s bound to be something you like.” The way he speaks reaches a spot in your brain, fast and passionate, even about the most mundane things.

“I know I’m gonna like it because you do, and I trust your taste.” You bite your lip, wondering if that was too much.

“You should, I’m very particular.” His voice betrays the fact that he’s grinning, and you match his expression.

“I like particular. Particular is good.” Your voice has dropped a little subconsciously, and he’s about to reply when you hear the familiar voice of Agent Hotchner alerting Spencer that they need him.

“I’ve gotta go, but I’ll call you when I’m home?” You almost sigh in contentment at just the sound of him, but you snap out of it quickly to reply.

“I’ll be waiting patiently, Doc. I’ll see you.” You hang up, and stand in the middle of your living room for what seems like an hour but truly is only a few minutes. Why are you so attracted to this guy you only met a few nights ago?

But you feel as though you know him, from the way Penelope has talked about him, from the time you spent together. You feel as though you know them all.

—

You just sent in the final draft of your latest article. This one had been an absolute nightmare, being asked to write a piece on climate change. Your editors loved you for your fresh takes, but after so long there was no angle on climate change that hadn’t already been written. They seem fairly happy with it, but you can’t help the nagging feeling of wishing you could have done the proposed piece on how tourism is ruining the economy like you had wanted.

Through the annoyance of knowing you could have done better, you still feel slightly more at ease knowing the article is finished and out of your hands, and that you can relax and drink your fourth mug of coffee for the day. It’s eleven am.

But as you stand to stretch your achy muscles and make some fresh coffee, your phone rings. You know who it is before you even pick up, but make sure to check anyway just in case.

‘Spencer’ flashes on your screen, and you immediately sit down on your sofa, hitting the answer button and taking a readying breath.

“Hey Doc.” Your voice is unintentionally airy, but he doesn’t seem to notice - or he pretends not to - as he replies.

“Hey. I got back from work late last night, but I didn’t wanna call in case you were asleep. I was just wondering what you had planned for tonight?” The grogginess in his voice is evident, and it raises a question before you can even think about answering his.

“Spencer, how long ago did you wake up?” The simple question makes him go quiet for a moment before he speaks.

“I woke up just before I called you.” He sounds nervous to admit it, like he’s embarrassed to be caught thinking of you so soon into his day.

“Must have been thinking about me in your sleep then. And to answer your question, I’m free tonight.” You can’t hide the tinge of satisfaction knowing he thought about you maybe as often as you thought about him.

The small breath he sucks in doesn’t pass by you. You may not be a behavioural analyst but you are a damn good journalist, and you know what that little breath means. It says “you caught me”. Was he really thinking of you in his slumber? You note it down in the back of your head to try and slip out of him later.

“Would you like to go for dinner to that restaurant tonight?” He seems to have composed himself as he asks his question, and you try not to sound too enthusiastic as you eagerly say yes. “Okay, great- that’s great! I’ll pick you up at six… I don’t drive.” The defeat in his voice makes you laugh.

“How about I pick you up?” You suggest, calming his nerves. “You can tell me where to go.” Truthfully, you had already planned to drive him. Penelope told you once how he doesn’t drive, and you called her two days ago to reconfirm. This information, however, is not something you feel the need to tell him, because it seems a little obsessive - but you were just thinking logically of course - and you don’t want to weird him out quite so early.

He seems to be okay with the idea, and you’re thankful that he doesn’t take it as a blow to his ego like most men would. The call ends after a few short pleasantries - that are actually pleasant - and you immediately get to work.

You throw open the doors of your wardrobe and go straight to the dresses, very slowly narrowing it down to two options. A flowy red dress that you almost go with, and a simple black silk dress that ends just below your knees.

This one is for special occasions, and you deemed this a pretty special occasion. As you rummage through your box of shoes and stack of earrings trying desperately to find earrings and heels in the same colour, you come across a pair of purple strapped heels that you know you have drop earrings in a similar shade to. You just can’t find them.

Suddenly you notice that it’s 12:30 and your brain short circuits. Your entire room is thrown upside down and inside out until you find the earrings you’re looking for, and then neatly arranged back to its original state, all within thirty minutes. Now you have your little purple dewdrops and your outfit is complete, but you have four and a half hours until you need to leave and you know you’ll need it, albeit mostly to panic.

Four hours passes and you’ve showered, shaved, styled your hair and put on some light makeup. Your nail polish is just dry and you have your dress on, so you buckle your heels and stand. Twenty five minutes before you can leave. That’s not bad. You just have to wait twenty five minutes… But what if traffic is bad? You should probably leave fifteen minutes early for that, right? And if you think about it, the time between leaving your house and getting to the car wasn’t considered in the time it would take you to get there, and if you drag it out that’s a good five minutes. So really you only need to leave in five minutes. But what’s the point of waiting five minutes really? You should just leave now. Good idea.

As you park at his apartment building you realise you may have been a little over eager. The drive was ten minutes shorter than expected, so you’re around thirty minutes early. Which is embarrassing, so to speak. But you decide to head up early, a gut feeling telling you that it’ll be beneficial.

As you knock, he immediately opens the door and then a sheepish look comes over his face. “I saw you get out of your car.” He nervously rubs his hand on the back of his neck and it makes you smile. Then you take in his attire. He looks similar to when you met him in the bar, although he’s wearing white converse to match a white shirt underneath his brown suit. He’s also sporting a watch, and - most importantly - glasses. Damn those fucking glasses.

You realise you haven’t responded and are now intensely looking at his eyes, and he looks a little uncomfortable.

“Shit- sorry. I was just looking at you- I mean you look good- Great! You look great. You look… pretty. I like your glasses, do you wear them often?” Although you can feel yourself rambling into oblivion, you somehow can’t stop the flood of words that come out of your mouth.

His mouth opens for a moment as though he might speak, and then it shuts again. He stands aside to let you come in. “I never let you in.” He comments, sounding apologetic.

You shake your head in reassurance. “That’s alright, I wasn’t sure if you would even be ready since I’m so early. I never meant to be, I just kind of over thought it and now I’m here.” You wring your fingers together. Spencer noticed that you do it as a nervous habit when you met in the bar.

“I was ready an hour ago, I’ve just been reading while I waited for you. You can sit.” He motions to his sofa, and you sit next to the armrest so that you can turn and lean your back against it to face him sitting a little away from you. “You look beautiful. You remind me of a painting called ‘Madame X’, you probably know it. You could almost be a modernised retelling. Did you know that the painting caused an extreme public discourse as people thought the artist, John Singer Sargent, made the woman look deathly pale and scandalously unclothed.” He says all this with a little grin, and you can’t help but grin along with him.

The decision to tease him comes before you can truly think about it. “You think I look deathly pale and scandalously unclothed, Doc?” As the words come out of your mouth, he pales slightly.

“No, of course not! You remind me more of the principle. The woman was so beautiful she was renowned for her looks. Painters had all but begged her to do a portrait before, but she declined until she found Sargent. But even then, the people of Paris thought the painting didn’t do her beauty justice. Despite this, the painting became famous and beloved for hundreds of years around the world, and to this day is still considered a work of true historical art. A timeless beauty. That’s how I think you look.” His passion for little things shines through again, and your mouth is left slightly agape from his words.

“That was…” You can’t even think.

“A lot, I know. I tend to ramble a lot. I don’t really notice that I’m bothering people until it’s too late.” He rubs the back of his neck again, and the thought of people being bothered by him sends multiple emotions running down your spine.

You reach over and grab his hand with one of yours, the other going to touch his face. “I was going to say, that was awfully considerate of you. Never assume that you’re bothering me. Talk quite literally as much as you please, I want to know what you want to say… If we weren’t on our first date I’d readily teach you exactly how much I enjoy when you talk, but that can be saved for another time, maybe.” Your voice drops nearer the end, and he picks up on it as he sucks in a breath and nods vigorously.

“Definitely- I mean yes, sure. I will keep that in mind.” He’s still nodding as you smile at him, a proper smile.

“You’re pretty when you get flustered. You get all red, from the tops of your cheeks all the way down your neck.” You silently wonder if it goes further. You wish you could check. The hand on his face trails down his neck as you speak, emphasising what you mean.

He gets redder. How can he get redder? “Pretty. You’ve used that word on me twice now.” The comment seems to be more of an observation than a question, but you answer it as though it is one.

“I think you’re pretty. Handsome is a word I dislike. It reminds me of Ken, like Barbie and Ken. You’re not a doll, you’re a man, who just so happens to be pretty. I could call you beautiful instead, I’d say that adjective very accurately describes you too. Gorgeous, if that’s something you prefer.” You relent as the redness gets impossibly worse, and it makes you feel a little guilty. “Sorry, Doc, I just like seeing you flustered. I’ll call you handsome or something more masculine if you’re more comfortable with that.” You give him a little smile and pull your hand from his face.

He wouldn’t say it out loud but he wishes you would keep it there. He grasps your other hand tightly in his, and he shakes his head. “I don’t mind. You can call me whatever you feel like… You’re wearing purple. Purple is my favourite colour.” He looks away for a moment, and it warms your heart.

“Purple suits you, as a favourite colour I mean. Mine is green.” Your voice holds a gentleness in it that comes with caring for someone. It’s baffling. You’ve known him days. A week at most. You shouldn’t feel so… warm around him.

“Green makes sense. I think purple looks best on you though, which is definitely coming from a place of bias.” This makes you laugh, small and breathy, but he smiles at the sound.

You don’t realise how much time has passed until you hear a buzzing noise, and you both realise it’s a phone ringing. It’s coming from the other room so you assume it’s Spencer’s and he quickly gets up to answer. You can’t hear much from the wall between you, but when he comes back through looking thoroughly disappointed, you can tell it’s a work call. “Serial killers don’t stop for first dates sadly.” You remark, and he looks a little surprised.

“How did you know?” He questions, coming closer to you and you stand up to face him.

“I may not be a behavioural analyst, but I can tell what that face means. It means ‘I’m so sorry but I have to go stop murders’.” You smile to try and reassure him, but you can see the cogs whirring in his brain.

He seems to be thinking too many thoughts to process, but suddenly he dips down and kisses you. It’s short, but it’s soft, and you have a look of surprise on your face as he pulls away. “I wish we had gotten to go on our date, but I really wish that this doesn’t stop us from going on another one.” He looks at you in anticipation, and you melt.

“I wouldn’t pass it up for the world, Doc. Why don’t you go get ready and I’ll drive you there. We can plan the next one in the car.” You kiss his cheek and go to sit back down, and he shuffles away to his bedroom with a stupid smile tugging at his lips.

A/N: So… thoughts on part 3 with newly established relationship reid x reader ? Equally, thoughts on me adding smut somewhere along the line?

[ariseur]

Mngghhwhw your writing makes me feel all mushy gushy I adore it

Could I ask for Dante x oblivious reader? 🦀🦀

dante with an oblivious reader 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

┊ ˚➶ notes ｡˚ 🎼

eee!! i’m glad you guys like my writing, i hope i did this request justice 😭😭

┊ ˚➶ warnings ｡˚ 🎼

intended lowercase, dante being a flirty bastard, nico and nero mentioned so kinda set in dmc5?? but you can imagine it’s anyone else / ignore the hc :), lmk if i missed anything!! 💕

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

❥ hmm.. dante with an oblivious reader, where to begin..

❥ i think dante would think you were teasing him at first, always having him repeat things or tilt your head at a certain remark. he’d laugh it off and shake his head, leaving you to furrow your brows in thought of what he meant.

❥ you obviously know what flirting is, but even when it’s so painfully in front of your face, you just can’t seem to see it for some reason. and when dante realizes this, he’s suddenly like ‘oh that makes sense’ and everything clicks. so he only turns up the flirting times ten.

❥ tries to drop more direct hints and direct comments but i imagine he’d either just make you flustered or— with his luck, get interrupted and would eventually end in you not taking a hint once again.

❥ if you were traveling with nico and nero, they’d literally be BEGGING you to see the signs. which you’d be confused by because— dante’s just a friend? sure he gets a little flirty, but he’s like that with everybody!!

❥ and they’re just, “no honey, no 🙂”

❥ dante tries his best to be as forward as possible.. without telling you that he has feelings for you.. without simultaneously trying to say it in a way where he doesn’t sound like a weirdo?

❥ dante does find your oblivion cute, rather purposefully teasing you and cornering you, even gently grabbing your chin and lifting it up to make eye contact with him if you’re too embarrassed. so then you’ll have to finally understand what he’s doing right??

❥ and if you don’t, oh my goodness he’s out of ideas.

❥ he will just straight up tell you “i want you” and you’re just like “oh. so everybody else was right!!” 😭

❥ he still finds your cluelessness adorable, even if he struggles with having you take a hint most of the time. dante almost finds it.. endearing? you may not be innocent or clueless about everything, but he just likes teasing you when he can lol.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

“i’m tellin’ ya,” nico put her hand on your shoulder as she turned her head and exhaled some smoke, “DANTE’s sweet on ya.”

you scoffed and turned back to the road, trying to ignore the way she smirked at your annoyance. “he does not.”

“does too.”

“does not!”

“does—!” before this bickering back and forth could go on any longer, nero silenced both of you with a sleepy, “shut up.”— to which both you and nico silently snickered and turned your attention back to the road, starting up the engine and heading off again.

that late night conversation floated mindlessly around your head, barely occurring even when you talked to dante. he couldn’t have had feelings for you, right? dante was just.. dante. he practically flirted with everybody, shamelessly at that.

but when you’d spot him at the office or across the numerous groups of demons littering the desolate vicinities, nico’s face always came to mind. that stupid grin on her face when you’d deny it and the way she gave you a dismissive hum when you told her it’d never happen. you didn’t want it to happen, why would you? dante wasn’t for you. why would you be considering these possibilities when there was no way dante could have feelings for you?

until he did. you had thought that until now, where he caged you in between the wall and pierced through you with his silver eyes, one quality him and his brother shared, although dante’s were much more lenient.

“hello?” his voice broke through the thoughts clouding your brain. he cocked his head in bemusement, waiting for a reaction from you.

“what were you saying?”

“i’m saying that i like you.”

you paused as your eyes darted everywhere but him. surely, you looked frazzled and embarrassed at the proximity of you and dante— before you finally said, “oh.” he had said it so nonchalantly, as if it was common knowledge. you thought back to nico and wondered if she really was trying to help you that night.

“so..” awaiting an answer, dante quirked a brow as he threw you another lazy grin, perhaps amused in your flustered state. “what ever shall we do about that?” leaning in closer, you could see his eyes staying fixated on your face, although your kept your own pair glued to the side.

“i dunno.” you rushed out.

dante pouted, “you don’t know? c’mon, you must have some idea.”

“a.. date?” wincing at how awkward you sounded, you tore your eyes from a spot in the hardwood floors of the devil may cry office and back onto him. an evident pleased look on his face told you that he was finally glad you figured it out. he backed away from you and put a hand on his hip.

letting a soft laugh escape his lips, he pushed back his hair, “so i’ll pick you up at nine, tomorrow?”

[sweetestcaptainhughes]

Friends to Lovers is for the Fairytales

Word Count - 8k

Author's Note: Thank you all for requesting a part 2. Here it is, I know the word count is pretty high but the drama was too good for me to cut any parts. Also, I figured I should make a real cover for this fic since it has multiple parts now. 🤣🤣 As always thank you for reading and enjoy the drama.

Possible Triggers - friends with benefits established, use of Y/N, mentions of anxiety, panic attack, lots of cursing

Summary: When you met Jack and everything just clicked for the first time in your life. You thought that meant that you would finally get your happy ever after but maybe that isn't the case.

Part 1 Part 2

You don’t remember much from last night other than by some miracle making it home. It felt as if you were having an out body experience, like someone drugged you earlier in the night because you couldn’t feel anything. All you knew was that you craved your bed. The storm was still going strong once you reached your apartment. It almost felt as if it was displaying how your heart, body and soul felt, just raging on, praying someone would reach out a hand to hold. As you walk up the four flights of stairs to your apartmentIt hits you. It feels like how people describe a near death experience. As if the last year of your life flashed before your eyes. Your body gives out and you fall on the 3rd floor landing. Your panic attack is finally taking over your senses. You can’t feel anything and yet you feel everything at once. Your head hurts hurts as memories of you and Jack flash through it.He was always the one who talked you off the ledge. You couldn’t remember the last time you had a panic attack let alone an anxiety attack. Now to think this is your second one of the night, it pushes you over the edge.

You know Anna is upstairs, if you could just move your legs. But you can’t, you're stuck, hyperventilating as your world comes crashing down. Realizing that the love of your life, didn’t see you as anything more than some girl who was simply a fuck. The man you have spent the last almost a year building your life around. Now here you were with your hands trying to grab your chest, scratch your arms, you didn’t care if they bleed after you just needed to ground yourself. You can hear his voice in your mind “ baby it’s okay, I got you.” As you grab your shoulder and start squeezing it, what he always did to bring you back. “I am right here baby, I got you, you're so strong. You're safe.” Your other hand is going to touch your head and bring it through your hair. He always cradled your head in chest, to hide you from the world until you were ready to come back into it. You open your eyes and you scream fully accepting your pain. Because you realized that your brain just played the biggest trick on you of all, Jack wasn’t holding you. No, he was the cause of it and when your body felt like you were having a heart attack the only logical thing your brain could do was play some sick joke on you by using the man that caused the pain to calm your demons. 

You must have yelled louder than you realized because Anna came running down the stairs to you. “Oh love,” she exclaims a mixture of sadness and sympathy at seeing her friend at a low, but in the background there was a mixture of anger at Jack for helping you go so far in your journey of healing only to snatch it away in the end. She sits next you facing your body that was against the wall. “I got you love, it’s okay, everything will be okay.” She whispers in your arms.

“Come on Y/N. Let’s get you home.” she says as she slowly starts urging you to stand. Knowing that normally you like to cry behind closed doors and not on the landing of the stairs to your apartment.

“Home?” you whispered no longer crying for the moment. “But he was my home.” you slowly start to cry out again feeling yourself working back up. 

“Nope nope, we're not doing this. Look at me Y/N” you’re not sure if you move your eyes to meet hers or if she moves. You're trying to focus on how your breathing isn’t normal anymore and trying to remember the last time it was. “Hear me when I say this…are you listening?” she asks one hand on your cheek to keep your focus, the other on your forearm moving it back and forth. “You are one bad bitch and although I don’t know what happened yet. Fuck him, you hear me, he’s a dumb fucker and I told you that when I found out he couldn’t cook broccoli. What fucking adult doesn’t know how to boil water.” By the end you can hear the judgment in her voice and you laugh, it's a sad laugh but a laugh. It makes Anna breakout in a full blown smile for the first time since she found you. “Alright let’s get you upstairs, you're soaked you need a shower so you don’t get sick, and then we can do whatever you want alright love?”

You finally get up, and Anna helps you to get up the stairs and inside your apartment. Anna let’s you go to take a shower, as she goes to the kitchen getting some food ready because knowing you, you probably haven’t eaten. Then you come to the kitchen wrapped in a towel, but her back is turned to her. You're scared to speak, not trusting your voice in the moment, you wait until she turns around. “Jesus Y/N/N.” she yells her hand going to  her chest probably feeling like you jump scared her. She knows there is no way you showered yet but she asks anyway “Have you finished your shower yet?” In a soft voice not sure what you need.

“I don’t wanna be alone. Can you -” suddenly embarrassed feeling yourself on the edge of yet another crying fit, you feel like a toddler scared of the dark needing a flashlight to sleep alone at night. 

“Of course. I’ll stay on the toilet seat. We can talk or sit in silence whatever you need Y/N. I am here. I love you.” she comes up to you and hugs you. 

“Thank you,” you whisper out as you turn to the bathroom, and get in the shower. Anna stays true to her word; she sits her ass on the toilet and doesn’t move. 

After a few minutes she asks, “Do you wanna talk or silence?” 

“No silence… but I - I -” You stumble over your words as your body wash is rinsing off of you from the water. 

“Okay I can talk enough for the both of us.” She says in such a confident and non-judgment way. Your heart swells with love for the first time tonight and you have a little smile on your face although Anna can’t see it. 

She continued to talk the entire time you were in the shower updating you on her work crush, her brother calling her for advice after accidentally sending a girl  nudes when he was drunk. She went on and on about how her brother was a fucking idiot and every time she had to talk to him about girls she swears her IQ drops because the brain cells literally die from hearing his train of thought. She then goes on to make a comment about how she still thinks Luke and her brother would be best friends. By the end you’re crying with laughter for the first time that day. 

Once you’re done with your shower we climb into my bed. Anna insists on warming up the leftover pizza you had earlier, chocolate and a bottle of wine “y/n whatever the fuck happened it was big, I say this with love, but I haven’t seen that bad of an attack for you in forever. I am gonna need to be tipsy so I don’t drive to his place and beat him up.” Anna, your true ride or die, and you loved her for it. By the end of telling her everything it was nearing 2 AM and you felt like you were gonna collapse. Anna convinced you at some point to call out tomorrow, probably somewhere along your fourth glass of wine and third breakdown of the night. Which is ironic you calling out but you don’t mention that to her. She writes the email to your boss saying that you had the flu and you were ready to bring a doctor’s note when you returned. Which if you sober, you would have questioned her on. 

“Okay so what happened once you got to the bar. By the way, you are nicer than me. I wouldn't have sent his drunk ass an uber. But I’ve always said that you're nicer than me. After he practically said you were with him for the money like fuck you dude. ” You physically wince, grateful that Anna broke out a new bottle of wine so she can’t make her earlier threat a reality. Once you tell her she stands up, “I am gonna kill him.” As she goes into the living room looking for her slip ons to put on her feet, you follow closely behind. 

“No An please. Please. Don’t. I don’t want the fucking drama, okay? Plus you’ve been drinking.” you reason quickly trying to convince your friend to calm down. 

“That’s why uber exists.” She says matter of factly, you glance at the time now being almost 3. 

“If an uber comes and gets you, how do you know he’s home? Please Anna, I beg you.” As you finally reach, the app is already opened, house keys in hand. She glances up at you and sees your pleading eyes. 

“Fine. But if he EVER shows his fuckface around here, He has to answer to me.” 

“Deal” you rush out almost as if you didn’t see in the moment she would have finished ordering the uber. 

“Alright let’s go to bed. I’m not letting you sleep by yourself tonight.” You show a small smile on yourself as you follow Anna back to your room ready to pass out after such a long day. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------

You woke up the next day, the events from yesterday slowly coming back to you. You don’t know whether it’s a good thing or a bad thing that you have no energy to cry. You grab your phone from the end table, mentally thanking your drunk self for plugging it in before passing out. The time on your phone displays 11:30 AM. You can’t help but wince at your background, it’s you and Jack on the boat last summer he’s driving and you're in his lap. Neither of you even knew that Quinn was taking the picture at the time since it’s taken from behind you both. 

Later when you asked him why he took it he said “i’ve never seen Jack that happy with a girl.. I wanted to capture a moment where he wasn’t being an asshole with Trevor for once in the summer. Plus it’ll be cute to have pictures from this summer to look back on.” 

Little did he know that now it made your stomach sink. You slowly went through your texts from last night and while you were sleeping. A lot of Jack that you don’t open, a few from Anna explaining that she had to go to work and that I was right when I said being hungover at work fucking sucks. One from your boss saying he hopes you feel better which you heart. The most shocking of all a text of all comes from Luke. 

baby bro Lukey 👶🏻

received 9:00 AM

Hey I just want to tell you how sorry I am about last night. I don’t know what I thought at the moment, but when Nico told me the little he heard I felt sick because I feel like this is all my fault about what happened at the bar.

Received 9:02 AM

I guess I was trying to save Jack, so he could apologize for being the biggest dumbass in Jersey. But I should have been loyal to you, I mean.. you're basically like a big sister to me. Shit when you met Emmy I introduced you as family. You helped me more than anyone with the stress and anxiety of my rookie year, you always make sure I’m okay, I mean fuck I go you for advice about well everything more than Jack or Quinn. I’m sorry about not choosing you last night to be loyal to you. I don’t expect you to answer I just, I needed to reach out and tell you how fucking sorry I am Y/N/N. 

Immediately, you feel tears coming on reading Luke’s text. People in the media always assume that Quinn is the most sensitive, but really it’s Lukey. Immediately you start texting back.

baby bro Lukey 👶🏻

Sent at 11:45 AM

Oh lukey, thank you for your kind words. I don’t blame you in any way shape or form for your jackass of a brother, I am happy you reached out, you’ve always been the sweetest. Right now I need space from everything that reminds of Jack… but I promise we will not stop being friends and you can text me anytime my baby bro Lukey 👶🏻.

baby bro Lukey 👶🏻

Received 11:48

I understand Y/n/n it’s okay but if you need anything I’m here and I know it doesn’t mean anything but I’m sorry for Jack’s actions.

The tears that were welling in your eyes fully, making you cry. You didn’t respond to Luke, but you did love the message. Then you turned around and cried yourself back to sleep. 

You woke up to Anna knocking on your door around 7:00. She didn’t bother for a response as she walked in. You turned around so you were facing the door again. As soon as Anna noticed the way you were laying and your bloodshot eyes she came running over. You could tell she had literally just walked into the apartment from work. “Oh Y/N honey” she cooed at you as she got on the bed next to you and held you to her chest, her hands running up and down your back in a comforting way. 

Your voice cracked as just above a whisper somehow you were able to get the next words out of your mouth. “I - I thought it was a dream.” As a loud sob left your mouth. As you bring one hand to grip your chest trying to dull the pain and the other grabbing tightly onto Anna’s sweater just trying to keep yourself grounded. 

“I know sweetheart. I wish it was for you,” She whispers as she holds onto you trying to bring you some sort of comfort to you as you experience one of the worst pains you have ever felt. 

Luke’s POV

Luke was just hanging out in his room playing some random PC game he just spent today trying to avoid Jack at all cost. He was feeling pretty pissed at him for hurting Y/N plus Jack hasn’t been in the best mood today after everything that’s happened over the last 24 hours or so. Luke thinks he did a pretty good job ignoring Jack since he only saw him once today right after Y/N had texted him back. A small part of him felt pity for Jack, he looked like absolute shit. Luke doesn’t remember the last time he saw his brother not only nurse such a shitty hangover but look so…broken. But his brain immediately reminds him of what he did and he hates him for hurting someone he considered a sister. Luke took all the food and drinks he would need for the remainder of the day to his room when he ran into Jack this afternoon, deciding that he didn’t deserve Luke’s presence at least not today after what he did. 

Luke noticed his phone lighting up on his desk, he saw Quinn’s contact flash on the screen. Even though he wanted to murder Jack for last night, he still respected Quinn. he decided to pause his game to answer. Once he opened the message he noticed Quinn sent something in the group chat, - but it wasn’t the group chat with just Luke and his brothers, it was the one that was used much more often the one that included Y/N - Luke’s stomach dropped because he didn’t know what was about to happen but he knew it wasn’t gonna end well. 

Quinny -

Sent at 8:03 PM

Hey, have we all decided what we’re getting dad for his birthday??

I want to order it ASAP before we forget

It’s in like 2 ½ weeks.

8:05 PM

Y/N has left the group chat the hughes & future hughes

Quinny 

Sent 8:05

Ummm.. why the fuck did Y/N just leave 

Jack did y’all get another heated debate earlier about the what’s the best beer again 🤣🤣

Jackey

Sent 8:06

I’m not doing this right now.

I can’t believe she left 

Jackey has left the groupchat the hughes & future hughes 

Luke felt the stomach drop, the familiar feeling of anxiety slowly rising in his stomach. He started mumbling a slur of curse words as he read everything unfolding. He actually felt like he could throw up when he saw Quinn Facetiming him. Luke dropped his phone in shock, falling under his desk. “Shit shit shit shit fuck me fuck me fuck fuck fuck” He started repeating like a prayer trying to bring himself comfort as he reached for his phone under the desk. If this was any other time, he would have ignored Quinn and told him to contact them himself if wanted to play “oldest daughter syndrome” for the day. Unfortunately, this wasn’t a normal time and although he would love for Jack to answer to his questions and deal with his “you fucking dumbass” facial expression and fully judging the fuck out of you eyes. He knew Quinn and he knew he was more likely to call Y/N first. Luke still felt like shit for last night, he wasn’t gonna abandon Y/N again, even if she never knew. That simple fact is the only thing that made him bite his lip welcoming the blood from the pressure as he answered the Facetime call. 

“Okay what the actual fuck is happening with them??’ Quinn asks with a mixture of confusion and concern in his face. Scrunching his eyebrows together in confusion, but his face full of an underlying message of ‘speak now or my ass is on the next plane out.’

Luke lets a deep breath out, he didn’t even realize he was holding. “Okay I can tell you what I know, but what I do know isn’t much and I need you to promise me you aren’t gonna tell mom and dad.” Luke lists his requests like his agent does when negotiating a new contact. 

“Okay..” Quinn says confusion evident in his voice and even more on his face.

“Oh and you can’t contact Y/N -” Luke rushes out.

“What?!” Quinn cuts him off raising his voice, getting annoyed at his little brother’s demands for a simple question.

“Just not today okay…just give her a few days.” Luke reasons

“Why? She’s practically family!” Quinn questions

“Just… promise you won’t. Q, please.” Quinn could hear the desperation in Luke’s face he immediately and reluctantly agreed.

Quinn opens his mouth, talking in a much softer tone “Okay Lukey sure, I promise, now tell me what the fuck happened.”  

“Okay like I said I don’t know much but this is what I do know. We had Emmy’s birthday last night and Jack showed up a little late. I mean not super late, normal Jack late but you know-” Luke’s rambling was becoming extremely noticeable as with each word his voice was quickening in speed, his anxiety beginning to be noticeable. 

“Luke first take a deep breath buddy.” Quinn patiently waits until Luke takes a few breaths before he begins speaking in a more demanding tone “Now can you please get to the fucking point!” he exclaims. 

“Okay so Jack showed up and he was off, like super off. He looked pissed he dragged me to the bar immediately ordering shots demanding we “celebrate Emerison’s big day.” Luke says, making quotation marks with his hands at the last part. “Anyway, after 2 shots I left to dance with Emmy. When I came back to the bar like I swear Q not more than an hour TOPS. He was noticeably getting drunk texting Y/N. At first I didn’t think anything of it but then I saw his face. He looked sad.” Luke admits quietly like he was tattling on his brother and didn’t want Jack to overhear. 

“What do you mean by sad? That's not Jack.”  Quinn questioned. 

“Yeah I know anyway he started telling me how he fucked up and he got in a fight with Y/N/N. I mean Q if it wasn’t for him looking like he just got the shit beat out of him and he was fighting to breathe with a broken rib. I would have laughed it off, cause they never argue even before and when they do it’s a debate at best. But - his face Q. I’ve never seen him like that. I told him to go to her, take an uber. Hell I offered to pay for it he refused, ya know his stubborn ass. Anyway, I decided to leave him to himself if he wanted to be an idiot let him, I thought.” Luke suddenly paused as he realized the next part of his story was going to be.

“Okay what happened next moose.” Quinn asked as he started walking around his apartment, he propped his phone so it was sitting up against the wall of his kitchen leaving the frame.  Luke figured he was probably making lunch after training. 

“Uhh… well I kind of fucked up Quinny.” Admitting it out loud made Luke feel worse than he has all day. 

“What? I thought this was about Jack?” Quinn asked. 

“Well he did but, I don’t know why he did this but the next time I saw him he was kissing some random girl and-” before Luke could finish his sentence Quinn came back into frame and started yelling.

“HE WAS WHAT?” Quinn asked, shock and anger mixing into his voice. 

Luke mumbling the next part “yeah and I don’t know why but I looked towards the door after I saw, I made eye-contact with Y/N”

“Wait Y/N was there???” he questions.

“Yeah she wasn’t at first.She said she didn’t wanna go out but I guess Jack’s texts worked. Quinny as soon as our eyes met I could see the pain in them even from across the bar. I wanted her to not be in pain for long, so I went to Jack and pulled him off her. I told him he’s a fucking jackass, dumbass and all the asses and that Y/N was here. How she saw him, he needed to go fix it cause Y/N doesn’t deserve that shit.” Luke says shame filling his voice. 

“Oh Lukey.”  Quinn said, a mix of hurt for Y/N and maybe a little disappointment in his brother's actions. 

“Trust me, nothing you can say to me will be anything I haven’t already told myself. I fucked up by telling him. I should have gone after her myself and not let her drive home.” Luke refuses to look at the camera as the shame overtakes his body. 

“It’s not your fault okay, you thought you were helping her. So that’s it, he went after her and she told him to fuck off I’m assuming?”

“Well I stayed in the bar, I don’t know what happened for a long period of time but Nico ended up finally catching up to them. He told me what he heard, he said that Jack tried blaming Y/N for cheating because they weren’t really dating, they never used titles. I mean everyone knows that but-” Luke starts to rant but it’s cut short by his older brother.

“JACK DID WHAT OH MY GOD I KNEW HE WASN’T THE SMARTEST I DIDN’T KNOW HE WAS THAT MUCH OF IMBECILE.” He yells through the phone so loud Luke turns the volume down, he doesn’t want Jack to hear him telling Quinn.

“Yeah well I don’t know anything else, that’s all Nico said and that he cut Jack off from continuing. He also said that Y/N popped the fuck off and apparently it took everything in him not to give her standing ovation.” A breath leaving Luke’s lips somehow his chest feeling lighter than it has all day. “I felt sick when Cap told me so you're doing better than I am. Then again I was a little drunk. I did reach out to Y/N and apologized this morning. I felt like I caused that to happen.”

“No” Quinn cut him off sternly, not letting his youngest brother take any of the blame. “Yeah you might have told him she was there but I’m glad she was because she deserves better. Fuck I wish I didn’t agree to not reach out.” As Quinn pets his fingers on his temples, lightly massaging his slowly building headache that was forming. “Alright I won’t tell mom. She can find out from her son who created the mess. That’s not my problem. When am I allowed to talk to Y/N?Did she answer you this morning?” Quinn asks, finally opening his eyes and looking on the screen. 

“Yeah sort of, she said it was okay and it wasn’t my fault for Jack’s actions, but she also said she needed space from anything that reminds her of him.” Luke admits softly.

“See I told you she was too smart for Jack when we met her.She isn’t mad at you Lukey don’t carry guilt that isn’t yours. Was that the whole convo?” he asks,

“I told her I was always here for her but she only loved the message.” Luke softly admits, some of the guilt lifting after talking to Quinn.

“Alright, how many days till I can text her?” Quinn asked

Luke thought for a minute before saying, “Give it four days, Saturday our time in the morning.” 

“Fine..” Quinn agrees reductively. “Now down to why I texted the group chat, what the fuck are we gonna get Dad for his birthday?”  

——————————————————————————

It’s been exactly 3 days since your breakup with Jack. You silenced his texts along with phone calls so you couldn’t get the notification. You meant what you said when you told him goodbye, even though it has caused your chest constant pain, and be the reason you haven’t left your bed since. Today was Friday, the last day you had on that doctor’s note Anna got you. Still not sure exactly the extent of what she had to do to get it, but alas you were extremely grateful that she did. 

You allowed yourself to sleep in, somehow that felt more comforting than being awake. You finally woke up around noon and decided that the hunger in your stomach was greater  than your desire  to stay in bed. You decide to get up and throw something in the airfryer. You settled on the couch as your food was cooking, deciding what to watch. You spent most of your day just laying on your couch, in and out of sleep while the T.V. blared in the background. You heard your phone ringing and you decided to glance at who was calling to decide if you wanted to answer. 

You could feel your heart race speed up, your blood pressure go up and your stomach drop when you read who the call was from. “Mama Hughes” stared up at you. You even blinked a few times to make sure you were reading your phone correctly. But then noticed the time and date on your screen,  Friday night 6 PM. This is when Ellen always called you for your weekly check-in. It didn’t matter if Jack was home or not. She has called you every Friday at 6 since the first time you met her at the lakehouse this past summer you realized she probably doesn’t know what happened with Jack. Although, you could be mad at Jack and even ask Luke for space for a few days. You truly couldn’t allow yourself to not answer the call since she has always treated you with open loving arms that any mother would. After the week that you had you really craved the kind of love only a mom can give. You swiped to answer and put the phone to your ear, grateful it wasn’t your normal facetime call instead. 

“Hey” you speak with the most normal voice you can muster but you heard your voice crack and winced because there is no way Ellen didn’t hear it. 

“Hey Y/N, you don’t sound so well are you sick or are your allergies bothering you more today?” She asked concern laced in her voice, but before you could come up with an answer she added. “Hopefully Jack is taking care of you either way. It’s what you deserve dealing with Jack and Luke’s man colds” Letting a light chuckle out as she thought about how obnoxious they can be when they’re not feeling their best. 

You swallowed your throat before you opened your mouth. “No Ellen, um actually I have been just crying a lot so my throat is sore.” As you feel the silent tears steaming down your face at how fucked up it is that you have tell her what her son did. Now you’re regretting your decision to answer the phone because of how awkward the call was about to become. 

“Ohh sweetheart, why have you been crying? Is it because of work stress? Or all of Jack’s back to back roadies, you know he’ll be home soon love.’’ She said in a cooing comforting voice. You swear you can feel your heart break a little now. 

“No… um…. Jack and I got in a really bad fight this week.” You paused for a moment to try and think of how to word in the nicest way possible what happened. “Well it was a work night and he wanted me to go out with him, to Emmy’s birthday.”

Ellen cuts you off even though you can’t see her face. You know she furrowed her eyebrows now as listening to you. “That’s the girl Luke is dating right?” she asks, making sure she’s following the story correctly.

“Yeah I think they're dating… anyway I said I didn’t want to spend the night drinking cause I had work early the next day and he got mad. We both said some… not nice things and he left. I ended up deciding to just take him home with me after his texts from the bar and  a video Jesper  had sent me of him looking sad at the bar. But when I got there he….” You stop yourself, deciding if you really should continue telling the mother of the boy who broke your heart exactly how he did. You know Jack probably wouldn’t want his mother to hear about his love life in this detail.

“He what Y/N/N, it’s okay you can tell me. What did he do honey?” 

“I saw him with a girl… they were kissing.” your voice whispers on your last few words. 

“HE WHAT?” Ellen screamed, you had never heard her so…angry the whole year that you’ve known her. You assumed she muted the phone probably to try to collect herself. Which honestly, you were grateful for because you also muted your phone to let yourself to sob. You're not sure how long you both stayed on the phone, each of you on mute, but somehow it was still more comforting than being alone. You’re truly not sure how much time had passed until you heard Ellen on your phone call for you through your phone. 

“Hmm?” you let out.

“I am so sorry that I somehow failed to raise a decent human being. Have you spoken to him yet, did he know you were there? Not that it matters…. I honestly don’t wanna talk to him right now.” she said this in such a monotone voice, that you knew there was no way she wasn’t being honest at the moment. 

“Yeah… he followed me outside actually.. to say it was a dumpster fire wouldn’t do it justice… he told me he didn’t really cheat because he didn’t know we were together.” You say somehow some of the anger from that night is coming to you now that you were allowing yourself to think about it.

“wait Y/N we must be having a bad connection. You said he didn’t know you were dating?” the pure shock in her voice making you smile because you knew  by the sound of her voice that  she was questioning Jack’s actions. You allowed yourself to find comfort in that. 

“Yeah” your way of softly confirming her assumptions. 

“That’s it. I am booking a flight right now. I mean I can’t stomach looking at him right now. Actually, I guess I’ll book two tickets so Jim can come deal with his son.”  The emphasis on “his son” not slipping past you. You could hear Ellen yelling in the background.

“JIM…” She yelled it was obvious they weren’t close to each other at the house at the moment.

“WHAT?” He yelled back that you would hear footsteps in the background. 

“Get the suitcases from the garage for me. We’re going to Jersey on the next available flight!” she tells her husband you can hear the rush tone in her voice like she’s running around the house looking for something. 

“Why?” he asks curious

“Because your son fucked up more than ever before, Y/N needs me, and it would be nice to see Luke too.” Jim must have decided it wasn’t worth asking any more questions. 

“Ellen!” you say possibly a bit louder than intended but you needed to get her attention. 

“What?” she asks, coming closer to wherever she sets her phone down. 

“Please don't come, okay. I am fine plus I have a lot of errands I need to do this weekend. My apartment is a mess, I have work on Monday, and I don’t think I would be the best company right now.”  You say hoping that Ellen decides to not just fly to Jersey because someone who isn’t even blood was crying on a phone call. 

“Y/N hear me when I say this, you matter to me and this family minus Jack at the moment. I am not really claiming him at the moment.” You accidentally cut her off a chuckle escaping from your lips, Jack definitely got his attitude from his mom. “Okay.. I don’t care about your apartment, if you want I can stay at the door and we can just go to lunch. It’s good to get out of your apartment. Plus I would love to see Luke - the boys always claim I show him favoritism. Which I deny but he is definitely my favorite… my own little moose. Plus I already bought my tickets for this Sunday and I can’t cancel it because it’s too close to get a refund. So you will definitely see me this weekend.” 

You know there isn’t any convincing her otherwise, even if she didn’t already buy her tickets. You let out a deep sigh as you let out an “okay.” You quickly said your goodbyes and hung up.You glance at the time to see it’s almost 6:30 and decide you probably should cook a proper meal for yourself for the first time this week. Since you haven’t eaten since noon before your nap, only to realize you were out of everything in your apartment.

Jack’s POV

It had officially been three days since Jack felt he made the biggest mistake of his life. He tried to reach Y/N multiple times through text and calling, he knows she didn’t block him because it shows that she read them.. Luke has barely even glanced at Jack since Tuesday, which given that they live  together is impressive. Especially considering the fact both of them were on the same team and had multiple practices together since. Coach tried to talk to them today after practice about it because he finally became fed up after 2 practices. Luke is not one to be an asshole to any of the coaching staff so it was a shock to Jack when he heard the words out of Luke’s coach.

“Sir respectively, am I not still doing my job? In fact am I not doing it better than what some would refer to as my brother?” If it wasn’t for the fact that it was a dig at Jack himself, there is no way he could have stayed quiet with a roast like that. 

“EXCUSE me?” Coach asked. But it really wasn’t a question, it was a statement, a warning. 

“Okay sorry, but we’ve been fighting lately.” Luke mumbles out his excuse, but Jack was too busy looking at his skates. Wondering how they could get so much dirt on them when he played in an arena. 

“Jack sorry to interrupt whatever the fuck your looking at” Jack could sense the annoyance in Coach’s voice but he didn’t care to look up yet. “But do you have anything to add about this little “fight” y’all seem to have had and why the fuck it’s showing up on my rink!” Their Coach demands the last part, not leaving any room for interruption on how he was feeling about this situation, absolutely fucking pissed. 

Jack finally decides to look up and speak for the first time. “No coach. I am sorry. Luke was right I haven’t been playing myself, take me off the line if you want. Don’t punish Moos-” Jack almost let the childhood nickname slip out but he knew Luke wouldn’t want Jack to use it right now. “Don’t punish Luke for this. I deserve to sit out. -” 

Coach decided he couldn’t listen to any more of Jack’s shitty attempt at a speech that wasn’t giving him answers to anything he was asking.“ LISTEN HUGHES, BOTH OF YOU, I DON’T GIVE A FUCK WHAT YOUR FIGHT STARTED WITH AT HOME. BUT YOUR AT WORK, AT WORK YOU GOTTA BE PROFESSIONAL. YOU THINK I LIKE EVERYONE HERE -FUCK NO - BUT I STILL GOTTA SEE THEIR DUMBASSES EVERYDAY! Y'ALL ARE BROTHERS FIGURE IT THE FUCK OUT.” Luke and Jack glance at each other for the first time in days. For the first time in days, he felt a wave of hope. Maybe if Luke could look at him it means he could forgive him, and if Luke could forgive, of course his angel Y/N maybe could too. 

“You know she was important to me too. She was family and although she says nothing will change I know it will never be the same. I am pissed at you, pissed at you for hurting Y/N. But also pissed at you because for some reason that night I looked at you when you came back J, I felt so guilty for pointing her out to you, because of what Nico said he overheard. But I looked over at the bar, you just sat there like nothing fucking happened and that’s just wrong.”

Before I can respond, Coach cuts in “Wait this is about Y/N? I wouldn’t have thought Y/N would be the reason y’all would fight, I mean Jack haven’t y’all been dating for 6 months?” Obviously at this point just deciding to be fucking nosey. Luke didn’t mind as much as I did.

“OH MY GOD THANK YOU! THIS DUMBASS WENT AND KISSED A GIRL AND THEN BLAMED IT ON Y/N BECAUSE APPARENTLY THEY NEVER TALKED ABOUT BOYFRIEND GIRLFRIEND LABELS OR BEING IN A COMMITTED RELATIONSHIP!” Jack could have  sworn to God in that moment that he had never seen his Coach laugh so hard as he is right now. I mean the man had hands on his knees, tears in his eyes laughing at me. 

“Oh wow… Jack your fucked in the head if you really thought that.” Coach exclaims after his laughing fit.

“Coach, he didn't think so. He told her that and more.” Luke says smug now that someone else agrees with him that i messed up. 

“Oh son. Whoo I ain’t jealous of you boy.” and with that the Coach leaves the locker room leaving Luke and Jack by themselves. Since all the other boys had left earlier because he and Luke had to do 20 bag skates due to their “issues” with each other.

“You know I regret that entire day right? I - I fucked up Lukey and now -” For the first time in days Jack let himself think about her physically walking away from him.  Jack doesn’t cry often especially in front of people but the fact that it was just Luke he didn’t give a fuck. Jack let himself feel the pain that his own actions caused. It's what he felt he deserved. Jack fell into his bench and let his mind wander as it took him back to that night. He was so out of it he didn’t notice Luke kneeling down in front of him and put one of his hands on Jack’s knee trying to grab his brother’s attention.

“Hey.. Jack…okay” It’s like Jack’s ears were under water he could only hear every other word. His next thought made him spiral only deeper into the hole his ,ind created as he thought, ‘fuck did I make her feel like this.’

“JACK.” Finally Jack made eye contact with his brother. “Good, take a deep breath, you’re alright dude.” Luke stays like that, one hand on Jack’s knee, the other holding the back of his neck so his eyes don’t wander. Actually it took until that moment for Jack to realize that Luke’s other hand was on the nape of his neck.  “You alright?” Luke talks in a low voice even though they are the only ones in the locker room, somehow a louder voice would feel too loud in the moment.

“Yeah as good as I can be.” I answer in a rugged voice from just finishing crying. 

“Look I don’t hate you, you're my brother, but I am still mad at you okay? I just - I don’t know dude.” Luke says it like he’s thought about this in detail and yet still can’t wrap his mind around the events that took place. Jack thinks about if only Luke knew how bad the first fight of that day was, when he tried to call her a gold digger. Jack knew she was anything but that, yet he  couldn’t help this thought taking over his mind. He remembered she always put even a simple Starbucks coffee her order in on the app so that Jack couldn’t pay for it. How she would deny Jack’s venmo requests when he tried to shower her with money for her coffee that week or so she could buy that new pair of shoes she wanted. 

“I know” Jack mumbles but when he catches Luke’s eyes he can’t help but desperately ask his next question. “Have you talked to her?” The worry in Jack’s voice is almost as bad as the impulse to ask about her. This is the longest that Jack has gone without talking to her since the night they met. Jack was desperate to know how she was, he longed to go to her apartment and see her. Especially, since he hasn’t been able to sleep without sleeping pills because she’s not in his arms. 

“We texted the day after but I started it and it wasn’t long. I have no idea how she's doing but I also respect Y/N enough to not tell you because she wouldn’t want me to.” Luke spoke softly but matter-of-factly. He also didn’t want to make his brother emotional again, people always say Quinn is the most awkward with emotions but it was by far Luke. He struggled with his own emotions and shyness, when people showed raw emotions he felt frozen, wanting to help but not knowing where to begin. 

“Right, of course.. No problem Lukey.” Jack stood up and started taking his gear from practice. Slowly his anger built at the entire mess, but somehow it ticked Jack off more that Luke was siding with Y/N. But his heart and his soul has never been more grateful because if he couldn’t look out for Y/N at least his little brother was able to. 

“Alright I guess I’ll see you at home” Luke says as he heads for the shower, having already been half out of his gear before the coach made them stay to talk. 

“Actually I have some errands to run so I’ll catch you later.” Jack rushes out to stay as he decides to just change into sweats. 

“Jack.. promise me you aren’t going over there” Jack looks at Luke as his words process in his mind. Jack can see the fear in his brother's eyes and it makes his stomach hurt again.

“I promise I have errands to run. I need  go get some groceries and dry cleaners.''He turns around finishing packing his gear, sliding his car keys and wallet in his pocket. “Hey do you have anything you need from Trader Joe’s I might stop on the way home?” Jack quickly slides his sneakers on.

“Nah, I'm good. See ya at home I guess.” As he disappears behind the wall to shower. 

Y/Ns POV

You decided ultimately that you didn’t have any food in your apartment. because of your mood the last couple days, you’ve been ordering way too much Doordash and your bank account couldn’t financially support that continuing. You decided to  take your time getting ready to go to Trader Joe’s mostly because you have been in pj’s for an embarrassing amount of time. You made your way out of your house in jeans and some light makeup. Somehow getting dressed like a normal human helped your mood improve. 

By the time you made it to the grocery store across Newark you could see it was dusk and getting colder. The only hoodie you had in your car was Jack’s. you really didn’t want to wear his hoodie after everything, but you hated  the idea of being cold more, so you put it on. You hated the fact that it still smelt like him, but you loathed the fact the amount of comfort it brought you. Trying your best to ignore the smell of his cologne, You grabbed your wallet and reusable bags and made your way inside. You kept your hood up and a hat on, along with your sunglasses. Unfortunately living in this town and your relationship, sometimes you got recognized. The fans were wonderful, but the idea of running into any fans on your first outing out of your apartment made your stomach hurt. You grabbed a cart on your way in and put on your earbuds in. Jack always hated you putting both earbuds in, claiming that it wasn’t safe. You thought to yourself that’s the first positive thing you’ve come up with since everything happened. You smiled to yourself feeling like this trip was your first step of self healing. 

That was until you got distracted walking down the frozen isle looking at all the snacks looking for your favorite. Pushing your cart along you didn’t realize how close you were to the end of the isle and t-boned a cart. You were about to say a passing apology as you pulled your cart and they moved their cart forward. You knew that side profile from anywhere. You glanced up and The person you just happen to bump into with a cart on first trip out the apartment is no other than Jack Rowden fucking Hughes.

[missmarveledsblog]

The one ( Bucky barnes x reader odindotter)

summary : just the grumpy teddy bear bucky pinning after thor sister that's been there through everything  

warning: none , Bucky being a cutie , John walker being an ass , sam being the best wing man , mutual pining

One person , one singular person was all he wanted to see after it all . after the blip , the war against the mad tyrant and yet he was now staring at the face of a man he loathed , one who didn't deserve to hold the shield his best friend and brother had for a century. John walker stood an ego based attention hog who had the wrong morals and ideal that steve would generally cringe at . even with all this their was one person that occupied his mind , one that could truly make sense of all the craziness that he was now landed in. He walked as johns chest puffed out appearing to make himself so much bigger that he was , the words spilling from his mouth all bullshit and that thing he pass of as charm well a bag of rocks could do better and possibility even smarter . Bucky came to see her , knowing she was the only one that could truly understand what it is like to be in a place so alien and having those feeling of they didn't feel they belong in a sense. She could of been in new asgard with the rest of her people but she like this strange place. What made it funnier was he was actually of this planet and same time if someone told him it was mar or some shit he would actually believe them because still even after everything this didn't feel like earth . He watched her pretending to care , even the scowl of annoyance that grace her face that would of had loki proud. "So i think that why cardio is so important" john finished off the suggestable comment . " you know my brother would love to hear stuff like this" she smiled letting the poor mans hope rise. " although i find it all a bit boring more into the intellect of everything" her head tilted she had the man like a mouse on a string . " i mean yeah science of things but at the end of the day brawn defeat the brain" he chuckled . " i'm a goddess your brawn wouldn't tire me nor my brain" she rolled her eyes clearly done with the conversation scanning the room . " i bet i could tire you out" he winked . " the only way you could tire me out is too keep talking because it kinda putting me asleep" she fake a yawn before adding the stretching her arms to prove her point . " wow you really add to the bitchy princess stereotype" he scoffed. " oh little man i made it" she walked off eyes lighting up when she saw the man before her . " finally someone interesting" she called making the other man scoff.

It wasn't her intention to be bitchy maybe it was having loki as a big brother or the fact the man before her didn't know his ass from his elbow and yet he held something so important in his hands. She could of kept walking , ignored it and she was going to til his mouth opened once more. " really the killer" that sentence that made the fires of hel seem small to how it made her feel. " excuse me you back of the warehouse version of captain america , you wouldn't know the real downfall of earth or it's people . you hold that shield yet don't know one thing it represents nor the man that held it before you and yet you try cast you opinions on someone who went through so much and still stand before us today , if my father was alive he would agree that not one of us would have the same kind of heart and fight if we went through what that man has went through , all that pain and torture that would break you in a click of a finger" she snapped. " doll seriously it's ok" bucky said although someone should told his face with the smile having her defending him . " jame buchanan barnes and many other saved this whole universe and you dare try insult him , that shows you don't deserve that title you parade" she scoffed leaving john walker standing almost speechless . " hey little princess" sam called cutting bucky from speaking. " hello shall we leave or midgard will need a new captain" she smiled brightly . " actually we need your help" sam winked . " i feel like i should say no but lets go" she chuckled .

She sat on the ledge of helicopter watching the idiot well her favourite idiot fall to the ground and sam following after liking the new and improved wings. " you gonna jump out now?" torrez asked in awe and well slightly nervous giving who the woman is before him. " nah idiots forget i could of teleported us" she giggle before she was gone from his sight. Leaning over bucky as he lay out on the ground . " that was very stupid" she smiled holding her hand out. " well i mean i got down didn't i" he smirked back up at her. " your an old man it's quite dangerous" she laughed . " how old are you again" he shot back. " times different i mean in earth human years i'm only what twenty five" she tapped her chin . " wait so how old was loki when you know tried taking over earth " sam came to their side. " earth years sixteen" she walked off causing sam mouth to get louder at the new found knowledge . " your telling me grown ass loki , destroying new york with his alien ass army was 16 earth years old " . " yeah i mean time was something that many asgardians had to get use to being here" she shrugged. " i like it better when you where the thousand year old princess" bucky teased. " so you didn't feel like a creep my little pinning buck" sam whispered she heard it yet kept walking pretending to be oblivious to sam's constant teasing . " no but seriously loki was sixteen" sam asked making her roll her eyes . which led to her spending the rest of the time trying to explain the time differences and space and time which was probably a waste of her time as he began asking to convert their fellow avengers ages to asgardian . which then she used to tease him then turning it around. " so would it make you feel better after losing to parker" she smirked watching his face fall. " we didn't lose" bucky spoke up . " yeah redwing came in" sam added. " so redwing did, what you couldn't" she smiled. " no no now don't spin this" sam huffed. " well i mean you're so concerned with ages" she smiled. " here's me thinking you were sweet and soft like thor but your like loki" sam chuckled . " i mean me and loki did get to chat a lot , great teacher glad he left something behind " she smiled softly as sam realised his words . " shit i didn't , sorry really y/n" he began rambling . " it's ok really lets get going" she walked ahead only for bucky to slap sam at the back of the head. " bird brain, and stop with the remarks she finds out i love her well i'm screwed i love my best girl " he hissed.

Even after all this time it was so hard , so stressful and completely heartbreaking to even think of her brother . loki and thor was all she had after her parents life had perished and granted she still have thor but through everything knowing once and for all that loki was truly gone , well sometimes it can take longer for a heart to heal after so much loss especially when your not fully over the others before it. The rest of the trip it was like she was somewhere else from the taunts of zemo to the fake disguise of the winter soldier it seemed as though the whole thing was getting worse bringing back scars for them all to the surface. All mentally dealing with something that was bigger then themselves . all dealing with pressures or ghost of their own past . he could see in her eyes thinking of all they lost , close friends and family behind the eyes he could stare into all day . she been around through it all , from when steve found him the first and second time . the day he pulled him from the river when she promised to take care of steve , through the battle of the airport, on the run while he was in wakanda she stayed learning how they did it and being the friend he needed. To the war how she held them all up loss after loss , she lived through the blip trying to find a way to get them back , a way to stop the mad tyrant and he wonder in that time was he on her mind like she would of been on his if the role were reversed. She would give her all for those she loved and still felt like she needed to give more it was another reason to add to that ever growing list of why he loved her .

Then now here they were louisiana celebrating the new captain america , the right choice , the one he couldn't agreed more not that he would admit that out loud . although he wish sam would shut up about y/n odinsdottir . he didn't want to scare her off being his friend , the whole time when everything was wrapped up in a bow it's all the new cap could bring up . he watched her laugh and play with the children , how even thought the sun was shining her smile was even brighter . " you know instead of still doing the whole mean steamy stare you could actually do something about it" sam nudged him playfully as sarah looked to the two. " oh if you don't i will" she winked . then the laugh got louder as he watched her walking towards him eyes locked on his and that damn smile that made him melt like a puddle. Her hand coming to his face , cupping his cheeks before her lips on his . " you know i can hear you both no matter how much you whisper" she winked turning to walk off only to feel his hand to wrap in her pulling her flush to his chest . " and you left it til now cruel doll" he smirked leaning forward . " hey girl can only wait so long plus again it's not like i didn't give you chances all these years " batting her lashes leaning up to kiss him once more only for clash of thunder shot through the sky making them jump apart. " he got the girl , my man buck nasty got the girl" sam cheered . " he always had the girl" she kissed him once . the one he wanted to see the most was truly and finally his ,his peace and his girl. 

[whatthebodygraspsnot]

“I went to the gym, so I will be able to hold you up even longer” 🙌🏾🙌🏾🙌🏾

“I went to the gym, so I will be able to hold you up even longer” additional tags: (wrongly) assumed infidelity, miscommunication that gets resolved, this must be an au bc mickey would obv never interrupt his own sleep to leave the apartment

Mickey steps carefully into their apartment, taking great care to shut the door without being too loud. He closes it with barely a click. But nothing can prepare him for what happens next.

When Mickey turns, it’s like he’s stepped right into a 90s romantic drama, the single floor lamp clicking on to shine in a perfect spotlight, revealing where his husband is very much awake, and very much waiting for his return.

He’s sitting on the couch. Tucked up in his bathrobe and the most unimpressed frown.

“Fuck.”

“Who is he?”

Mickey glances from left to right. Behind himself. Looks at Ian again, his heart still pounding in his chest from the startle. “Who’s who?”

“Don’t gimme that.” And now Ian’s standing up, gathering his robe around himself as he prepares to fire off The Chin. “You disappear every night - yes, I noticed,” he states before Mickey can interrupt. “Bring a bag with you… Come home sweaty… I know you think you’re sneaky, but you’re fucking bad at hiding this, Mickey.”

It takes a second for everything to sink in. For the endorphins from the last couple hours to start pumping upward into his brain this time. 

And… Damn.

Ian caught him.

To be perfectly honest, Mickey thought he was getting away with this shit - was being real cagey and everything too - even getting a shower in before sliding back into bed with him.

“Two hours. That enough to meet up with him and do what you gotta do?”

Meet up with who? Yeah right. “You think I can get somebody out at this hour?” Mickey asks, his confusion starting to put him on edge. “Been doing this shit all on my own. Well-... I mean ‘cept for the other handful of guys who show up sometimes…”

And the way Ian’s eyebrows rise is almost as startling as how he stops in his tracks, repeating the words back to him with dragged out intensity. “‘Handful of guys’...?”

It’s got Mickey slugging his bag off his shoulder, the dramatics of it all really killing his high. “Christ, Ian. What’re you bein’ so bitchy for-”

“What am I being bitchy for.” There he goes again, repeating shit. Like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Mickey are you fucking serious?”

“Yeah - what - I was doin’ this shit for you, anyway. Thought you’d at least be excited about it.”

Oh. Fuck. Ian does not like that. “Excited?” Off comes the robe, in a flurry of angry movements. He’s running hot, and not in a good way. “Why the fuck would I be excited about my husband cheating on me!”

And it’s-...

He’s-...

Wait a second.

“What?”

“You thought you could go out every night and meet up with a ‘handful of guys’ and I’d be jumping for joy?” He sure is using air quotes like he’s having a good time with it, but no no no-

“What the-...” Mickey shakes his head, trying to clear the air because holy fuck, “I ain’t fuckin’ cheating on you, Ian - the hell?”

“You just said-” 

“Christ, you think I’m out bangin’ other dudes?”

“Wuh-...! You-...!”

Mickey rubs a hand over his mouth, everything suddenly making a whole lot of sense. The dramatics. The theater of it all. Ian was catching him coming home from the act, but ‘the act’ ended up being two very different things in their respective heads.

“Holy shit,” Mickey breathes out, going for his bag so he can put that thought immediately out of Ian’s head. “Look.”

He tugs the zipper open. Starts dumping out its contents on the floor right between them - his gym shoes - his old-ass iPod - a workout shirt - socks that stink so bad that they’re all he really needed to avoid all this. One whiff would’ve immediately made things clear.

But it’s enough now. Ian is slowly putting all the pieces together, the worry in his brow evening out and his chin returning to normal pointedness. Finally.

“You…” you says, hope returning. “You’ve been…going to the gym…?”

Mickey gestures to the pile of clothes in between them, his tone evening into something honest. “Yeah, man. Thought you wouldn’t notice once you knocked out…”

Ian eyes over everything one more time. Then slowly, his lips pull into a small pout, those eyes flicking away. “I notice every time you’re not in bed.” ‘Bitch.’ He wants to add it so bad. Mickey can practically see it trying to break through.

But he doesn’t. And there’s something so sheepish and honest and vulnerable about it, that Mickey can’t help but smile, peace returning as he stuffs his clothes and shoes back into his bag. “Fuck would I ever cheat on you for, ya dummy?”

A beat passes. Thoughts lingering. “I dunno… I just thought-...” 

“Well stop.” It sure makes a lot of sense, though. Now that he sees it through that lens. Fuck, he’d probably think the same thing if their roles were switched. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to getchya all riled up…”

“S’okay…” Ian watches as Mickey gets himself sorted. Still has a lot of questions trying to get out - he can tell. And it starts with this one. “What do you mean you were doing this for me?”

It’s the correct one - right away. And Mickey’s glad he asked, actually. Because if he must know…

The floorboards creak beneath his shoes as he steps up into Ian’s space, his muscles warmed up and ready enough to finally show off his skills. 

And when he does it - when he wrangles his giant-ass husband in and hauls him up until he's got those thick thighs straddling his waist, Ian’s startle and wide eyes say it all as Mickey slots him up against the wall - all two hundred pounds - keeping him held up in his arms.

“Been goin’ to the gym so I can lift ya,” he preens, impressed with his own strength.

Because he’s been working for this moment. For the look of sheer shock in Ian’s eyes from the rush of it - how it simmers into delight and pride and something much, much steamier the longer he holds him up.

And damn, that little breathy, impressed laugh that huffs out between them. “Fuck, Mick…”

Oh yeah. This is what all that 2am weightlifting has been for.

“You like that, huh?” Mickey grins, the atmosphere shifting familiar and fun - heavy in a good way. “This do it for ya?”

From his arms, Ian nods, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he takes a second to eat Mickey up with his eyes, those big arms wrapping around the back of his neck. 

He probably thought he was doing a decent job at hiding how hot he gets with this - when Mickey can make him feel small and moveable. 

They’re both absolute dogshit at keeping secrets, it turns out.

[ send me a smutty one-liner ]

[monsterblogging]

So, it finally clicked that while the average person does in fact broadly comprehend that people are neither good nor evil - they're good and bad, and have free will - they also can't understand why some people would fully commit themselves to completely awful causes or to being a terrible person throughout their entire lives. They can't really picture how this works, because they can't imagine themselves choosing to die on a hill of Being A Terrible Person.

This void in their comprehension is where the myth of the Ontologically Evil Person is very likely to come and settle in sooner or later, because it seems to finally provide an answer that makes sense of otherwise senseless cruelty and violence. Agonizing questions like "Why would my boyfriend spend so much energy on making me feel like shit and breaking me down?" "Why would this historical figure decided to kill all of these people?" and "Why would this guy go start a cult and murder everyone?" are finally given an answer, and the formerly-bewildered person finally has some peace of mind.

Because of this, the myth of the Ontologically Evil Person is incredibly hard to get out of people's minds once it takes root. For one thing, bad ideas are like bad habits; it doesn't really work to tell people to Just Stop With Them, because without something else to take its place? They're going to fall back on it.

And if somebody's been traumatized from abuse? The last thing they want to hear is that they're basically dehumanizing their abuser and that's not cool, because it feels to them like the other person is taking their abuser's side and telling them to get fucked. Even if this not what's happening, the survivor's brain is currently operating on fight/flight/fawn/freeze mode, and a brain operating fight/flight/freeze/fawn mode is keyed to making snap decisions to try and remove you from the danger as soon as possible, which means categorizing everything into black and white. This person couldn't care less about the history of eugenics right now; literally all they care about is being safe.

"Okay, so if the Ontologically Evil Person doesn't exist, how the hell do you explain those fuckers over there?" some of you are probably asking.

Here's the deal. Literally every human being alive can and will do terrible things if they're sufficiently scared and desperate. They're in no position to appreciate that nearly all asshole behavior can be explained by a lack of critical social and self-management skills, or by a lack of access to self-improvement (including being too traumatized to trust means of self-improvement).

People who are scared, insecure, and under high levels of stress will often cling to anything that makes them feel better, because they want to feel safe and secure and not in psychological and/or physical agony. (Stress does an absolute number on your body, too.)

Being reliant on a shitty behavior, belief system, or product for some measure of feeling secure and safe is how you get people saying things like "If I didn't act mean, everyone would just walk all over me!" or "I was really depressed before I found this, so if I gave it up I'm going to get depressed again, and I might hurt myself." (And there might be some truth to this one! This might indeed happen if they give it up cold turkey, and without finding an alternative!) It's how you get people conducting """scientific""" studies to """prove""" that their bigotry is totally justified and not at all irrational. ("Well of course these people are genetically inferior, they wouldn't be poor and disease-ridden if they weren't... what do you mean, systemic inequality and uneven healthcare access? No that's obviously fake and made up by More Bad People.")

People also act in unhealthy ways to deal with personal insecurities implanted by parents or society. You have people out there whose parents drummed it into their heads that second place was for worthless losers, or that no one would love them if they didn't look or act a certain way. You have people who absorbed the idea that acknowledging the basic humanity of shitty people means that they have to forgive them and personally help them get better and just suffer through the abuse in the meantime.

This is how people choose to die on the hill of Being A Terrible Person. They weren't ontologically evil. They were scared, and they thought they saw a fortress on the top of that hill that would keep them (and perhaps also their loved ones) safe.

[brbsoulnomming]

Tell Me Sweet Little Lies Part 9

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | AO3

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Eddie's not sure how long he's been sitting there when the sound of footsteps approaching breaks through, and he hears Steve's quiet little, "hey."

"They pick you to go check on the new guy, make sure I'm not freaking out?" Eddie asks without looking up.

"Are you freaking out?"

Eddie doesn't know. He's not sure why it's this, of all things, that has made him need to step back - he likes to think he's been handling all this Upside Down shit pretty damn well so far, aside from the running and cursing and panicking. It doesn't make sense that this is the thing that finally makes the buzzing in his chest grow too loud.

"Thank you," he says instead of answering. "You didn't - you didn't have to do that."

He thinks Steve might point out that yeah, he kind of did, that they have a world to save and they can't do that if the noble minded citizens of Hawkins are determined to hunt down a party member and thwart their efforts.

"I know," Steve says instead, and that makes Eddie look up at him.

Steve shrugs one shoulder. "None of us have to do any of this, you know? There's like, a hundred moments that every one of us could have said nah, fuck this. But we all chose to be in this, to keep going."

"Not me," Eddie says, even as his brain is telling him to shut the hell up and let the cute boy keep saying us like Eddie chose to be a part of this. Like he isn't a coward riding on all of their coattails. "I run, Steve, that's what I do. You think if I had any real choice, if I had anywhere else to go, I wouldn't be gone already?"

Steve wrinkles his nose at him. "What was it that you said Dustin was asking you to do? Come with us to Mordor? Pretty sure I heard you say yes."

"Yeah, because the Shire was burning!" he says. "Not exactly a great choice, to stay with the Hobbits and burn or follow the Fellowship into Mordor."

Steve gives him a crooked smile and a steely little gaze. "No one stays in a burning building, Eds, that's not a real comparison."

His throat works as he tries to swallow without swallowing his tongue, and he tries very hard to focus on what Steve is saying and not on exactly how Eds makes him feel.

"There's three kinds of people when somewhere's burning - there's the ones that started it, the ones trying to stop it, and the ones getting as far away from the first two as possible. You had plenty of options to be the last, but you picked the second."

"What options?" he demands, aware that he's sounding a little hysterical. "No car, no money, no where to go, cops and crazy townies looking for me, what else was I supposed to do?"

Steve rolls his eyes. "Yeah, sure, fine, when you were alone. But then you had us. You could have asked us to call your uncle to bail you out, you could have asked to be dropped off out of town, hell, you could have stolen the camper and said all right, this is your stop, see you guys later."

Eddie rears back, stung. "You think I'd do that? That I'd just take the camper and leave you guys all to it?"

Steve throws up his hands, exasperated, and Eddie feels a flare of concern when he notices the way Steve's eyes tighten in pain before he lowers them down.

"No!" Steve protests before Eddie can say anything about it. "Of course I don't, that's exactly my point! You could have left us, but you didn't. You made that choice."

Eddie's jaw snaps shut with an audible click as he realizes that he can't protest both things - can't insist that of course he never would have left them and say that he'd be gone if he had any real choice in the matter.

"Fuck you, Harrington," he says instead, aware that he sounds mulish and defensive but unable to stop himself. "It doesn't really count as options if all of them are bad."

Steve looks at him, unimpressed. "Now you're just moving the goalposts."

It's Eddie's turn to roll his eyes at that. "Stop making everything about sports."

"I will when you all stop making everything about Dungeons and Dragons," he replies without missing a beat, then drops down to sit next to him. "Give yourself a break. You're not the only one who's ever run."

Eddie snorts. "Yeah? Who?"

"Me."

Eddie turns sharply, but Steve isn't looking at him, staring out into the woods instead.

"You?" Eddie demands. "Mister I have to be the one to jump in the creepy lake to find the gate to hell for nonsense reasons?"

"They weren't nonsense," Steve protests. "And yeah, come on. I know you thought I was a douchebag before all of this, how are you surprised?"

"I never said douchebag," Eddie mutters, as if that's the point.

"I was a douchebag. So yeah, I ran." He pushes his hand through his hair. "I went to Jonathan's, when he and Nancy were trying to lure a demogorgon in to take it out. Had no idea what the fuck was going on, only that there were weapons everywhere and they were both bleeding and Nance pointed a gun at me. One of those things showed up, and they freaked, and I freaked, and they told me to get the hell out, and I did."

Eddie can't stop staring at him, and Steve has to notice, but he just keeps looking out into the woods.

"Made it as far as my car, freaking out so bad I dropped my keys, and then I looked back at the house and saw the lights flashing and I knew they were both in there, and…"

He trails off.

"And the paladin was born," Eddie murmurs.

That makes Steve look at him, finally, brows furrowed. "Come on, man, no. Dustin's been trying that, he says he's still got a sheet for one of them all worked up for me. I'm not playing any time soon."

Eddie waves a hand. "Not a character, Steve, I'm talking about real life. You're a real life paladin."

Steve lets out a little huff. "Whatever. The point is, I ran the first time, too. And I ran after - I tried to put it all behind me, to pretend like it was over and done with and we could just move on. It wasn't until later that I realized I wasn't ever going to be able to just step aside." He gives a wry little laugh, a roll of his eyes. "Not when this crew's determined to never stay on the bench."

"So you just. Always put yourself between danger and whoever it's coming for?"

Steve frowns at him. "Well, yeah. Someone's gotta protect all these little shits when they go barreling into trouble, and as long as I have a say in it, that someone's gonna be me."

Eddie groans. "You're making it really hard for me not to point out the paladin similarities, Harrington."

"Shut up," Steve says, giving him a little shove, but he doesn't sound like he actually minds it. "I'm not a - whatever."

"No? You're not a white knight, charging into battle to protect women and children and one dumbass freak in the wrong place at the wrong time?" Eddie drops out of his crouch, landing with his ass on the grass as he leans back to bat his eyelashes at Steve. "Come on, Steve, take a little credit for being our hero, you know you want to."

"You're so ridiculous." Steve rolls his eyes. "It's just better me than them."

And Eddie - he's not sure he likes that. Robin's he does this every time echoes in his mind, and his eyes narrow as he searches Steve's expression. "Fuck, is this some self sacrificial bullshit? Do you just have a death wish?"

"It's not like that. Trust me, I'm not looking to sacrifice myself, and I'm really not eager to kick the bucket before I'm twenty. It's just…"

There's no sting of writing on his skin. Eddie chooses to believe that means it's not a lie, for the sake of his own sanity, and he stays quiet while he lets Steve figure out how to explain what it's just.

"It's just when you're making a play, you have to be tactical about it, right? You have to think about your opposition, know what the other team's bringing to the game. You have to take everyone on your team into account - what are their skills and strong points, what are their weaknesses, who do you play together so they cover each other. I know what my strengths are. I know what I bring into this team and what I don't, and right now? I'm our heavy-hitter. I can dish it out, and I can take a hit better than anyone else here."

He does this every time.

Eddie wants to protest, to demand to know why it always has to be Steve, but he remembers the quiet resignation in Robin's voice, and he gets the feeling it's a conversation they've already had. Not that that would necessarily stop him from repeating it, of course, but - he doesn't really know how to counter that. Steve hadn't sounded self depreciating, hadn't sounded like he thinks he's worth less than everyone else here - though Eddie's not sure that isn't mixed in there, somewhere. He'd just… sounded practical.

Strategy. No different from when he was captain of whatever the hell sport he was playing at the time, this is what I'm good at, this is what I do.

"You're good at this, aren't you?" Eddie asks slowly.

Steve quirks a wry smile. "Good at getting beat up and still going? Yeah, I've had some practice."

Eddie shakes his head. "No, good at this. Strategizing. Thinking about people's strengths and weaknesses and how to make them work together."

"Oh. I mean, yeah, I guess I'm okay? Not strategizing like-" He waves a hand at the other side of the camper, back where Eddie assumes everyone else is still moving forward with things. "But I've always been good at the people thing. Rob likes to remind me of that, tells me to use it for good."

Like today. Eddie's throat clicks as he swallows, looking at Steve. "What would you do, against Vecna?"

Steve looks thrown, like he has no idea how this conversation got here and what he's supposed to do with it now.

Eddie knows the feeling.

"We already did the only thing I wanted to add to it," Steve says.

"Not add," Eddie says. "Forget our current plan, okay? Clean slate. New, uh. New play, new game, same opponent."

Part of Eddie wants to die a little at the words that just came out of his mouth. The bigger part wants to die even more at the begrudging realization that they could fit a campaign just as easily as they could a sports game.

But the biggest part wants to see where this is going. Wants to poke and prod at Steve, to make him think in a way that it sounds like everyone in this party except Robin has been overlooking.

It's one of his favorite things about DMing. Watching what his players come up with, nudging and encouraging them, and being absolutely gobsmacked by their creativity and strategy.

Steve actually looks like he's considering it, like he's not just brushing Eddie off. "I'd still do Nance's plan," he says finally. Then, almost reluctantly, he adds, "But I'd wait."

"You'd wait?" Eddie prompts.

"Yeah. I'd stall as long as we could. I figure the longer it goes, the more desperate - or at least irritated - Vecna gets, maybe he'll slip up, make some mistakes. But mostly I'd stall as long as we could for El."

"Who's El?"

Steve smiles, bittersweet. "El's a great kid with too much on her shoulders. But in all this? She's our real heavy-hitter. She's major league, and I'm back playing t-ball."

Eddie leans forward, starting to see the shape of things. He can see why the little shits keep using D&D terminology to explain what's going on. It's a campaign, he reminds himself, and if he keeps thinking of it like that, it's not as terrifying. "How do you stall?"

"What? El doesn't even have her powers anymore!"

Eddie startles at the interruption, heart pounding and nerves on edge - out of the corner of his eye, he sees Steve do the same, hand jerking to the ground like he's reaching for a weapon he doesn't have.

"Don't do that!" Steve demands, even as he's already relaxing.

It's Henderson, Eddie knows that before he even turns to see that he and Robin have come around to their little side of the camper - he recognizes that tone exactly from their campaigns, when the little butthead is protesting another player's plan of action.

Eddie shoots him an icy, pointed glare - also exactly the same as he would do if someone had interrupted him in the middle of a session.

Dustin glances back and forth between them, withering at the combined force of both of their unimpressed expressions. "Not that I'm saying it's a bad idea. Just! I need a little more info here, okay?"

"It's not about her powers, not exactly. It's-" Steve makes a frustrated noise, and looks over at Robin, doing something complicated with his expression.

Robin immediately takes over. "Max doesn't have powers, right? But we're letting her go up against Vecna in her mind anyway, because she's the best equipped to handle it."

Steve snaps his fingers. "Yes! El has the most experience with the lab and the Upside Down. She's got the home team advantage, and she's used to bopping around in people's minds. Her and Will would be even better. We stand a better chance with them."

Dustin's looking at Steve in a way that Eddie recognizes, just a little - a dimmer echo of the way he'd always lit up when he insisted that Steve was a badass. "Okay," he says, dropping down to sit next to them. "How would you stall?"

Steve looks back and forth between Eddie and Robin. "I'd talk to Max. See how she's feeling, how strong Vecna is, if the tape's getting weaker, how long she thinks it can last. If she can sense any changes in Vecna. We keep checking in, keep it up as long as we can, and have her try to get a message to El."

"I'm in," Max says, plopping down to wedge herself into their group.

Eddie only screams a little.

Steve looks at her, his absolutely not face already in full swing.

"Don't look at me like that, this is your plan," she tells him.

"Hypothetical! This is all hypothetical!" Steve makes a chopping motion with his hand, like he's cutting it off there. "Max, the longer we wait, the more danger you're in."

She gives him the most unimpressed look that Eddie's ever seen. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure I'm going to be the most in danger by inviting him into my head to chase me around and hope I can hide well enough for you guys to kill him before he kills me. I'd much rather have El here for all of that, thanks."

If Eddie didn't know better, he'd think he saw the faintest wobble in her eyes, or maybe her tone.

Steve goes the softest that Eddie's ever seen him. "Maxie," he starts.

She kicks his knee before he can get more than that out.

"Hey!" he yelps. "Fine, whatever, okay, but we need everyone to agree. And you have to promise me that you'll tell us the truth about how you're feeling. We have to know any change, and I mean any change."

"I promise," she agrees easily.

Dustin, Robin, and Steve all share a glance. Eddie's - not actually sure how they manage it, but it makes Max huff in irritation.

"I promise. You can even use stalker as a lie detector." She jerks her head back towards the other side of the camper. There's a moment of silence, then she rolls her eyes. "I don't care if Munson knows who my soulmates are."

Soulmates, plural, and she already knows who they are? Eddie's stomach clenches a little, wondering once again what these kids have gone through that was so intense that Max'd found her soulmates before she even hit high school.

"So how do I send a message to El?" Max asks.

Steve rubs a hand over his jaw, pinching the bridge of his nose. "All right, let's get everyone back together, then."

They catch Nancy, Lucas, and Erica up in quick, terse sentences - Nancy looks irritated at the suggestion of delaying the plan, and Lucas keeps shooting little worried glances at Max, like he wants to protest, too, but knows Max well enough to know it won't do much if she's set her mind to it.

"I promise to let you guys know the second there's any change, and to answer any question you ask about it directly and immediately," Max dutifully repeats after some prompting.

Only then does Lucas relax.

"Come on, Steve, how do I get a message to El?" she asks again.

Steve quirks a little smile. "You tell us a lie."

There's a second before Eddie figures out what he's saying, and then he's pretty sure he stops breathing.

"You say something like 'I don't want to tell my soulmate that an evil clock obsessed wizard is out to get me, and I don't want her and her brothers to get their asses back to Hawkins immediately.'"

Dimly, Eddie hears a round of sharp inhales, and he's pretty sure he's not the only one staring at Steve anymore.

"Holy shit, Steve," Dustin says, sounding impressed.

"You sure that'll work?" Nancy asks.

"Yeah," Steve says. "I used to do it with my soulmate all the time when we were younger, so, uh. Technically you can thank them for the idea."

It's him, fuck. It has to be. His soulmate has to be Steve, there's no other -

"Yeah," Robin agrees, spreading her hands like me too.

And all right, okay, so Eddie wasn't the only one to think of trying to talk to his soulmate like that, he kind of figured that. But this is still way too many coincidences, shit, there's no way his soulmate isn't Steve goddamn Harrington, and what is he supposed to do with that?

Still, at least Robin solved his problem of how to agree with Steve without making it obvious that he might be Steve's soulmate.

"Me too," he manages to say. "It'll work."

Max nods, jaw working as she thinks for a moment - then her gaze shoots over to Lucas. He scoots over to sit next to her, and she barely has time to look back at Steve before Steve's dropped down to sit in front of her. Dustin takes up a spot on her other side at the same time, and she lets out a slow exhale.

The three of them were with her when she - when Vecna tried to get to her, Eddie remembers, and he fidgets with his rings to hide the way his hands shake as he tries not to think of how Chrissy'd looked right before she died.

"It helps if you're having a conversation with someone, and you think about your phrasing and say things you know are lies," Steve offers.

Exactly like Eddie'd pictured his soulmate doing. Yeah, fuck, okay, that's a great way to think about something else, but not something he really wants to think about, either.

"So, Mad Max!" Dustin says brightly. "How's your day going?"

"I'm not in danger," Max responds, which - blunt, yup, that should do it, even if it makes Eddie wince.

"Yeah, what's there to be in danger from?" Lucas asks.

"I'm not being targeted by something from the Upside Down."

"That's good, because how would we stop something like that?" Steve chimes in.

"We don't think we know his plan," Max says, then her eyes close. "I don't need my soulmates. I don't want El to come back to me, right now."

They all pretend they don't hear the tremor of emotion in her voice.

There's a tense silence for a little while.

"It took a little while for me to be able to respond, if I wasn't expecting it," Robin says, low and anxious. "I mean - I didn't respond much, because it freaked me out, but when I did."

"Same," Eddie says. "I sprung it on mine probably too much, and I usually didn't get an answer right away."

He doesn't look at Steve. Then he realizes - shit, he can't make it obvious he's not looking at Steve, so he darts his gaze over to him.

Steve only has eyes for Max, though, and Eddie feels a little bit relieved.

Eventually, Max jolts, and rolls down her sock. Scrawled across her ankle is I don't have my powers back. I don't think my soulmate should wait. I'm not coming.

So they wait.

Taglist (hopefully I got everyone, and always happy to add more!): @vampireinthesun @koibug @estrellami-1 @mentalcyborg @allbimyself26 @questionablequeeries @the-s-is-silent @whimsicalwitchm @a-gae-af-racoon @tinyplanet95 @n0-1-important @velocitytimes2 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @newtstabber @jcmadgirl @roblingoblin285 @lexyvey @paperbackribs @goodolefashionedloverboi @evix-syne666 @raisedbylibrarians @stxrcrossed186 @nightmareglitter @greekgeek24 @starman-jpg @crazyhatlady86 @affablevixen @imfinereallyy @manda-panda-monium @deleataecount @prideandsensibility @chaoticvictorianspirit @maydillydally @disrespectedgoatman @scarlet-malfoy @i-less-than-three-you @hbyrde36 @hallucinatedjosten @dragonsandgayships @arepaconchocolate @g4ys0n @novelnovella @bisexualdisastersworld @ghostofyourvampiregf @scarletyeager @pettrichore @nerd-and-nervous @hiimlevi @queenie-ofthe-void @cinnamon-mushroomabomination

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Part 10

[imdead770]

Saw you needed some requests!

How about childhood friends to lovers with Steve! (Randle) I love him so much and I don't think I've ever seen this promt for him thank you!! 💜

Steve Randle x Reader - Childhood Friends

Authors Note - I've never written anything like this, but here goes nothing. Enjoy.

• So, Steve's not the smartest, but he knows when he likes someone.

• He knew he liked you ever since you gave him a blue crayon in first grade.

• You two met in elementary school, and somehow you managed to put up with him throughout the years

• Somehow your personalities just clicked

• You two are practically joined at the hip

• Like your friends would ask to meet up and Steve would just be there

" Hey, you wanna go hang out?"

"Yeah, that sounds fu-"

"I'm comin' too!"

"How the fuck did you even get here!?"

• There was one moment when Steve realized he was attracted to you like that

• He always knew he liked you, but there was one moment where he was like "Oh shit, she's hot."

• That's whenever they had a pool party for all the freshmen.

• So he came with most of the gang, you came with your friends

• And whenever he saw you in your bikini, his jaw dropped

• When the fuck did that happen??

• Last time he checked you were in the kiddy pool with floaties on your arms

• Sure you had always been pretty, but holy shit

• The first time you realized you were smitten with him was whenever he came to you after a rumble

• His nose was busted, he had a black eye, he looked like shit.

• But for some reason, that's when it clicked.

• You were just cleaning up the blood when your brain suddenly realized

'holy shit I like this dumbass-'

• Yet neither one of you ever said anything.

• Literally everyone thinks you two would be a great couple

• I mean, it's obvious he's head over heels for you

• Only problem is that neither of you want to ruin this perfect, amazing friendship

• I mean you two have literally done everything together

• You learned to ride a bike together, you learned to read together, all of it.

• You practically share parents at this point.

• So Steve's over here like

"I dunno man, she's way out of my league"

• And you're over here all

"It's not like he likes likes me, he talks to me about all these other girls.."

• Both of your friend groups are trying to slap some sense into the two of you

• Like Steve has literally punched a guy for you??

• And you pulled a clump of hair off a girl's head for him once??

• So why are you both so fucking stupid?? It's right there??

• Eventually someone finally convinced Steve

• Probably Sodapop.

"I'm tellin' ya' Steve, she likes ya'."

"Fine, fine, I'll ask 'er."

• He had to hype himself up for a good week or two.

• Eventually he decided to tell you.

• So here you two were, hanging out and watching some romance movie that he strategically put on

"I thought you hated romance?"

"I dunno, it was in clearance."

• And since Steve is super smart, during a make-out scene he decides

'Yeah, she'd love that.'

• He thinks it's the smoothest thing ever.

"Y'know, we could be kissin' like that right now.."

• He's internally patting himself on the back, damn he was smooth.

• You look at him, thinking he's joking

• I mean you two jokingly flirt all the time, how's this any different

• But he's dead serious.

• As serious as Steve can be, at least.

"You wanna?"

• His jaw dropped right then and there.

• Yeah, he thought it was smooth, but he didn't think it was that smooth.

• He thought you'd slap him or something.

• And before he knows it, you're kissing him.

• Holy shitttttttt

• The only time he was this happy was when his boss brought chocolate cake to his night shift at DX

• You're over here screaming inside

• Because 'holy shit I'm kissing him, holy shit, holy shit-"

• Whenever you both pull away, Steve's smiling like a dumbass

• You're smiling right back at him

"Ya' got a boyfriend?"

• You just snicker, shaking your head

"Ya' want one?"

• The rest is history.

• Whenever he told the gang the story they all just shrugged

"You ain't happy for me or nothin'?"

"I mean yea, we are, but it was kinda obvious"

"We all knew you were gonna get 'er eventually, Steve."

• Once you started dating your relationship basically stayed the same

• Except you make out way more

• And now he can check you out without having to be all discreet

• Sodapop still brags that he's the reason you two are together

"I should be a matchmaker or somethin'.."

"I was gonna tell her without ya', Soda"

"You ain't gotta lie to me, Stevie. This is a safe space."

• All in all, you two are perfect together

• Like I said, somehow you two get along seamlessly.

• That movie you two watched 100% became Steve's favorite movie, by the way.

[glacierclear]

im sorry i need to dump all my thoughts about ada x leon somewhere for personal fulfillment reasons,

big disclaimer: resident evil canon/lore is inconsistent and my feelings/thoughts on all this is NOT me stating it as fact. It's 99% speculation and me interpreting context. I'm just having fun!

it's really wild that i started my resident evil experience hating Ada. I did not understand her character and the way she's portrayed is very inconsistent and confusing (probably on purpose) and, like many others, I assumed the choices she made and the pain she inflicted on others was malicious and intentional.

But something clicked recently,,,I understand now that she didn't choose this life. She doesn't WANT to be a spy. She doesn't WANT to be a mercenary. Everything she was and everything she had was taken and stripped from her. She doesn't even have a real name anymore. I think seeing the small insight of her backstory in the biohazard manga really put all the pieces together and brain blasted me with understanding. Her entire character (to me, at least!) revolves around survival and self-preservation. She is a SELFISH character, not because of ego or power, but because of a LACK of power. She no longer has autonomy over her life in a way that matters and so the only thing left for her is to stay alive.

And I just think that ties so beautifully with Leon's struggles. Both of them being forced into this life where they have to live and die at the hands of the people who control them. And, listen...listen...it's overdramatic as fuck and a VERY idealistic/romanticized interpretation of their relationship, but honestly it makes me hella emotional thinking about Leon potentially being one of the few things in life Ada wants to live for other than herself. Him being the only person in the entire series who has ever shown her genuine, selfless kindness and care,,, and the fact that her circumstance and the trappings of her life forced her to betray him and she has to live with that guilt and has to come to terms with the fact that she will never genuinely connect with people because who even is she anymore? She has no sense of self.

And her entire campaign in RE6 resonates me in such a weirdly poignant and impactful way. RE6 has some WONKED UP writing and it's so silly and stupid; but I think if it was tweaked a little bit it would be a genuinely moving story about a woman losing her agency and bodily autonomy to a violent man who wants to own her and her fighting with his fabricated, demented vision of her. It's a manifestation of his greed and possession...and then she kills her clone and immediately after she sees Leon again and his first immediate instinct is to protect her and sacrifice himself again for her and throw himself into MORE bullets for her even after the betrayal of RE2 ........ and then after that she finally snaps and FINALLY chooses to fight for HER morals and HER justice by killing Simmons' bioweapon.

Like, listen, I hate the trope of "woman traumatized being saved by a man" in most cases, but something about the way I see Leon and Ada just makes SENSE man.

The fact that she specifically goes out of her way COUNTLESS times to protect him and save him and none of it is enough to get him to forgive her. None of it will ever be enough but she keeps trying anyways. Like, damn, his entire mission is Spain is only possible because Ada saved his ass like...four times??? And you can make reasonable arguments that she doesn't care about him he's only important for her mission, and to be honest I think that interpretation is also valid, but for me personally I just think she cares about him so much but it's in his best interest to continue believing she doesn't care.

And I just want them to be happy. But it will probably never work out between them, just due to everything...they can't escape their lives. They're both kept alive by two opposing morality systems. Leon's guilt and unyielding need to fight for truth and innocence and to protect everyone he's lost and everyone who depends on him. And Ada to hold onto herself and what whittling remains of self-identity and independence she still has when it was all taken from her, even to the point of someone making a damn clone out of her.

Man I just love them so much I'M SO EMOTIONAL!!!!!!!

[herrmannhalsteadproduction]

Fine is a Four-Letter Word (Chapter Four)

Summary: This is Part Twenty-Two of my series A Herrmann/Halstead Production. It is an AU where Christopher Herrmann's mom had an affair with Pat Halstead resulting in a baby. The series follows this OC character (Rebecca "Bex" Herrmann) as she grows up and gets to know her brothers and the various Chicago teams. It is very much an AU, just to underscore that. It doesn't follow the same timeline and characters will follow different paths.

Click here for the Series Rundown where you can find the links to read all of the previous installments (which I highly recommend you do so that this one makes sense.)

Rating: Mature

Relationships: Christopher Herrmann & Original Female Character, Jay Halstead & Original Female Character, Will Halstead & Original Female Character, Jay Halstead & Will Halstead, Greg 'Mouse' Gerwitz/Original Female Character, Will Halstead/Connor Rhodes, Assorted OC Couples

Warnings: Injury Recovery, Trauma Recovery, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Protective Siblings, Family Feels, Team as Family, Road Trip, Kissing, Romance, Mild Sexual Content, Swearing, Eventual Happy Ending

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three

Chapter Four

A few hours earlier…

***

Chris

“Thanks for fitting me in, Doc,” Chris said, shifting on the couch as he took in the familiar space of Dr. Peters office. He hadn’t been in a few weeks, reducing their visits once he’d finally felt like he had his feet back under him since the Freddy incident.

But then…well.

He’d called yesterday to see if he could make an emergency appointment and they’d been good enough to get him in today. Just enough time between checking on Bex and stopping in at the hospital to make it work.

“It’s not a problem, Chris,” Dr. Peters said and sounded like he actually meant it. Chris liked that about the guy. He was genuine. Made it feel less like he was talking to a shrink.

“Why don’t you tell me what prompted your call.”

…maybe only a little bit less. Chris chuckled to himself before scrubbing a hand over his face. “I mean, you got the broad strokes there,” he said, gesturing at the notes in Dr. Peters’ lap. “Everything that happened, it was—it was a lot. I’m having a hard time…and Cindy, you know, she’s been amazing, but she’s trying to deal with it all too and she’s pregnant and I can’t just keep dumping on her. Figured I might as well talk to you.”

Of course, that was when he clammed up, his brain stalling out on exactly how to explain what he was feeling. Why he was struggling.

If he could do that, he probably wouldn’t be here.

Dr. Peters waited him out until Chris managed to say, “I don’t know…how to handle this.”

A head tilt was all he got in response. Right, right. Say more. He knew that.

Chris groaned, rubbing at his forehead. “It’s one thing when it’s me getting hurt or hell, even someone from the firehouse,” he said. “We know that comes with the territory. Even Jay—that was, you know, that was hard, but again, he’s a cop and he’s not—”

“He’s not what?” Dr. Peters asked quietly when Chris didn’t continue. “He’s not my baby sister,” Chris choked out. “Bex is—you-you remember the whole story, right? She’s…she’s pretty much my kid. I raised her. I look at her and I still see my little girl.” He swiped at his cheeks, shaking his head. “But she’s, uh, she’s a grown up now, technically, and she won’t—she’s not letting me help her. And I know I’ve got to let her make her own choices. I know that. I do. But she’s, ah, she’s struggling. I can see it and I’m spending every friggin’ minute worried about her, but I can’t make her come and stay with us so I can keep an eye on her even though I want to.”

He huffed out a deep sigh.

“I don’t want to make it worse,” Chris said, finally looking up at the doc. “But I don’t know how to make it better.”

“Have you communicated any of these fears to Bex?” Dr Peters asked and Chris snorted.

“Have I told her I’m afraid she’s not going to take care of herself because she’s got two hefty doses of stubborn in her DNA? No,” Chris said. “I have not. Not in so many words, anyway.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “And isn’t that more…my own problem? Don’t you think? She’s the one who got hurt and has to deal with the trauma from that. I shouldn’t be adding my own fears on top of it all.”

Dr. Peters set his papers aside at that and levelled a look at Chris. “Do you remember what we talked about after your injury? With Cindy and her fears about you returning to work?”

Oh. Right.

Chris had forgotten about that actually. Cindy had been terrified about him going back, to both the firehouse and Molly’s. She’d kept quiet about it for longer than Chris liked to think about—still hated that she felt so alone in it and yeah, okay, he could see Dr. Peters’ point here.

“When something like this happens to a loved one,” Dr. Peters said, repeating his words from the past. “It creates its own measure of trauma through the fear and uncertainty that you experienced. Communicating your fears to Bex could not only help you to work through them, but might also provide her with an opportunity to open up, much like it did with you and Cindy.”

“So, you think I should just…”

“Talk about your fears with Bex.”

“Okay.” Chris sat back on the couch. “…any ideas on how I should go about that?”

“We have some time left.” Dr. Peters smiled at him. “Let’s talk it through.”

***

Now

***

Jay

“Gentlemen,” Dr. Abrams said, arms folded as he stared down at them in a way that almost had Jay shrinking back into his seat. “I’m only going to ask this question once. Why do I see Ms. Herrmann sitting in the ICU when she is supposed to be at home? Resting. Which was doctor’s orders, I believe.”

Jay shot a look at Mouse who was giving him that same ‘not it’ look from the living room which was even less helpful now than it was then.

“Okay, uh,” Jay began. “I can explain…”

“Oh, good,” Chris said, popping up out of freaking nowhere with that very distinct look on his face that Jay had been picturing since Bex tried to make a break for it and it was exactly as awful as he thought it would be. “Because, I gotta say, Jay, I would also love to hear how this happened.”

“First of all,” Jay said, stalling, trying to figure out where to start, maybe panicking a little bit. “It’s also Mouse’s fault.”

“Dude.”

Jay ignored the betrayed look on his face—there was no way Jay was taking crap for this all on his own. “She heard us talking with you about Will and Emery,” he said to Chris. “Mouse caught her trying to leave on her own so she could check on them. What were we supposed to do?”

“She was really upset,” Mouse added. “We did our best to make sure she ate something and rested a bit, but she wasn’t going to relax until she saw them.”

“You know how much she’s been struggling,” Jay began and Chris nodded with a sigh.

“No, no, I get it,” Chris said, deflating as he leaned against one of the couches. “I’m not mad, Jay, just—”

“Just disappointed?” Jay muttered, having a hard time meeting Chris’s eye.

“No, not—” A hand clamped down on his shoulder and Jay looked up to see Chris shaking his head. “Listen. It’s a tough time all around and everyone’s doing their best. I’m more concerned about the fact that Bex seems to be doing her best to put herself back in a hospital bed.”

“Ms. Herrmann’s healing will only be delayed by stress,” Dr. Abrams said. “As much as I’d rather see her at home, resting, if checking in on Dr. Halstead and Ms. Hughes gives her some peace of mind, I think we can allow it under controlled circumstances. Limited visits. The last thing we want is her pushing herself and prolonging her symptoms.”

“That’s going to be a fun conversation,” Jay said, already grimacing at the thought.

“I know you guys are taking point on this, but you’re not alone,” Chris said. “I think it’s going to take all of us to manage the Bex situation.”

“Manage the what now?”

***

Chris

Dr. Peters would not be impressed with how this chat was going so far.

Chris turned around to see Bex standing behind their little group, leaning heavily on Kira who was trying to help her down into a chair. Bex stood firm though as she glared at him.

“I’m managing myself just fine, Chris,” she said. “You don’t need to be having little meetings about me or whatever it is that’s happening here.” Bex waved a hand at them, her frown turning into a wince as the movement pulled at her side.

Yeah, she was totally fine.

“Sit down, Ms. Herrmann,” Dr. Abrams said, gesturing at the chair she was still stubbornly ignoring. He raised an eyebrow at her when she didn’t move. “That wasn’t a request.”

Bex huffed before shaking off the helping hands of Kira, Chris, Jay, and Mouse and carefully lowering herself into the chair. It was friggin’ painful to watch.

“I always thought you were the sensible one,” Dr. Abrams continued. “You seem determined to prove me wrong.” He managed to keep his usual dry tone, but Chris could see the pinch of concern around his eyes.

And the way his mouth flattened when Bex didn’t toss one of her usual comebacks at him. She only sighed and rubbed at her forehead as she slumped back in the chair.

Dr. Abrams exchanged a look with Chris, opening his mouth to speak again when he was cut off by his pager. He took a quick look at it and frowned. “I have to go,” he said, frown deepening as he watched Bex. Stepping forward, he crouched down beside her chair, startling her. “Bex—”

“Whoa, first name,” she muttered. “Serious.”

“Yes, it is,” he said as he fought back a little smile. “So, listen carefully. Dr. Fahir and I let you leave the hospital with the understanding that you were going to take care of yourself. I expected you to do better than this.”

Mouse made a noise at that and Dr. Abrams held up a hand, not breaking eye contact with Bex.

“People who get readmitted are clearly not well enough to come up with nicknames,” he said. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

Bex’s sullen look cracked a bit at that. “Stooping to bribery, Dr. Abrams?”

“Merely stating facts. Now stop making me repeat myself and get some rest.” He patted her knee as he stood up. “Gentlemen.” Then, with a nod, he was striding back down the hall.

That was…helpful? Maybe? Chris turned back to find Bex glaring up at him—or maybe not so helpful then.

“Well? Isn’t it your turn to lecture me?” Bex held herself stiffly in the chair, chin set as she stared somewhere around his shoulder. “Come on. You wanted to talk about the Bex situation.”

“I can’t help being concerned,” Chris said. “The docs told us to expect mood swings and impulsive behaviour, but—”

“It’s not unreasonable for me to want to check on Will and Emery,” Bex snapped.

“No, it’s not.” Chris took a beat and focused on maintaining calm tones. “But you trying to haul ass to the hospital all by yourself kinda was. You’re injured, Bex and there are limitations—”

“I’m handling it—”

“Can you guys give us a minute?” Chris asked Jay, Mouse, and Kira. “Go grab a coffee or something? Heck, grab one for me while you’re at it.” The three of them hesitated, looking between him and Bex. “Please?”

“I should get back to Emery anyway,” Kira said softly, giving Bex a gentle squeeze on her shoulder before heading back into the ICU room. Jay and Mouse stood, but made not move to leave yet.

“It’s fine,” Bex sighed. “Stop fussing.”

“We’ll be back soon,” Jay said, clasping a hand on Chris’s back while Mouse leaned down to kiss Bex on top of her head and murmur something in her ear that got a faint smile out of her. With a few final looks back, the two of them headed down the hall and out of sight.

Chris pulled one of the little tables over closer to Bex’s chair and sat down on it, facing her with his elbows on his knees. The two of them stared at each other for a moment.

“I’m handling it,” she finally muttered. Bex had that same mulish look on her face that she’d perfected at the age of three and Chris couldn’t help the bark of laughter it pulled out of him.

“Well, I’m glad to hear it,” he said, shaking his head. “Because I’m definitely not.”

“Wha-what do you mean?”

Staring down at his hands, Chris took a moment to gather his words. “When Trudy and Mouse showed up at the station like that,” he said slowly, not wanting to put this on Bex, but needing to talk about it with her. “I thought I was about to have the worst day of my life all over again.”

“Chris,” she whispered and he held up a hand, meeting her eyes.

“Let me get this out. Please.” Chris swiped a hand over his face and cleared his throat. “It was still one of the worst days of my life,” he said. “Seeing you hurt like that and knowing what you’d been through? That we’d almost—that you could’ve—” He shuffled forward to kneel beside her, old man knees be damned. “Losing you would have broken me, Bex. It would have broken all of us. And—and knowing how close we came? It’s been keeping me up at night. I’m trying really hard not to hover, but god, kid, I can’t stop worrying about you.”

Bex reached out with her unbroken arm and grabbed his hand in hers. Chris squeezed it gently for a moment, grounding himself.

“I know you’re processing things in your own way and you need space,” he said. “But please—please don’t shut us out. Let us help you. And let yourself heal. You need time and you need to rest, Bex. I just—please don’t fight me on this, okay? I need you to take this seriously and take care of yourself. I need you to be okay.”

“I’m trying,” Bex said, voice going thick. “I just—Will…and Emery—”

“Are not alone,” Chris said. “They have all of us looking out for them. Not just you, okay? So, trust us to do that. To help. I get that all of that is a lot to ask, but can you try? Will you? Please?”

***

Bex

When Bex had walked out into the hall and come across the little huddle between Chris, Jay, Mouse, and Dr. Abrams, a white-hot flare of anger had burned through her gut.

How dare they? Talking about her like that?

Discussing how to manage her?

Chalking up her feelings to concussion side effects?

She’d been two-seconds away from telling them all to fuck off and finding her own way to hobble home.

But then Chris had to go and pour his heart out and now she just felt awful. Physically. Emotionally. Pretty much on a cellular level.

The last thing she wanted was to cause him pain and look what she was doing.

“I’m sorry,” Bex managed to get out.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for, sweetheart,” Chris said, groaning as he got to his feet. “Just promise me you’ll take care of yourself first.” He leaned over her to wrap her up in a gentle hug. Bex closed her eyes and let herself sink into it.

She hadn’t meant to worry him—hadn’t meant to worry anyone—but she’d been so focused on Will and Emery, worried about them, that she hadn’t thought about much else.

Now she knew though, how wrong that had been.

Of course, Chris was upset and worried. Just like Jay and Mouse and apparently a whole bunch of other people including Dr. Abrams.

And Bex was making it worse.

After everything they’d all been through, she was making it worse.

And why? What for?

It wasn’t like she’d been stabbed or shot. She was going to be fine in a couple of weeks.

Chris was right. Bex needed to suck it up and focus. Follow doctors’ orders perfectly and maybe she could shave a bit of time off of that couple weeks so she could be back in the game and help out properly. Will and Emery were going to need it during their much longer recovery times.

Heal up now. Help out sooner. That made sense.

Bex could do that.

“Hey,” Jay said quietly from somewhere behind her. “Everything okay here?”

“Yeah.” Chris straightened up with a little pat to Bex’s undamaged shoulder. “We’re all good. Oh, gimme that.” He reached out and grabbed a coffee from Jay’s outstretched hand with a little grin, immediately taking a gulp. “Jesus, that’s hot. Mm.” He took another quick sip. “Ah!”

“You do that every time. Why don’t you get iced coffee?” Bex laughed as she pushed herself up out of her chair. Mouse moved to her side, ready to help, but not actually jumping in to do so which she appreciated. Almost as much as the small vanilla frappuccino that he handed her after.

Chris grimaced through another sip. “Iced? And dilute my caffeine? No, ma’am.”

“Connor said Will’s awake if we want to stop by,” Jay said, waving his phone at her.

“How is that even a question?” Bex started to rush toward the elevator, ready to push to get to Will faster, before Chris’s words played back through her brain and she forced herself to slow down. Move carefully. She ignored the loaded look that passed between Chris and Jay, tried to tamp down on the flutter of panic building in her chest that said she had to rush—had to lay eyes on Will now to truly know he was okay, and took the arm that Mouse offered her. “Let’s go.”

One step in front of the other. Slow and steady.

She could make herself be okay.

For Chris.

For all of them.

***

Mouse

After stopping in at Emery’s room to say goodbye—mostly to Kira since Emery was already asleep again—the four of them headed down to Will’s room.

Mouse kept an eye on Bex the whole way. He tried to be subtle about it, but the only reason he probably got away with it was because Jay and Chris were doing the same thing. Bex was mostly focused on walking which was still fucking painful to watch and not even the thing that was worrying him the most.

She was quiet since her talk with Chris. Subdued almost.

What the hell had he said to her?

Neither of them seemed distressed and even Jay seemed fine. Watchful, but okay.

Maybe—maybe Mouse was reading into things. He’d been hyper-aware of Bex’s every move and tone and expression since he’d walked into her hospital room and he should probably start to stand down a bit.

She relaxed once they got into Will’s room and she had some time sitting beside him, holding his hand. Groggy as he was, Will managed to make her laugh a bit as well.

Jay pulled Connor aside while Will and Bex were distracted with each other. The guy looked wrecked. “How’s he really doing?” Jay asked. “And how are you, man?”

Connor sighed. “Will’s about as good as can be expected,” he said. “The bleed was relatively easy to fix and his fever is slowly going down. I don’t want to say we’re completely out of the woods yet, but it’s looking better and everyone’s keeping a close eye on him.”

“And how are you,” Chris asked again.

“I’m—” Connor let out a short laugh as he dragged a hand down his face. “I’m just grateful he’s still alive and focused on keeping him that way. Everything else is…background noise.”

“Well, I’m here for the afternoon,” Chris said. “So, you go get some food and a shower and a nap and I can keep an eye on the big guy.”

“Chris, I—”

“Nah, none of that.” Chris held up a hand with a crooked little smile. He nodded over at Bex and Will, lowering his voice. “I’m trying to get Bex to be better about accepting help from all of us so how about you lead by example, eh?”

Connor ducked his head, huffing out a little laugh. “Fair enough,” he said. “And, uh, thank you.”

“That’s what family’s for,” Chris said, patting him on the back.

Will started to fade again shortly after that so after another round of goodbyes, Mouse and Jay took Bex back to the apartment. One of the neighbours came out as soon as they arrived. Apparently, there’d been a few flower deliveries that they’d accepted on Bex’s behalf. Jay carried them in while Mouse helped Bex to the couch.

“Who are they from?” Bex asked, trying to peer around Kol who was already cuddling up beside her.

“Gimme a sec.” Jay started setting them out on the kitchen table, far out of the way of Kol’s enthusiastic tail wags. “This one if from everyone at the diner.” He showed off a colourful bouquet to Bex who smiled softly at it.

“Keep the cards,” she said. “I want to remember to thank everyone later.”

“Will do,” Jay said, sticking it up on the fridge where they’d been keeping the rest of them. “Okay, this one is from Beau.” He held up a vase full of sunflowers before holding up a smaller one full of red flowers. “And this one isn’t signed. It just says ‘Enjoy your gift.’, but there isn’t anything else with it. Think they mean the flowers? Kind of a weird way to put it.”

“Hunh.” Bex stared at the bouquet, eyebrows scrunching up in thought. “That flower looks familiar, but I can’t—ugh, I can’t remember.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Mouse said, stroking back her hair. “It’ll come to you. In the meantime, we have pretty flowers.”

“There is that.” Bex’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes and Mouse leaned down to kiss her forehead.

“Why don’t you hang out here with Kol and we’ll get dinner ready,” he said. She nodded, sinking back into the cushions, and Mouse made his way into the kitchen where Jay was frowning at the bouquets. “Everything okay?”

“That last one is kind of weird, don’t you think?” Jay had the card in his hands still, flipping it over to check out the name of the florist.

“Some people get awkward with this kind of thing,” Mouse said, opening the fridge to see what they had to work with. “Don’t know what to say and either say too much or it comes out weird, like that.”

Jay hummed noncommittally and pocketed the card. “Alright,” he said, turning to Mouse and peering over his shoulder. “What are we making?”

Heating up a meal from Cindy was the answer to that question because she was a goddess who had sent Chris with a pile of filled Tupperware containers. Enough to last them until tomorrow night at least.

…they really needed to go shopping.

“I’ll hit the store tomorrow,” Jay said, echoing his thoughts. “Start a list, yeah?”

Between the two of them, they got dinner together and out to the living room for Bex. She ate at least half of it which was better than she’d done all week and took her pills without complaint.

Not a peep.

Just said something about how she was tired and was going to get ready for bed. Mouse turned to Jay after she’d wandered off to the bathroom.

“Do you—do you think she’s okay? I mean relatively speaking?” Mouse asked him. “Because she’s acting weird—weirder or weird in a different way, you know? What did Chris say to her?”

“I don’t really know,” Jay said, dragging a hand through his hair. “We didn’t have much time to talk, but he said he just asked her to talk all of this more seriously and to focus on herself more. Focus on resting and getting better.”

Technically, that seemed to be what she was doing now so that was good…

Mouse just couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something off with her, but it was hard to pinpoint what when everything was off right now.

Jay’s phone buzzed and he pulled it out to check the message. “Oh. Wow.” His eyebrows flew up as he scrolled through what appeared to be a whole pile of messages. “Bex! Check this out!” He bounded down the hallway, Mouse and Kol hot on his heels.

“Is someone hurt?” Bex called through the bathroom door.

“No, it’s good news,” Jay called back.

“I’ll be out in a sec.” The three of them leaned against the wall, straightening up again when Bex sighed loud enough for them to hear. “That means go back to the living room and don’t listen to me peeing, you weirdos.”

“Right. Gotcha.” A red-faced Jay led them back toward the living room and flopped back down on the couch.

Bex joined them a few minutes later, a hint of her usual spark as she shook her head at them. “What’s the good news?”

Jay held up his phone and showed them a long string of text messages and photos from Severide. “Sev and a bunch of others from 51 went and fixed up Emery’s place now that it’s been cleared as a crime scene. He says it was Otis’s idea—they wanted it to be all ready for when she’s allowed to come home.”

“Oh,” Bex said softly, eyes filling with tears as she took his phone and scrolled through the pictures of the many repairs the team had done. “That’s—oh, that’s—oh, my god, I love them so much.” She thrust the phone back into Jay’s hands. “Tell them. Tell them I love them and thank you and that we’re gonna make them so many cookies.”

Jay paused in his typing to raise an eyebrow at her. “We?”

“Chris said I need to accept help so blame him,” she sniffed. “And help me make cookies, please.”

“We will help you make cookies,” Jay said, grinning as he finished up his message to Severide.

“So many cookies,” Mouse agreed. He bit back a smile as Bex struggled to stifle a yawn. “Tomorrow though.”

“I’m holding you to that,” Bex said as she lost the fight against the yawn. “We have a good family.” She leaned her head against Jay’s shoulder with a sigh.

“The best.” Jay wrapped an arm around her for a gentle squeeze. He laughed when she yawned again. “Okay. Bedtime for you. Cookie time tomorrow. Deal?”

“Deal,” Bex murmured. She let Mouse help her up with out a fight, leaning into him as they headed down the hall. “You gonna tuck me in, Mouse?” she stage-whispered at him.

“I was thinking about it,” he whispered back.

“Sing me a lullaby?”

“Uh, I thought the plan was to get you to sleep,” Mouse said, making a face. “Not, uh, to traumatize you further.”

That startled a laugh out of her. “Oh, crap,” Bex clutched at her side, groans mixed in with the giggles. “Don’t make me laugh.”

“Shit—” Mouse could kick himself. “I’m so sorry—”

“Stop,” Bex said with a little sigh, leaning against the doorframe to her room. “I’m okay. Don’t worry about it. I’m fine. It was funny. Funny’s good.” She leaned toward him for a kiss. “You’re good.” Another gentle kiss.

“Less kissing, more bedtime!” Jay hollered from the living room.

Bex started to roll her eyes and then stopped, straightening up. “Right,” she said. “Gotta follow doctor’s orders.” She nodded to herself as her smile dropped away.

“That reminds me,” Mouse said, herding her towards her bed. “Dr. Fahir called and she said that not only should you be tucked in, but also snuggled for at least five to ten minutes.”

“Oh, really?”

Mouse fought to keep a straight face as he saw the smile return to Bex’s. He nodded, kicking the door shut behind them. “At least.”

“Well, I am trying to be a better patient.” Bex settled onto her mattress and made grabby hands at him, pulling him to her. “Medicine, please.”

***

Jay

Jay looked over at Kol as a giggle drifted down the hall from Bex’s room.

“Let’s go clean up the kitchen,” he said and Kol was already off like a shot, settling on one of the kitchen chairs to watch Jay do the dishes.

It was actually good to hear Bex laughing like that. Mouse was right—she’d been weird today and clearly struggling for the last few days.

With good freaking reason too.

He knew it was going to take time for her to start to heal and process, but that giggle felt like a good start. It gave him hope that they could get there.

Hope he’d been struggling to find a few days ago.

When he’d been sitting there while Bex was laid out in the hospital, part of him had wondered if they’d ever be okay again. Even now, when he was still for too long, his mind kept going to dark places. Thinking about what could have happened. What they could have lost.

To think that Will could have died or Bex…

We have a good family, she’d said.

And they did. They really did.

Jay wondered if Bex realized what a large part she’d had to play in that. If she knew how their family would fall apart without her. How much they’d break…

He didn’t even want to think about it, but he did because that was what Jay did. Think about his family and the what ifs and how to prevent them.

Because he was going to do everything he could to make sure nothing like this ever happened to his family ever again. He was going to keep them safe.

Any way he could.

Jay put the last dish in the rack and dried off his hands, reaching for his phone.

***

Statesville – Maximum Security Unit

After midnight.

***

Ty

This was—this was fucking bullshit.

Ty pressed a hand against his stomach, watching helplessly as the blood leaked out around his fingers. He wasn’t even sure why he was trying to stop it when he had half a dozen other matching punctures.

“Wait—hnggg.” He fell back against the wall, feet going out from under him, sending him sliding down to the ground. His vision was going blurry, but he could still make out the form of that guard, that fucking guard Mitchell, leaning over him. “Help me…”

“Son,” Mitchell said, lips twisting up in a smile. “You brought this on yourself. Should have left that girl alone.”

“Em?” This was because of her? Who fucking cared enough about fucking Emery to—

The crackling laughter of the guard interrupted his fuzzy thoughts. It echoed through the empty hallway, reminding Ty of how very alone he was right now.

“How many girls you been messing with?” Mitchell crouched down beside him and poked at him with the shiv. “No, you idiot. Does the name Bex mean anything to you? Because she sure means a lot to somebody.”

“Fuckin’ bastard cop,” Ty snarled, jerking back when Mitchell laughed again.

“Oh, you have no idea who you messed with, do you?” he said as he stood, taking out a cloth and wiping off the shiv before dropping it on the floor beside Ty.

Darkness crowded in along the edges of Ty’s vision as he slumped to the side, watching his blood slowly seep out into a growing puddle on the floor. “Wh-who…why…” His eyes slipped shut and the last thing he heard was Mitchell’s footsteps walking away, a phone beeping, and the faint sound of his voice.

“It’s done.”

Click here to read Chapter Five.

Click here to read Fine is a Four-Letter Word on ao3:

And here is the tag list (let me know if you wish to be added or removed):

@sorry-i-spaced, @thegirlwhowishedeveryonelived, @thewannabewriter, @lexhalstead3

@foxes-and-cats, @sensitivemallysix, @emme-looou, @lookingfortherainbow85

[sixosix]

(so… that ask about the potion made me think… and when you brought up plastic flowers, it kinda clicked and i kinda had brain rot in between my final exam and IRL stuff- figured i’d at least try! Look at me mashing things together like play-dough and pretending it makes sense, so please pardon any writing or spelling/grammer mistakes! I like to write but i’m not really a fanfic writer, and not confident on my grasp of any characters! Plus i threw this together in like a few days - deadman aether anon)

You look happier.

No… that isn’t exactly it.

You may be more open with your emotions now, but that doesn’t necessarily mean happiness. The few glances Lyney gets of you during his street performances show you as focused, stressed in some way if not tired. Running around the streets of Fontaine for whatever task your job seemed to require of you at that time. He hasn’t seen you laughing in joy or with a wide cheek-to-cheek grin on your face.

But you seem more relaxed. You don’t have a constant guard up anymore. There may still be tension and stress in your posture, but it's not the kind a soldier has. Just the constantly present worries of making ends meet.

Lighter.

You look lighter. 

Like you no longer carry the weight of your past sins on your back. 

Which makes sense.

After all, how can one carry that weight if they have no memory of it?

He knows something happened between you and Father; even if she refused to tell him exactly what happened the one time he dared to ask, brushing it off for a later time. Any attempts to try to get answers out of the flower shop owner; mother, you called her your mother; also failed, only resulting in a bittersweet look in the woman’s eyes. 

All he knows is by the time he managed to find out their location, he found you standing in front of the Knave and the tied up woman. Downing something like it was hard liquor, before handing back the little bottle to Arlecchino with a grim but resolute look on your face. 

Nothing odd seemed to happen after you drank it. No longer the star of the show, but apart of the audience, he could only watch in anxious bewilderment as you walked past the harbinger without even receiving a second glance in return. Able to free Rosalie without even the Fauti guards nearby saying a word. As the two of you had started to leave, Lyney had tried approach you again. To discover what happened or to beg for you to trust him, to trust in his genuine feelings for you… he doesn’t know. 

But you only walked past him with the same resolve you had with Father. Even Rosalie only glanced at him, opening her mouth to say something only to shut it and continue walking with you. Lyney had barely managed to reassure himself with the fact that you were unharmed, that he could try to approach you at a different time despite Arlecchino’s orders to stop contact.

Gods, he’ll always regret arriving too late, till the end of his days he’ll never forgive himself.

When Father informed him and his siblings of the fact you no longer had any memories of the Fauti, his heart broke. 

No… no, you won’t have, right? You won’t have chosen to forget everything. Not Cecilia, not Freminet, or Lynette or even the rest of the family. Not- not him.

Lyney always has to bite back the thought that they hadn’t been your family for years at that point. 

But with how you acted when Rosalie was kidnapped…

He can’t even blame you like he had when you first left. If it was the only way, he would gave up his memories in a heart beat if it meant his family would be safe. 

Gods, if only Lyney could hate you for this. But the only thing he hasn’t been able to successfully trick as been his heart.

Originally, after the confrontation he stumbled on, he had wanted to come up with a plan. Some sort of way to work around Arlecchino’s orders and make contact. Sure, he would have to start from the beginning again, but he was willing. For you, he’d do it. He’d do anything for you.

But this, this was hitting rock bottom and grabbing a shovel to dig deeper.

When he first saw you after everything, the words had died in his throat as he watched an unburdened you hurrying through the crowds with a goal in mind. It felt just like it had when you had gotten drunk at the party, and just like before, he couldn’t bring himself to call out to you. To press you for details and answers, to figure out what little memories you had left, to try and woo you, to try to put a blush on your cheeks. 

So, Lyney settled.

He settled with passing glances, watching you in the distance. Settled for not being a major role in the opera of your life but a member of the audience. Even at the knowing looks he gained from Lynette and Freminet when he changed the location of his street performances, he couldn’t help himself. He futilely tried to convince his heart that this was fine. As long as he could still see you, as long as you were ok, that he could settle with crumbs instead of a full meal.

Only for all his efforts to come undone the moment Lyney saw you standing in the crowd.

Like a starved, feral animal, all his feelings came bubbling forth when he realized you joined the tail end of the performance. He would swear to anyone who asked that the only reason he didn’t come undone like at the Opera House is because of the continued exposure he got, as little as it was. 

Seeing you, looking up at him, starstruck despite the fact he isn’t doing a single trick at that moment, just advertising his and Lynette’s next show…

His resolve crumbles into dust, and the spare flower he keeps on hand to charm the citizens of Fontaine feels heavy in its hiding spot. 

In the end, he never really could stop himself when it came to you, could he?

The noises of the remaining crowd members just turn into an incomprehensible buzz at that point, he doesn’t even hear the apology he gives out with a theatrical bow as he sees you getting farther and farther away. The moment the necessities of politeness are done,  he darts off after your distant figure, everything unrelated fading to the background. 

“Wait, wait!”

Unlike the past three times he has called out to you like this, you stop.  Lyney hears his heart pounding in his ears, joy rising as he watches you turn around. He barely notices you looking around in a panic, wondering why someone like him is calling out to you because all he can think about in that moment is that you stayed.

You, in all your glory, stayed. 

“Hello…” you murmur reluctantly as he comes to a stop. Despite that, he can’t help the smile that comes to his face.

Well, third times the charm, isn’t it?

- you only put this together after a few days?? 😭😭 youre incredible (cut below is me losing my mind line after line thank you very much)

- ‘lighter. you look lighter.’ IM GPING TO SOBB 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 LYNEYYY 😭😭😭😭

- “Gods, he’ll always regret arriving too late, till the end of his days he’ll never forgive himself.” NOOOOOO MY POOR BOY 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 he did nothing wrong my heart aches for him AAUGHH IM SAD FOR HIM U WROTE HIM SO WELL

- “Lyney always has to bite back the thought that they hadn’t been your family for years at that point. “ im srsly going crazy. MY DOOMED FAMILY my babies 😭

- “Gods, if only Lyney could hate you for this. But the only thing he hasn’t been able to successfully trick as been his heart.” I have been shot.

- “Settled for not being a major role in the opera of your life but a member of the audience.” OKAY OKAY I GET IT ILL JUMP OFF

- “In the end, he never really could stop himself when it came to you, could he?” i have fainted on the floor

- THE WAY IT SO SMOOTHLY CHANGES TO THE BEGINNING OF PLASTIC FLOWERS WOOOWWW I HAD TO PAUSE AND CLAP. I HAD TO TAKE A BREATH……… that was so seamless i didnt even realize it until i thought the “wait wait” and the “hello…” was familiar

- YOU ARE SUCH AN INCREDIBLE WRITER WOW. im stunned. you have such a way with words ☹️🙏 the way u wrote lyneys train of thought and feelings I CANT BELIEVE THERES FANFIC OF THAWED and i cant believe the first fanfic of it is this it is SO GOOD i ate this up this was literally my breakfast i have been fed well by your immense skill

[zagreuses-toast]

I come from a place of sheer curiousity and I just wanna ask genuinely- you say that you're a fan of 13s/ the chibnall era. Why? Doctor who is my favourite show and I've connected with every incarnation deeply and immediately, but have never been able to "click" with 13, despite my best efforts. What is it that you like about her? What is it that you like about chibnalls writing? I want to know and I want to like her/it too, but as of right now, I just... don't. Obviously you're not obligated to, but can you explain why?

Ok so this ended up being a Long Post, so I'm putting my response under the read more. Also I'm assuming you've actually watched the Chibnall era up to The Power of The Doctor, if you haven't then heads up for spoilers and stuff that might not make much sense without context.

Oh and I'm gonna @ @rearranging-deck-chairs and @ssaalexblake because I see their DW opinions all the time and they're really good and they can probably give more nuanced answers on some things. (Idk how well I did on explaining why I liked some of them, and it really is up to personal preference on some things)

Thirteen herself:

There are a lot of reasons I like Chibnalls era, but one of the biggest ones out the gate is definitely Jodie and her acting in the role of the Doctor. I think the way she balances bouncy gregariousness with the colder more angry and mean aspects of the Doctor is great. She does this thing where she can just make her eyes go dead and then smile like it's a threat, like she's gonna bite, especially when going up against villains. It's great. And Jodie herself is a delightful person.

Beyond just physical acting choices, I find the thirteenth Doctors struggle between her anger and secrecy, vs her desire to connect and her joy at life very very compelling. She keeps this distance that's really interesting I think, where she's genuinely attached to and trying to be a friend to the Fam, but still trying to keep her whole past out of the deal, which doesn't work that well, as we see in s12 and Flux. She's surrounded by death and haunted by the knowledge of how little time she has with her friends, (Grace, and she just came back from bill) but she still wants and needs that connection, and she learns to live in the present a bit. I made a whole post about her final regeneration speech here. I love her arc a lot even if it hurts. Also she's such a horrible hypocrite about so many things, which also makes her a fun character to rotate in my head and study like a bug. I do see it as being on purpose, some people seem to think it's just bad writing that she contradicts herself but imo that's a big part of her character.

Chibnalls writing:

I personally like the timeless child plot because :

There are a lot of stories and ideas in the Chibnall era I like, and a lot more I find very compelling. Whatever your opinions on the writing (and I definitely have had a lot of critique for some bits), there were a lot of ideas introduced that were fun and interesting. One of the weaker points of the era IMO is having so much fun stuff set up, but only shallowly or quickly exploring it, and then adding more stuff on top.

A lot of things didn't get the exploration/screen time I thought they deserved (especially characterization and interaction/dialogue wise). But that just gives my brain more to chew on at the end of the day, and I do love what was done during the seasons itself, not just all the potential stuff.

1) I can connect with it, I know Chibnall was coming at it from a place of being an adoptee, but as a native person the story of a kid taken and raised into an imperial/colonial society, who had their history stolen and their body exploited to further that societies ends, hits very close to home.

And 2) I have a "everything is true at once" approach to canon and I think the more origin stories we make for the Doctor the funnier it is.

This era had a lot of repeating themes, ideas that showed up and we're explored in a lot of different circumstances, often with a rule of 3 aspect to it. One is themes of Empire and Exploitation. Particularly through the stenza in s11 (empire using up planets, introduced to us basically doing foxhunts for clout, but with People instead of foxes), the dalek specials, the Cybermen in s12, and Division/the timelords in flux (as well as the sontarans &co).

Within that there's the repeating motif of how by exploiting people or their beliefs for power the imperial power/bad guys sew the seeds of their destruction. From Tzim Sha using the Ux and them turning against him, to the Division being destroyed by the Ravagers, who they tried to use to get rid of the Doctor/the old universe (and the doctor and even the master going rogue in the first place). Hell even Kerblam! (I know I know) Has a version, where the AI system being used to do terrible things is the one to call the doctor for help!

Another standout are themes of breaking cycles, Ryan is estranged from his dad and was distancing himself from Graham, but they both put in the work and grow extremely close over their two seasons. He also chooses to leave the TARDIS when he realizes he's absent from his friend's lives and wants to be present. And the Doctor gets to break the cycle of exploitation that Tecteun started, when she meets a vulnerable being with mysterious power (the energy being from TPOTD) she helps it free itself, on a way she wasn't helped.

Individual character stuff:

Going again into more individual character stuff I love, I've gotta give it to Sacha Dhawan for being a fucking superb Master. His acting is bonkers amazing and he does a great job portraying the sorta huge personal crisis the master is going through, and externalizing via evil schemes. At the end of Twelves run we saw Missy try to be like the doctor, to get her friend back (and even succeed a bit) but end up dying for it. Now we come back to a master who died trying to be like the person they see as their only equal, and has discovered (wrongly) that they were never equal to begin with, that the doctor is so much more than them. So he tries to make her like him instead, and If she won't become like him and kill them both along with the rest of gallifrey, then he will become her properly this time (by body snatching), ruin her legacy, and die with her eventually (overtaking her in the same way his whole existance has now been caused/overtaken by the doctor in his eyes, because of her being the source of regeneration)

Also can we talk about the Yaz?? I've been dying to talk about Yaz!!! I love her a lot and I find her fascinating, shes probably my favorite companion based on just sheer amount of time spent Thinking about her. Her doctorification/character arc is so good

Yaz is into the travelling and saving the day lifestyle the Doctor gives her for the responsibility of it all, for feeling useful and capable and good. Her early characterization Monet's include her complaining about not having more interesting jobs as a cop because she wants responsibility, she wanted to be important and helpful (that's the entire reason she became a cop, to help people like she was helped when she was in a dark place, and she finds a better way of doing that with the Doctor). And she GETS THERE, narratively and on a character level, she spends three years on earth with her own companions! She co-pilots the TARDIS and can fly her herself! She saves the day when the master steals the doctors body! And most of all SHES EXTREMELY SAD AT THE END BECAUSE THE PERSON SHE LOVES DIED BEFORE HER!! JUST LIKE THE DOCTOR !! (ugly crying) (I could write a whole other post about thasmin, good and bad, but a lot of people have put it better than me)

Also, I'm a big TARDIS girlie, she has somehow ended up being one of my favorite characters in doctor who, and the chinball era does so much fun stuff with the TARDIS!! Different writers take different approaches to the TARDIS, and how alive vs inanimate, or how active vs passive she is. I think the Chinball era had something special in terms of the way the TARDIS was depicted, and I loved it a lot. We never really get to see past the control room but it's a gorgeous control room! And throughout the era the TARDIS just feels so alive, it's always humming and beeping and chirping, I especially love the moments when the lights change color to match the doctors mood (mostly to blue, for sadness, sometimes red to yell at that dalek that one time). And speaking of the doctor, starting with ghost monument thirteen has a bunch of sweet moments of banter or just ~emotions~ with the TARDIS. I genuinely teared up a bit when she entrusted the timeless child memories to the TARDIS,and before her regeneration speech when she asked the TARDIS to look after her. Because who can she trust with her past AND her future except her oldest truest friend.

I could add a lot more of specific things from the era I love (solitract my beloved) but I think this is getting long enough as is lol.