#“i was only 12 but i could have done better” kind of deal

[mewunderthetruck]

"You are you, but who are you if not the result of the reckless actions of a bad person?"

I like to think Ninten has a strong resemblance to Maria... but maybe, as he grows up, he stops seeing that resemblance and starts seeing himself as a young version of George - the man responsible for so much pain, and a domino effect that ended affecting so much people that Ninten can only feel guilty. In this image, he's in his middle 20s.

He looks at the mirror and sees George, not even Maria or himself. He has to deal with what George had left behind after all... he has to take responsibility, or else more people could be affected.

He's the hero, but also the person who couldn't defeat Giegue. Doesn't that make him as bad as George?

(inspired by this post by Nanaten heheh)

[m00ngbin]

Sometimes I think of Chicken Little from the movie Chicken Little and cry bc he's just a kid and he's all alone and his dad is ashamed of him and he lost his mother and he gets bullied and harassed bc he's small and kind of strange and he's the only person in the world that knows that the sky is falling and when he tries to tell people they don't believe him

[lemonlover1110]

𝐌𝐲 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝

Toji Fushiguro

[Chapter 12] Unexpected

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Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

It’s very rare for you to go out nowadays, but occasionally you get a call and you can’t say no. This time around, you were rambling to make up an excuse but then you realized it was your friend’s birthday; and while you have the right to decline because you’re simply too overwhelmed with life, you couldn’t bring yourself to say no. 

It feels odd to sit at a table full of women that you no longer talk to– Except your best friend, of course, but she’s occupied tonight. Everyone is trying to get her attention, ask her about her adorable new baby who rests at home. 

You feel out of place. You notice the stares that you’re getting, simply because of your bump. Toji is the father, clearly. They doubt you got pregnant by a one night stand or an affair, the only plausible answer would be your husband, or rather, ex-husband. 

You’re still grateful that nobody is really interrogating you about your situation. You’re either ignored or asked simple questions. The only question that was asked about your situation is about the sex of your baby, which you happily answered.

You’re happy to be ignored, though you feel that maybe you should’ve stayed home. It’s fine, at least the food is good. 

“I have to use the bathroom, I’ll be–” You begin to tell your best friend, Eri, but she cuts you off.

“I’ll go with you.” She says, and you two walk to the bathroom in silence. She doesn’t go into a stall, instead walking to the sink to powder her face. She hears you using the bathroom, and still raises her voice to speak, “How are you doing? You’ve been distant.”

“I’ve been… Better.” You tell her when you exit the stall. It’s no surprise to her. She’s been getting little information about your life, but she’s heard about the divorce and the pregnancy which isn’t exactly an ideal situation. “How about you? How’s the baby?”

“He’s a sleepy baby. He’s barely changed anything for me.” She says, and you smile. You can only hope that you’ll have the same fate. She doesn’t want to talk about herself though, that’s all that everyone talks about right now. She wants to hear about you. “I’m surprised you showed up.”

“It’s your birthday, I couldn’t miss it.” You answer. You’re drying your hands, ready to go back out but Eri is taking her time with her makeup. She’s not planning to go back out until she’s done talking with you. “It is kind of awkward though.”

“Yeah…” She agrees. She knows your friendship with them completely changed when your relationship with Toji hit a certain point– They just couldn’t stand him after Toji betrayed you; granted, it was shortly after the beginning of your relationship, it wasn’t a big deal to you. They just strayed away when you continued dating him. 

“All that and for what? We still got divorced.” You can’t help but chuckle, feeling tears build up. Your stupid hormones are getting the best of you. “He won’t fucking leave me alone either, he wants to get back together.”

“Can you make it clear that you’re not getting back together– Unless you do…” She says, and you take a deep breath. You feel like you’ve done everything you possibly can, and lately you’ve been getting soft for him again. You left Toji for good. 

“I just… Want him to stop. Get it through his head that we’re just co-parenting. I still care for Toji a lot but getting back with him will just make me miserable.” You answer, keeping any explanation to yourself. All that people need to know is that Toji wasn’t the best to you, any other explanation is unwarranted. “Ignore me. I’ll try to have a serious conversation with him soon.”

“You know you could always just give him a taste of his own medicine.” She suggests, and you raise your brows. What does she mean? She applies some lipstick, smacking her lips together before answering your question, “Technically it isn’t a taste of his own medicine since you aren’t together. It isn’t considered cheating.”

“Oh– I couldn’t do that to Toji.” You awkwardly laugh, and then you think about it for a moment. Do what to Toji? You left, you’re not together anymore. Toji shouldn’t care about your love life unless it concerns his unborn child. “Not like anyone would be too interested in me anyway.”

“Really? There was just someone staring you down. Why do you think I came with you?” She tells you, and you chuckle, knowing that she’s lying to make you feel better. She clicks her tongue, rolling her eyes, “I wasn’t joking.”

“Why would–” You begin, but before you can even ask the question, she leaves the bathroom. You sigh before following behind her. This time you’re looking around, wanting to see if any eyes fall on you as you exit the bathroom– And they do, they’re just not from the person that you want. 

She doesn’t remember Shiu, that’s why she thinks he was checking you out. 

“Hi.” Shiu approaches you outside of the restaurant while you wait for your ride home. He’s been clearly watching you, waiting for your dinner to be over so he can approach you afterward. Unluckily for him, you ignore him, and he sighs before offering, “How about I take you home?”

“Are you going to report it to Toji?” You sound annoyed, and Shiu can’t help but chuckle. He knows he deserves it. You bite down your lip before telling him, “Thank you for the gift for my daughter. It’s cute.”

“Anything for my niece.” He responds. He clears his throat before telling you again, “Let me take you home. I’m not telling Toji anything.”

“Why are you suddenly so nice?” You ask him since he has no reason to help you. Unless he’s lying to you, and he’ll run to tell Toji.

“We’re friends, are we not?” He replies, and you furrow your brows together. You’re not. He’s Toji’s friend and he’s just keeping an eye on you since Toji wants you back. Either way, you accept,

“Take me home then.”

The car ride back to your place is silent. Shiu is trying to make some conversation, and your answers are dry. It’s not that you don’t want to talk but you keep thinking about Eri’s words. To give Toji a taste of his own medicine and of the man that was checking you out. 

“Are you seeing anyone?” You speak up, which takes the man back. He definitely wasn’t expecting that from you, but it earns a laugh from him. If he didn’t know you better, he’d say you want to make a move on him.

“I have some friends… Nothing serious though. So no.” Shiu answers, which doesn’t shock you. You were thinking of something similar. Shiu is an attractive man in his late thirties, of course he isn’t alone. “Why do you ask?”

“Just wanted to know.” You respond, and he’s not convinced. He wonders if he should let it go and change the topic, or pressure you to give you an answer.

“Hmm… Right.” He’s clearly sarcastic, and he has a smirk on his face. You roll your eyes before a sigh leaves your lips. 

“I’m serious.” You claim. He certainly isn’t going to drop the subject now. He’s curious why you have a sudden curiosity about his love life.

“Then why are you suddenly interested in my love life?” He questions, and you chew on the inside of your cheek. You have no idea how you’re going to respond.

“My friend just… Said something and yeah.” You choose to tell him a partial truth, not everything, hoping that he’ll drop the subject. He’s Toji’s friend, of course he’s just like Toji. Stubborn.

“Something… Like?” He makes you take a deep breath. You’re getting embarrassed, but it’s too late to try to change the subject now.

“I told her that I want Toji to stop. I’m getting soft for him again and I know that it’ll end badly.” You confess, and Shiu takes a moment to think about it. What you said doesn’t answer anything, leaving him to wonder what your friend said.

“Oh, this something will end up screwing me over.” Is the only conclusion he can draw, and you can’t help but laugh before humming in agreement. Shiu lightly bites down his lip before saying, “I do owe you one.”

“This isn’t something you can help me with, I assure you.” You tell him, and he furrows his brows. He’s confused, wondering what it is. What’s something that he can’t possibly help you with that will upset Toji?

“What– Oh! Oh….” He comes to the realization of what it is, at least a vague idea of it. The mere thought makes his cheeks pink, completely flustered at the thought of being intimate with you. He briefly looks at you, and he can tell that you share those same feelings. 

He’s always viewed you as Toji’s wife. Sure, Toji’s very attractive wife, but still, Toji’s wife. Now you’re not just that, but the mother of Toji’s child. Before either of you can say anything else, he gets to your apartment complex. 

“Thank you for actually taking me home this time, Shiu.” You try to laugh it off since the car ride surely turned awkward. Shiu’s eyes focus on your rosy lips as you speak, before looking up at your eyes. He licks his lips as impure thoughts begin to fill up his mind– He’s thought similar stuff before but never while you were right next to him.

“Yeah, it was no problem.” He answers, and you begin to get out of the car. His voice stops you, and you feel a chill run down your spine when he says, “I can help you.”

“Huh?” You’re not sure if you’re listening right. Did Shiu really just say that?

“I can help you make sure that Toji stops.” Shiu confirms, and your eyes widen. Toji’s best friend just told you that he’d help you… Maybe Shiu isn’t getting what your friend said.

“You do know that what my friend was suggesting was me sleeping with someone else, right?” You want to make sure he isn’t thinking of something else, and it shocks you when he nods in response. You’re slowly blinking as you try to process the information. You’re staring at him, and he’s avoiding your gaze. 

You clear your throat before saying, “I appreciate the offer, Shiu, but…” 

But what? This is a great opportunity, also the fact that you find Shiu handsome is a bonus but you can’t do it to Toji. You still care for Toji and you can’t do this to him. Shiu is his best friend, you don’t want to harm their friendship.

“But we can’t do that to Toji.” Is what you tell him, and Shiu slightly nods. Because even when you aren’t together, you put Toji’s feelings above your own. You’re not planning to get back together, but you don’t plan on hurting him.

“Sorry–” He begins but his words come to a stop when you kiss his cheek. If his face was warm before, he’s certainly burning up now. 

“Thank you for the offer though, I’m flattered.”

[magniloquent-raven]

Day 4: Supportive Boyfriends

and for my next (LATE, SO LATE) @bucktommypositivityweek contribution. KITTEN FIC.

(read on ao3)

**

The 118 doesn't have a baby box.

In fact there aren't any in the state of California at all. Buck looked it up, after Maddie's postpartum episode. When half his family was missing and there wasn't much he could do besides wait and... think about things.

So he thought about safe haven laws. Read up on the training seminars for first responders who want to be better equipped to deal with hand-offs. Read a bunch of other stuff he sort of wishes he hadn't. Spent the next week haunted by articles about abandoned children.

He considered talking to Bobby about it. Only partly to ask him if they should get a box for the firehouse. Partly because Buck wasn't sure how he felt about the whole thing, and Bobby always seemed to have answers. But he never worked up the nerve to broach the subject.

And now. Bobby's not captain anymore, and Buck really can't imagine Gerrard giving a shit about any of this.

So, they don't have a box. But.

Well, this isn't a human baby. It's not like the same rules apply.

Buck has to wonder if wires got crossed somewhere, because. Someone left a kitten. Outside the firehouse.

Buck was just going to grab something—he can't remember what—from his Jeep, when he spotted an unlabelled cardboard box on the pavement, up against the side of the building. His first thought was bomb.

Until it meowed at him. A tiny, high-pitched peep of a meow.

Kind of scared the shit out of him, if he's being honest.

There's only one. All alone in the box. A poofy grey thing wriggling around half buried in an off-white towel. Like a very ambitious dust bunny with big round blue eyes and skinny legs. It wobbles slowly over a fold in the towel with all the effort of someone scaling a mountain.

Buck crouches next to the box, and pokes a finger inside.

"Hey, buddy," he murmurs, holding very still while the kitten inches towards his hand and squeaks. It's unclear whether there are teeth in that little maw. That means it's really young, right? Too young to be left alone for very long.

Shit, how is he going to explain this to Gerrard? He's still got, like, 12 hours left on his shift, but someone has to feed this thing. How long can kittens go without food?

Oh, it does have teeth. Really teeny ones. They're ineffectively poking his knuckle.

Buck fishes his phone out of his jacket—with the hand that isn't currently being drooled on—intending to go to Google for answers. How to figure out how old a kitten is. How often do kittens need to be fed. Do cats get separation anxiety. He has a million questions.

Only he doesn't pull up his browser. He calls Tommy.

It's a whim. Barely a seed of an idea. But when he unlocked his phone the first thing he saw was their text history (he'd been complaining about Gerrard off-and-on all morning, and Tommy had been sending random updates about all the chores he'd been getting done—his last message was a picture of a mop with no context) and he just thought... Tommy will know what to do. Not in so many words, more a feeling. Comfort and certainty, just from seeing Tommy's picture in a little bubble at the top of his screen.

"Evan?" Tommy answers almost immediately, and there's a subtle undercurrent of worry in his tone. Buck winces. Right, calling out of the blue while he's at work would look. Bad.

"I'm okay!" He says quickly, all in one breath. Then pauses. The kitten squints up at him, meowing again, long and loud. Its whole fluffy face scrunches with the effort.

"...What was that?"

"Uh. That would be why I called, actually."

—

Gerrard is less of an obstacle than Buck feared he'd be. Because he's holed up in his office doing paperwork when Buck sneaks in with the kitten, and Buck's decided he has no intention of letting him know the cat was ever here.

Tommy promised he'd come get her.

Buck didn't even really ask, and wasn't planning on asking. Didn't have any plan whatsoever, in fact. He just wanted to know if Tommy knew anything about taking care of kittens, and suddenly Tommy's voluntarily sacrificing the rest of his day off to scope out vets and pet supply stores and whatever else Buck's helpless little friend might need.

He hung up hours ago and his insides still feel warm and goopy about it. He can't stop thinking about the gentle fondness that softened Tommy's voice after Buck explained the situation. Buck would wrap himself up in it like a blanket if he could.

Tommy's getting so kissed when he shows up.

In the meantime, Buck's sitting upstairs, working his way through the dozen or so tabs he opened up after googling kitten care.

He thinks the one he found might be around three weeks old (ears not quite unfurled, can't sheathe claws yet, legs unsteady but mobile). And possibly a girl. She did not care for being picked up and turned over, and the indignant squirming made it difficult to tell what's going on down there. But he's almost certain he's right.

She was shrieking up a storm about it, and he was worried if he took any longer she'd alert Gerrard. (She didn't. She did, however, draw the attention of about half the firehouse.)

"You are disgustingly cute," Chimney coos, scratching under her chin with the tip of one finger. She's lifted her head as high as she can and her eyes are squinted happily. Buck can hear her purring from across the room. "Yes you are. Hen, can you get a picture of this?"

Hen pulls out her phone. "Sure... why?" She asks, leaning over his shoulder to snap a picture and eye him with mild suspicion.

"Jee. She'll wanna see when I tell her about my day."

Her expression softens to a smile. "I'll text it to you." She taps her screen a couple times. "Just had to make sure you weren't planning on calendar campaigning again."

Chimney grins. "Nah, my calendar days are behind me. The only person who gets shirtless pictures of me now is my wife."

"Gross," Buck says without conviction. He narrows his eyes at the site he's scrolling through, swiping away a Join Our Mailing List! popup. "You guys don't think she's cold do you? Are her ears warm? It's only, like, 70 today and we don't know how long she was out there."

Hen and Chim exchange glances, and then, disturbingly in sync, look from the cat to Buck. Chim gives her ear a perfunctory poke, which she does not appreciate as much as chin scritches, "She's fine, man."

Hen waves a hand at Buck when he opens his mouth again, "We're medical professionals. And in my medically professional opinion. She's fine."

"Okay, but—"

"Hey guys, look who stopped b—uhhh. Is that a cat?" Eddie slows to a stop at the top of the stairs, blinking at the kitten on the couch. "When did we get a cat?"

"Couple hours ago," Buck says, still frowning at Hen and Chimney. "Where have you been?"

"I found him polishing the engine."

Buck shoots out of his seat. "Tommy!"

He only half-hears Eddie muttering, "Favouritism," as he scuttles around the chair to meet Tommy halfway between the stairs and the sitting area. Tommy has just enough time to smile—and it warms Buck, like it always does, with a spark caught in his chest for safekeeping—and say hi before Buck's on him, palms clapped on either side of his face, smushing their lips together.

He makes a bit of a show of it, dramatically swooping in, because he knows the big smacking MWAH will make Tommy laugh, and he likes the way that feels rumbling against his chest.

Buck taps their noses together. "Hey," he says, savouring the mirth sparkling in Tommy's eyes for a second before kissing him again, properly this time.

His brain goes sort of fuzzy when Tommy's palm cups the back of his neck.

Someone in the distance wolf-whistles.

When they finally come up for air Tommy asks, "What was that for?" a little breathlessly, which is doing things to Buck.

"Mmn...y'know. For being you."

Tommy raises his eyebrows, kiss-reddened lips curling fondly. "Okay."

"Hey, Tommy. Good to see you," Chim calls in a very pointed way.

Right, public setting. Workplace. Friends watching. Buck exhales slowly, and tries to think about anything other than how much he wants to bite that bit of clavicle peeking out of the collar of Tommy's shirt. Like the fact that Tommy's hands are warm, and he's sort of rubbing his fingertips over the short stubbly bits of hair on the back of Buck's head, and Buck's lips are still tingling a little, and—no wait, not that either.

Tommy pulls away first, which is probably for the best, but also very sad. The corner of his mouth twitches like he can see Buck thinking it. He curls his index finger and gently taps Buck's chin with the knuckle before he turns to the group.

"Howie," he says, not even pretending to be contrite in the face of Chim's mock-judgement. "Hen."

"Tommy." Hen fails to contain her smirk.

Some time during all the kissing, Eddie moved over to the couch. He's sat next to the kitten, watching her attempt to groom her paw with all the grace of a toddler who's only a little bit sure they know how to hold a brush. She keeps starting and stopping at random intervals, sometimes licking the cushion beside her, sometimes sticking her tongue out at thin air.

She's so cute it makes Buck's chest hurt. It's a little much while he's still loopy from making out with his boyfriend.

Then Tommy goes and crouches next to the couch so he can get eye-level with the kitten while she sniffs his hand, talking to her all calm and soft with smile-lines crinkling his cheeks, and. Buck might need to lie down for a bit. Like, on top of Tommy, preferably.

The kitten seems to like him too, and he really can't blame her when she crawls up Tommy's sleeve to perch on his shoulder.

She looks so much smaller cuddled up on Tommy. He reaches up to steady her, and she's almost entirely obscured by his hand.

God, is it wrong that he's getting a little hot under the collar about that? He just looks so strong and competent and at the same time, like, gentle. Buck knows how it feels to be touched tenderly by those hands, and apparently just seeing it happen does not affect him any less. In fact it's only added dimensions to his desires.

"I should probably get going," Tommy says, bringing Buck back down to Earth with a resounding splat.

He opens his mouth to protest, then closes it. He's right. The last thing Buck wants is for Tommy to have another run-in with Gerrard, and they don't know how long the old bastard's gonna be occupied.

"Mhm, run while you still can," Chimney pipes up. "Before our dear old captain smells an opportunity to ruin someone's day."

"He does seem to have a sixth sense for that," Eddie adds sullenly. Buck makes a note to ask him what that was about. Later.

"I'll walk you out," Buck says, trying not to sound like a pouting child. He's fairly certain he fails, because Tommy laces their fingers together and gives his hand a comforting squeeze.

He says his goodbyes, the whole time being careful not to dislodge the kitten while she crawls across his shoulders.

Buck goes through the list of kitten care basics he memorized as they make their way to the parking lot. It's...more than he thought it was, honestly. It starts to feel overwhelming as he goes on, and on, and on. He's running out of time to get it all out, and he feels like it's just now sinking in his huge this responsibility that he's dumping in Tommy's lap is.

"You're sure you don't mind taking her?" The question bursts out of Buck before they make it to Tommy's car. "W-we didn't really, I mean. We talked about it over the phone, but..."

"Yeah, now that I've seen her she does seem like a real handful."

The kitten yawns, and curls up into a tiny grey ball in the crook of Tommy's neck.

Well. Alright.

"It's just, t-they need a lot of attention when they're that young, and I kinda just, just dropped this on you."

"Evan." Tommy gives him a look. "Are you worried that you baby-trapped me?"

Okay, when he puts it like that. Maybe a little bit. But also now he's having complicated yearning feelings that he really should not be having this early in the relationship.

Buck's pretty sure he looks like a deer in the headlights right now, because Tommy's doing his damnedest to pretend he isn't laughing at him.

He tugs Buck's hand, leading him the rest of the way to his car.

The backseat is full of cat stuff. Containers of milk-replacement powders, and a shiny plastic litter box, and toys, so many toys, baggies of fake mice and feathery things, just. So much stuff. Piles of it.

"I called up a friend who used to foster kittens. She had a lot of advice. And then I got a little carried away."

"I, uh. See that," Buck laughs breathlessly.

"Over the phone, you sounded like this meant a lot to you? And I think I got really attached to the idea of...this. Taking care of her for you. With you." He sounds hesitant, like he's trying not to say too much, and Buck can't stand it—

"I love you so much," he says in a rush.

"Well, good," Tommy purses his lips around a smile, eyes bright and crinkled at the corners. He reaches up to his shoulder, like he's absent-mindedly checking to see if the kitten's still there. "Wouldn't want her to grow up in a broken home."

Buck huffs a laugh.

"And I love you too."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

the girl next door 12

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

“How about it, Holly?” Steve’s voice brings you back from your trance.

You only realise then that you’ve zoned out. You look down at your plate, your burger half-eaten and the salad mostly gone. As your mom babbled on, you’d lost yourself staring out at the lawn. It didn’t really matter, she barely acknowledged you since you came out with dinner.

You glance between her and Steve, lost in the conversation already underway.

“I’d love that, it will be nice,” your mom answers, beaming across the table; the shade of the umbrella gathering in the lines of her face.

“How about you, kiddo? Grab you pajamas and join the party,” Steve looks at you.

“Huh?” You and your mom utter in unison.

“Both of us?” She asks in a brittle quaver.

“Yeah, sure, it’ll be a nice way to connect. Holly, I know you’re a mother first, it’s a package deal.”

“Mm, yeah, I just... I misinterpreted,” she puts her hand against her neck. “A sleepover, that’s fun.”

“I felt bad about last time. Don’t want anyone left out of movie night. I got popcorn, mph,” he turns to you again, “do you like cream soda? I got some cane stuff in the glass bottles--”

“That’s a lot of sugar,” your mother murmurs.

“It’s one night,” he shrugs, “it won’t hurt. Lots to go around.”

“I guess...” she forces a smile.

“Well, we can always hold off. I did promise ice cream,” he sits back and claps his thighs. “You all done?”

You stare at the table then look up in the silence. You don’t realise he’s talking to you. You nod. Your stomach won’t settle. It’s been off all day; you wonder if maybe the maple syrup was a bit too much yesterday.

“I’ll wrap it up for you, you can have it later if you want,” he stands and takes your plate, then your mother’s and his own. Where you nibbled through barely half, they had nothing left.

You sit back and cross your arms as Steve goes inside. Your mother sighs and glares past you. She’s annoyed even if you hadn’t made the decision yourself. You didn’t even accept the invitation.

“Sorry,” you mumble.

“Whatever,” she rolls her eyes, “you just can’t help but get in the way.”

She leans forward. When she’s angry, her tremors worsen. She’s barely able to keep her head still.

“I didn’t...”

“Oh, be quiet. He only feels bad for you because he knows I can’t get rid of you,” she sneers. “He knows you have nothing go for you. No job, no friends, no hobbies.” She sits back and huffs, “I tried to raise you better. I really did. I don’t know what happened.”

You lower your head. Maybe you can come up with a lie. If you can find an excuse to leave, she won’t be able to hate you.

“I could say I’m not feeling well--”

“Just stay out of the way,” she snarls.

You sniff and turn away, hiding the gloss of tears in your eyes. Sometimes, you don’t do anything at all and she’s mad. You hear Steve coming back out and you wipe your nose, keeping your face down as you shrink.

You can be invisible. You’re good at that.

🏠

Not wanting to seem ungrateful, you accept a bowl of ice cream and finish it. Strawberry. It's delicious but you just can't enjoy it. You're uneasy, unsure.

You go to grab some pajamas, your mother issuing another warning before you return to Steve's. You wear a pair of polka dot bottoms and a jersey shirt. You'll just be watching tv, and hopefully, if you can settle down, sleeping.

Your mother sits on the couch. You can see the fatigue quivering in her lip and drooping in her eyelids. She never did as much before your new neighbour. You only ever stayed inside and wilted in the sunlight.

"Holly, you need anything?" Steve asks as he pushes up the ottoman, "how about you put your feet up. I just wanted to show her something."

"What's that?" Your mom asks.

"Oh, yeah, well, I know she likes art so I wanted to show her my studio. Or office, whatever you wanna call it."

"Mm, right. Upstairs, huh?" She grumbles.

"Right," he confirms, "we won't be too long. You can find a movie." He hands her the remote, "I had some extra pencils and stuff I found on the move. Figured she could take em off my hands."

"Sure, sure," she yawns and leans her head in her hands. You can't tell if she's witholding herself out of exhaustion or for Steve's benefit.

"Come on. We'll just pop up for minute," Steve nudges your arm.

You hug one arm across your stomach and push your shoulder up. You take his direction as he points you actoss the room. You go to the stairs and climb one by one.

Further down, he takes you into another room, just across from an open bedroom. You shuffle inside and can't help marvel at the interior. The walls are hung with still lifes in pencil, charcoal, and ink, and an easel stands by the window, a large drafting table at the center of the room.

"You do these?" You ask bluntly.

"Ha, yeah, I... when I saw your sketchbook, I admit, I got a bit excited. A fellow artist."

"You're an artist? You make money off of this?"

"Sure do," he smiles proudly. "Did some time in the army then had to get out, find some peace. Always found painting calms me."

"Oh."

"I wanted to say something sooner but I wanted to show you," he enters and brushes by you, hand dragging across your back. "Let me find those pencils."

You nod and pace cautiously around the table. There's an open sketchbook. A woman's naked back greets you, a piece of fabric draped around her hips as her refined profile is etched perfectly.

He's good. Better than you. You back away as he sorts through the shelf.

'Ah, here," he turns to you again, "pencils, sketchbook, oh and maybe you'll want these watercolours. I was sent two by accident."

"Oh, uh, thanks, but... you don't have to."

"You're talented. You'll make good use of them, I know it."

"Mm, I... try."

"There's this place I know. Great view. Maybe you can come one day. Good fodder," he offers. "Trees, water, and the sunset..."

"Maybe," you agree half-heartedly.

"Then maybe you can bring it to my next art show."

"Art show?" You mutter, eyes rounding.

"Sure. It'll be good for you. I know you take care of your mom and that's sweet but you gotta make your way. Eventually."

"I know," you slump and take the sketchbooks and flat tins from him. "Thank you. I..." you look at the brand names. You know they're expensive from the catalogues you look at but never buy from. "No one... these are so nice. I appreciate it."

"No problem, sweetie. Let me know if you need anything else. Hell, if you want a quiet place to work..." he stops behind you and looks around, "even just an escape..."

“That's okay,” you say as you go back into the hall.

You head back downstairs, the pencils clattering just a little in your hands. As you enter the living room, you hear a snort. Your mom's head lolls back against the couch as she snores. Steve walks into you from behind as he stops too late.

“Oop,” he frames your hips for just a moment as he presses again your back then parts. “Sleepyhead,” he chuckles and sidles past you, a waft of his cologne filling your lungs. He didn't smell so strongly before. “Well, guess it's your choice, sweetie,” he takes the remote and holds it out to you.

“Oh, uh, you choose,” you try to wave him off but he pushes the remote into your hand.

“You can put your stuff on the table,” he points to the sketchbook clutches against your chest, “better get cozy while I get the popcorn going.”

Before you can argue, he's gone. You turn to look at your mom. Why did she have to fall asleep? She could've said no to all of this, that she's too tired. Now it's you and Steve. Hopefully, the movie keeps the chatter to a minimum.

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - Japan is Winning on Kisses & Other Alternate Realities

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

March 2024 Wk 4

Ongoing Series - Thai

Two Worlds (Thurs IQIYI) ep 3 of 10 - It would be great if we got the alternative romance with dead Kram from Tai’s perspective (JBL style.) Still I like this show. It’s a little bit like I Feel You Linger in the Air only with a love triangle. And while I'm not a fan of triangles as a general rule, I don’t mind it here because the set up is clever. Wayu and  ao are fun sides too. It sure is moving very quickly, which I like. I’m not entirely sure what’s going on. But that’s normal for me with this kind of Thai drama. 

Deep Night (Thurs iQiyi) ep 4 of 8 - They are extremely sappy boyfriends. I love that mom has a secret gf. Could we please have more of them? The love triangle sides are ridiculous, but I do like that it’s all out in the open. I also like they are actually addressing the complicated parental dynamics of owning a sex club. Honestly, I think Khem should have to be a host too. Learn him the right way, girl!

City of Stars (Fri iQIYI) ep 9 of 12 - It’s good, I like the fallout and them actually having to deal with crazy fans and past relationships. They’re so good at communicating it’s kind of a pleasure to watch them suffer through external pressures, because I have faith that they can make it through.

To Be Continued (Thai C3 Thailand grey) ep 6 of 8 - They are such cute puppy dads and so clearly meant to be together, the fact that they aren’t is just frustrating. The fight thing was stupid. And not a whole lot happened... plus singing. I’m getting fatigued with this one. 

1000 Years Old ep 7 of 12 - Did I miss something happening, or did nothing happen? 

Kiseki Chapter 2 (Sun iQIYI) ep 2 of 6 - It’s so boring, there’s so much guitar playing, and it got weirdly voyeuristic (in a very much not sexy way). I’m totally out. DNF

Close Friend Season 3: Soju Bomb! (Weds iQIYI) ep 3 of 6 - I can’t tell if this is trying to be a BL Romancing the Stone, or a BL Hangover, or both. The problem with situational comedy is it must be both situational and comedic, not just option one. The problem with calling something BL, is that it must be BL. This show got 1 of 3 claims correct. 33% is not a passing grade. DNF 

Honestly, it's the HANDS with these two. They do beautiful beautiful things with their hands. If you're one of those hands-obsessed BLabies you should be watching LIBTSTA!

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Unknown (Taiwan Tues Youku YouTube & Viki) ep 6 of 11 - So the worst finally happened. The mountain of pain has fallen down upon us. And now, hopefully in the second half things get better for our boys. But what a rough ride. Normally, this is not my style of BL, but everyone is doing such a gorgeous job with it, I can’t fault it… except that it hurts. The red thread symbolism was elegantly done. I’d like to hope we get a reunion in the next one, but knowing this style of series they’re gonna draw it out. There's gonna be a more pain first.

Love is Better the Second Time Around AKA Koi wo Suru nara Nidome ga Joto (Japan Weds Gaga) ep 4 of 6 - Those fuck me puppy dog eyes were perfectly executed. I would not have been able to resist either. Gosh they are so damn cute. This is a great show.

Jazz for Two (Korea Gaga/grey) eps 1-2 of 8 - This comes from the Shoulder to Cry On team so I'm scared, but this one is all actors* not idols so maybe they'll be braver. Boy howdy does it have a fantastic opening sequence. Also the lead is fucking adorable. Mr Broody McBroodypants is cute too. Korea sure loves “pretty but broken.” On the JBL end of the spectrum, is everyone in love with their siblings? That’s weird. The dining room scene was painful. All in all, it's good, I'm intrigued. Let's see how you go little show.

I stand absolutely corrected the lead is a member of NEWKIDD (in my defense I'd never heard of them until Build Up last month). I did recognize him from To My Star because at the time I thought he was too pretty to be only a side character.

AntiReset (Taiwan Fri Viki/Gaga) ep 10 fin - Again there was overuse of previous footage and maudlin navel-gazing grief over something we knew was going to happen. So I didn’t really feel much emotional connection to the drama. 7 year time gap.? t was a cute reunion but the moral quandary never really got resolved. I don’t know how to rate this, I’m not sure I will ever watch it again, so that is a big mark against it.

There’s nothing objectively wrong with this BL except how upsetting it is because of the foundational pygmalion story - grown man falls in love with an android who is basically both his slave and, by maturity level, a child. Yet that premise is crystal clear from the get go, so we watch it eyes open. The actors are cute, the romance sweet, the physical chemistry on point (of course, it’s Taiwan) and yet I was left ultimately unsettled by the concept, content, and plot. 7/10 

My Strawberry Film (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 7 of 8 - I'm so ready for this to be over, and for Gaga to have something good on. Soon please?

It's done, ready to binge, but I suck

What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 (Japan Gaga) 10 eps

It's airing but...

Graduation Countdown (Taiwan YouTube) - It's too much to ask me to keep up with 2 minute verticals, I don't have that kind of TikTok endurance training. Waiting to binge.

A Secretly Love (Thai Sat WeTV grey) 10 eps - I watched the first ep but grey is too much work for this inferior of a show. I may pick up and binge if it gets distribution but for now, it gets a DNF from me. KimCop might have held this crap together but Kim without Cop? No thank you.

Lady Boy Friends (Thai WeTV grey) 16 eps - reminds me a bit too much of Diary of Tootsies only high school. Not my thing. DNF unless it turns a corner and is truly amazing.

Tangential to the genre

There has been the occasional discussion on this topic here in this little corner of tumblr so I thought there might be a few intersted in this podcast: AmericanThaiGuy Ron Weaver on the Complicated Issue of Racism in Thailand (The Bangkok Podcast)

Thailand passed its Marriage Equality bill through the lower house. It's expected to pass the high house and get signed by the King, but that hasn't quite happened yet.

And MaxTul dropped a photo shoot.

Next Week Looks Like This:

Starting Soon

3/31 Only Boo! (Thai GMMTV YouTube) 12 eps - New main couple for GMMTV in an idol romance about a boy who dances good and a food stand vendor. Other side of the tracks grumpy/sunshine pair who fall deeply in love but, of course, baby boy idol can't date. Boyband but from GMMTV? Control your singing and I'm game.

3/31 The Next Prince (Thai ????) 12 eps - trailer. ZeeNew in a fantasy/historical set in a palace where Zee plays a knight and Nu a prince - YES PLEASE. (Apparently this is just the pilot, not the start of the actual show, see comments.)

4/1 Love is like a Cat (Korea ????) 12 eps - This completed filming Aug 2022(!) which means there have been serious problems with post-production. This is another of Silkwood's Korean+Thai colab projects. Mew Suppasit plays a rookie film star, called the Cat Prince (for his cold arrogance) who goes up against a charismatic puppyish animal daycare director (JM of JUST B). There is a side romance (love triangle?) with a veterinarian. Geonu of JUST B is also in the cast. Dual languages.

Hum, trash-watch-a-licious?

4/3 We Are (Thai GMMTV YouTube iQIYI) 12 eps - University ensemble BL featuring PondPhuwin, WinnySatang, AouBoom, MarcPawinPoon - basically the good kind of messy gay friendship group (so more My Engineer and less Only Friends). Looks a bit like the Kiss series but everyone is queer. I'm IN!

4/11 Living With Him AKA Kare no Iru Seikatsu (Japan ????) 10 eps - Kindly Ryota goes off to uni only to find his new roommate is his childhood bestie, Kazuhito. Kazuhito doesn’t have a girlfriend and Ryota tries to help him figure out why, they fall in love along the way. Same director as Old Fashion Cupcake.

4/11 Gray Shelter AKA Gray Currents (Korea ????) 4 eps - SooHyuk is only just surviving and reunites with YoonDae, an old friend. They end up living together. One of the leads is played by Choco of Choco Milk Shake.

4/18 At 25:00, in Alaska AKA 25 Ji, Akasaka de (Japan Gaga - may not be global) 10 eps - Yuki lands his first starring role in a BL drama alongside superstar Asami (previously his senior at uni). Said superstar suggests they form a sham relationship until filming concludes. As they actually begin to fall in love, the spotlight begins to burn.

Seriously? You're killing me with these titles, boys.

4/26 My Stand-In (Thai iQIYI) 12 eps - adaptation of Chinese novel "Professional Body Double" by Shui Qiang Cheng. Stars Up (Lovely Writer) and Poom (Bake Me Please) directed by the same team as KP (not a recommendation IMHO - my biggest criticism of that show was the clashing directing styles). This one looks well complicated, lemme try: Joe is a stuntman for famous actor Tong. Joe falls in love with Ming but Ming sees Joe as nothing more than a Tong-replacement. After learning this horrible truth, Joe dies. Joe then wakes up in the body of another man also named Joe. He manages to rebuild the same life as before—with the same people eventually re-meeting Ming. Ming wants Joe back but Joe doesn't understand why. But Ming seems to know what's going on and wants to give him some kind of explanation.

I'm exhausted just trying to describe the plot.

Knock-Knock Boys (Thai WeTV) - 4 college friends conspire to help their friend lose his virginity. Familiar faces like Seng (yes, Billy's previous partner) and Best, news here.

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

NOTE: It looks like one of my personal favorites of last year Unintentional Love Story is getting a spin off!

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENT

Just these two, in my head, rent free. Thanks Japan!

(Last week)

Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are too much work.

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @rocketturtle4

If ya wanna be tagged each week leave a comment and I will add you to the template. Easy peesy. (With so many tags when does a weekly tumblr post become a newsletter? That is this week's philosophical question...)

[ladykailitha]

Of Butterflies and Backstrokes Part 12

Hello!! This lovely story is completed. And next week will be almost all getting this story out to you. So Sunday, Monday, and Friday will be the last three chapters of this story. So you're all in for a treat.

In this Eddie is horny on main, gets into some trouble, and vows to find out if it's connected to Steve.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

~

Steve walked away from that first meet with Billy feeling more than a little smug. Billy’s two athletes had done well enough. Chrissy Cunningham winning bronze over all in her division and Jason Carver winning silver in his.

But the thing that really made Steve’s day was that Jason’s time for the silver, was slower in masters than Eddie’s time in intermediate.

Steve made sure to focus on getting Eddie’s time in the backstroke as close as he could to the current record.

He wasn’t sure if Eddie’s coaches had lucked out in middle school, or if training Eddie on the backstroke that young was why he was as good at it as he was, but in Steve’s mind it didn’t matter. With Eddie’s arms and longer torso, he was like a knife in the water, just slicing through it.

When Eddie showed up at the next meet, Jason was sure to get in his face. Eddie had changed into his black Speedo and was braiding his hair the way Steve taught him. His was never as tight as Steve’s but at the Olympics Steve wouldn’t be his coach and wouldn’t be able to do it for him.

“You must think you’re pretty special after that performance from last time, huh?” Jason huffed. “With the judges falling all over themselves to put you in the higher division, but now you’re playing with the big boys now. I will wipe the floor with you.”

Eddie looked up at the other swimmer. Jason cut the all-American boy next door stereotype to a tee. His perfect tan, white teeth, blond hair and blue eyes. His toned body barely contained by his red Speedo.

If Jason hadn’t started shit, Eddie wouldn’t have said no to tapping that ass. But as it was, he was refraining. He knew what Billy was going for with this guy. He was the replacement Steve Harrington. Like original wasn’t one of a kind.

Eddie finished braiding his hair and stood up, meeting Jason eye to eye. “You can’t even wipe the floor with your own ass, man. My time was better than yours and it’s going to be again.” He patted Jason on his chest and then turned around. He grabbed his cap and goggles throwing the rest of his stuff in the locker and slammed it shut. He pulled on his team jacket, shoving the goggles and cap in one of the pockets.

“All you are is a one trick pony,” Jason sneered. “You might beat me in the backstroke but I am the better swimmer all around.” He gave Eddie a little push before shouldering past him.

Eddie just shook his head and followed the idiot out.

He walked right up to Steve with the biggest grin. “Looks like I got them against the lane ropes, coach. They’re running scared.”

Steve frowned, but when Eddie told him about his encounter with Jason just now, he grinned. “Certainly sounds like it. So I looked into who his charges were.”

“Yeah?” Max asked eagerly. She had just finished her heat and was going over her times with Steve when Eddie came out of the locker room.

“He is Jason Carver,” Steve explained, “been all over the country with all the best coaches and tutors. But he’s twenty-two and never made it to the Olympics so people were starting to say he was washed up, until Billy got his claws in him. If he wasn’t so Sunday school vibes, I would suspect doping with the sudden change.”

“I hope it shrinks his penis,” Max said darkly.

Robin and Eddie giggled and Eddie high-fived her.

Steve rolled his eyes. “The girl is Chrissy Cunningham. She’s only eighteen and she barely missed getting on the women’s team in the last Olympics, having come in seventh. She is highly favored on getting on the team for London. She didn’t need Billy’s help, she just came as a packaged deal with Jason as he’s her boyfriend.”

Robin rolled her eyes and scoffed under her breath, “Straights!”

Max squawked in outrage. “Hey, we’re not all weirdos like that.”

They all laughed.

Then it was time for Eddie’s first match of the day. Thankfully he had been placed at the other end of the pool from Jason as Steve wasn’t sure the guy wouldn’t try and push Eddie off or something.

Then the gun went off. Eddie arched backwards into the pool as graceful as a butterfly and just as beautiful. Eddie was focused on his stroke as he whirled around to make his way back through his lane.

He touched the pad and yanked off his goggles. He saw his time and hollered. It was even better than last time and there was no doubt he had beaten Jason.

And immediately as soon as Jason got out of the pool he ran right up to the the judges screaming about how Eddie must be doping.

The judge, a poor belabored man in his fifties pinched the bridge of his nose. “Mr. Carver, Mr. Munson has already submitted to a drug test after his last outstanding performance and he has passed with flying colors. Please go sit down.”

Billy came up and led a very upset Jason away from the judges murmuring things about how easy it is to fake a urine test.

Eddie just scoffed and turned to Steve as they walked passed them. “If he wanted to see my dick so bad, all he had to do was ask nicely.”

Jason whirled around to start something, Billy held him back. “He’s just saying that to get you riled up. Just ignore him.”

Jason walked backwards, glaring at Eddie. Eddie waved his fingers at him and then turned back to Steve and them.

“Some people take these things too seriously,” he huffed, putting his hands on his hips dramatically. “You should be able to have little fun outside of the pool.”

Steve grinned up at him. “As long as your head remains in the game in the pool, I really don’t care what you do out of it. Drugs and smoking aside. If it’s legal and ain’t hurting anyone, have fun, go nuts.”

Eddie grinned back.

All the men finished their heats, Eddie winning gold again.

“Next up are the state competitions,” Steve said after they had come back out from getting changed. “I expect you’ll both do really well there as well. The real challenge will come on the national level. Billy just brought his team out here to fuck with me and is really pissed it didn’t work the way he thought it would.”

“Also,” Robin said, “I’ve hearing around that since the Olympic trials are being held in Nebraska this time round and is trying to horn in on our facility because it’s been where the trials have been held in the past.”

“Joyce would laugh him out of her office if he tried that,” Max said rolling her eyes.

Robin put her hands over her mouth and giggled. “What if she already has and that’s why he’s so pissed?”

They all shared gleeful glances and then all agreed that without any evidence one way or the other that that was exactly what happened and no one was going to convince them otherwise.

Steve turned to Eddie. “Do you need a ride home? Wayne caught me before he left to say that he had to go to work.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said with a sigh of relief. “If you could. I was going to try and call Jeff to come get me, but if you’re willing, I’m ready.”

Steve nodded and turned to Robin, “Susan said she was driving both of you girls home, is that still okay?”

Robin nodded and then left with Max to go find her mom, leaving Eddie and Steve alone.

Eddie reached out and touched Steve’s elbow. “Hey are you okay? I saw that you were much further from the pool than you usually are.”

Steve blushed and ducked his head. He scratched his cheek as he pursed his lips to stop their quivering. He nodded.

“I need you to breathe with me, Stevie,” Eddie cooed, taking both of his wrists and rubbing them with his thumb. “In for five, hold, and out for seven. The water isn’t close enough for you to fall in. It’s ten feet away. You can’t fall in. In for five, hold, and out for seven.”

Steve closed his eyes and did as Eddie bid, relaxing into the warmth of the younger man’s timbre. Slowly he opened his eyes. “Thank you.”

Eddie grinned back at him. “No problem!”

Steve coughed, and looked away. “I should probably get you home, before you turn into a pumpkin.”

“Sure thing, Stevie,” his voice was warm and tender, taking the suddenly change as the dodge it was.

They walked out to Steve’s car and Eddie kept an eye on him all the way there.

“This isn’t a setback you know?” he murmured.

Steve let out a shuddering sigh and stopped a moment to close his eyes. “I do know that, but at same time whenever this happens I just feel like I failed.” He huffed out a bitter laugh. “Dr. Hughes would probably say it’s because of my father constantly hounding me to be the best all the time...”

“I know what it feels like to have that voice in your head,” Eddie said softly, reaching out to touch his arm, “telling you everything you do is a failure and you’ll never be good enough. But it’s like breaking your leg. Sometimes you’ll have bad days, but you’ve just got to keep moving forward. Okay?”

He nodded and just buried his head into the crook of Eddie’s neck, sobbing. Eddie wrapped his arms around him and held him as he cried.

~

Eddie couldn’t win every meet, but even when he didn’t, he at least made the podium each time. He was brilliant in the water.

Max was doing well, too. Susan had given her permission to practice with Steve more days out of the week. Provided of course she kept her grades up. Eddie had opted to train with Steve and Robin twice a day.

He really wanted to put in the work required to be the best.

The Ghastly Ghouls, as Eddie had taken to calling the stuck up coaches and their charges who looked down on Eddie and Steve, started avoiding them all together. Bitter and angry that not only was Steve the better coach, despite being afraid of the pool, but Eddie was more dedicated to the sport then their athletes were.

Hannah and Lisa would often complain about how hard it was and how much the swimming time ate into their social lives.

Eddie wanted to laugh. He still hung out with his friends, had Sunday dinner with Wayne, and practiced with his band around his swimming schedule.

Hell, a lot of the times the stands would have more than just Wayne and Susan in them. Joyce and her sons, their friends, too. To root Steve on as well as Eddie and Max. Jeff, Gareth, and Brian would come as well.

He would never tell Steve this, but once he ran into Tommy and Carol outside one of their meets. The conservation was stilted and awkward as fuck, but he thought it was cute that they were trying to support Steve even if it was surreptitiously.

It was the last match of the season and Eddie was hyped. Bouncing on the balls of his feet and shaking his hands to stay warmed.

A couple of judges approached him with a jacket in the one’s hand.

“Is this your jacket?” the one asked, holding up a brand new, black bomber style jacket instead of the motorcycle leather that was so worn that it was brown along the cuffs and the zipper.

Eddie shook his head. “No, ma’am. I’ve never seen that jacket before in my life.”

Robin and Steve immediately dashed over.

“You’re saying that this isn’t your jacket?” the other judge growled. “It was found in your locker.” He put his hands into the front pocket and pulled out a little plastic baggy with what Eddie presumed was steroids. One thing he wouldn’t sell to his classmates, though many a jock asked. The risk was just too high.

Eddie shook his head. “My jacket is out in my van. I don’t bring in anymore because it’s too hot.”

“That’s not his jacket,” Steve snapped. “Robin grab me my phone. Eddie go get your jacket.”

“I’ll come with you,” the first judge growled and followed Eddie out to the parking lot.

Robin slapped the phone into Steve’s hand. He pulled up his contacts and dialed a number. “Hello, is Dr. Owens available. Yes, it’s urgent. Dr. Owens. Has Eddie tested positive for steroids, ever? No? Would you please tell that to these judges please?”

The remain judge’s eyes went wide. “Why do you have an Olympic doctor on speed dial?”

Steve just started him straight in the eye with the phone held out. The judge shakily took the phone and listened to Dr. Owens berate him for his idiocy and incompetence.

Eddie and the judge came back with Eddie’s jacket. Further cementing Eddie’s innocence.

“I think someone is trying to get Eddie out of the running,” Robin said, voice dripping with malice. “I think you’ll find whoever told to search Eddie’s locker is the one that put that there.”

“It was anonymous,” the second judge huffed.

“Convenient,” she said, darkly folding her arms in front of her chest.

“Can I swim now?” Eddie asked, his lip quivering and his voice breaking.

The judges shared defeated glances, but agreed he was allowed to compete.

Eddie made sure to get gold in every one of events that day, just further piss whoever had tried to sabotage him off.

After he stepped off the winner podium, he scanned the crowd wondering if whoever was out to get him was also the one who sabotaged Steve in ‘08.

And he was going to find out.

~

Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @gloomysoup

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @eriquin

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @chameleonhair @sadisticaltarts @dreamercec @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @mac-attack19

10- @aol19 @tartarusknight @morallyundefined

[proud-cloud]

Three Cheers for sweet revenge plot song by song according to me

My credentials are that uhmm ive listened to this album like weekly since i was like 12 and uhm im taking english A-Level (crime and tragedy) sooooo

Full disclaimer i could do a line by line analysis on pretty much all of these songs but then this would be stupidly long so im just touching on the points or lyrics i think are most important for the plot! Oh and i cant spell and im trieddd of writing academic essays so im kinda yapping ngl

HELENA

honestly i barely have anything to say here but i imagine its the demo woman’s funeral (yes ik its abt Gerard ways grandma but let me cook) kind of setting the tone and exploring his grief, creating the circumstances for his deal with the devil - especially in the bridge.

GIVE EM HELL KID

Ok so here!! Is where i start to have more to say!! So in my head the man (im just gonna call them tje man and the woman or like he/she from here on) has accepted the deal with satan to kill 1000 evil men and is basically on a killing spree? So from my immense medical knowledge of watching house im preity sure epidrene is a steroid, which like gives him energy (interestingly ive been on them a few times for asthma and they have a long list of mental side effects such as uhhh mania (fall out boy whooo) anxiety and depression which maybe foreshadows his sorta insanity towards the end as his guilt haunts him) acting as a symbol of his immense motivation to see his wife again, so verse one especially is before his downfall where hes like yippee killing people to see my wife again!! The chorus i imagine is sang by both him and the woman in heaven as they both long for each other uhm and later on in the song it does seem as if hes begining to kind of loose it a bit due to his grief? kind of foreshadowing his well everything later on in the album. In the bridge i imagine hes kind of mocking their teenage selves (linking to im not okay later on) especially in the line “we are young and we dont care” criticicing their hopefullness by comparing it to their current circumstance - ironic as it only gets worse from here.

TO THE END

Now i know this is based on a rose for emily (i tried to read it and there were a LOT of slurs from what i remeber so that was yeah) but for the sake of my silly little narrative were kinda just not gonna touch on that. So here i believe the man has been set to kill this couple, just to find the wife has killed her husband (with the “cyanide you drank” i assume) which drives him into a sort of crisis, questioning if this was what would have happened to him and his wife if she had lived and they had stayed married for this long (fueling his sexuality crisis in prison). I could go so much further into this, especially language wise but for the sake of everyones sanity ill leave it here :)

YOU KNOW WHAT THEY DO TO GUYS LIKE US IN PRISION

so hes literally in the middle of a gunfight in the centre of a resturant and the police come and theyre like come with ur arms raised high and ok so!!! Theres many people who could explain this better than me but the man gets arrested for killing all these people and gets sent to jailllll. Ive heard some people talk about it as an allegory for SA in prison and others who talk abt it as him realising his gay/bi ect and honestly i can see both. I really like the line “too much to late or just not enough of this, pain in my heart for your dying wish, i kiss your lips again!” Which, running with the latter intrepretation, suggests hes feeling regret for all the murdering hes done and is questioning if he ever did love his wife this much, and if he should move on and fix his mistakes. So to make a long story short he has a sexuality crisis in prision! Toward the end, he escapes prision and with his “friends” from jail, lilely from setting it on “fire” (i got the friends bit from the lyric “but ill go down with my friends”) escaping jail but at the cost of further loosing his sanity and grasp on morality.

IM NOT OKAY (I PROMISE)

for conveniences sake he either gets knocked out (the giggles at the end of prision i guess beinf from a concussion or something?) or just like goes to sleep somehwhere after the prison break with the other ex inmates and has a flashback to his time in high school, when he fell in love with his wife. As an audienve were kinds like dude she did not like you back then calm down which makes us question the morality of his mission, but for him it reminds him of what hes fighting for and erases the doubt he had in their love in to the end and prison. I will say im kinda pidgenholing this in with the flashback but uhm yeah!

THE GHOST OF YOU

This song acts as a continuation of his grief, back in the present day after im not okay made him remember what he was doing this all for. This basically confirms his belief that killing all these people is right because he needs to see her again. He battles with his morality knowing that she should be “never coming home” cause shes dead but then considering the deal with satan and its morality asking himself “could i? Should i?”. Towards the end, it seems like he decides killing the men to bring her back is the right thing to do. the line “If i fall, down” seems to show his commitment to her regardless of morality, hes willing to ‘fall down’ to hell if it means he gets more time with her which is ironic as he later does go to hell, but never gets to see her again.

THE JETSET LIFE IS GONNA KILL YOU

and hes back to killing again!! I think “her killing jar” is a metaphor for his fixation on his wife and the things its driving him to do. Hes trapped as if he was in a jar by the deal he made with satan for her. Its kind of difficult to explain but essentially hes assuring himself that hes doing it all for her and its all worth it as his sanity slowly dissipates, which i believe is demonstrated through the lyric “pull the plug” kinda symbolising hes giving up on himself and dedicating everything to her. Now this is obviously unhealthily obsessive and is the point where we definately start to question if what hes doing is right - is he not essentially playing god now? Should one man act as judge, jury and executioner?

INTERLUDE

ok its literally just the interlude but here i beleive he is praying for god, the “saints”, to “protect” his wife in heaven further showing his like motive? For all of his murders - his love for her however dangerously codependant.

THANK YOU FOR THE VENOM

HE KILLS MORE PEOPLE 🔥🔥 its almost like he has to kill 1000 evil men damn. BUT now hes starting to loose his grip on reality and is killing innocent people. I like to think he goes to the church he married his wife in and starts killing people - hence the line “sister im not much a poet but a criminal” - hes changed completely from the man he once was. They try to convince him to like stop saying its not what his wife would have wanted but he does not listen - in the lyric “preach all you want but whos gonna save me” - and continues to spiral into a life of crime and implied addiction (when in the chorus he says “give me all your posion and give me all your pills”)

HANG EM HIGH

THIS!! This is the one i can never fully figure out despite it being so good 🙏🙏 it feels like a cop out to say he suddenly becomes a cowboy or idk has to kill a cowboy but any other way i can interpret it is just the same old back to mourning his wife and dedicating his life to her so uhm yeah take any of those 3 or your own and run with it (please tell me if you know how to make this fit better than me)

ITS NOT A FASHION STATEMENT ITS A FUCKING DEATHWISH

Hes now so deep into his mission he cant quit despite the regret he feels. This kind of links back to his mocking of their younger selves in give em hell through the lyric “do you remeber back there when we met you told me this gets harder, well it did!”. Hes kind of pondering how his life got this bad wishing it didnt have to be this way. however he believes they will soon be reunited - evidenced through lines such as “im coming back from the dead” and the repeated references to resserection and him finding his wife, “your running out of places, to hide from me”. At the end, he says “i lost my fear of falling, i will be with you”, further showing he thinks he will soon see his wife again and simmilarly to the ghost of you shows hes willing to sacrafice his soul just to see her again

CEMETERY DRIVE

trust me the fake music video in my head for this goes HARD. So he visits the cemetary where his wife is buried to kinda tell her in a way? That hes almost finished and he’ll see her soon. And in my like the cool cinemetic imaganary music video he dances with her ghost but uhm plot wise hes kinda lamenting how much he misses here as the chorus goes “i miss you, so far”. Now theres some confusion as to how she died as here it says “and they found you on the bathroom floor” but in i never told you it says “they gave us two shots to the back of the head” so i imagine he got caught up in some like bad stuff and they killed her in their home - the bathroom - which does add some depth to his grief as he feels responsable for her death hence why he wants to bring her back so bad. His dedication to her is reinforced through the lyric “so i wont stop lying wont stop dying” which as ive said a lottt shows his like questionably large levels of motivation in this mission from satan. The repetition of “way down” at the end foreshadows the twist in the next song - that he's going to hell - and this idea has been building up throughout the narrative but its reaching its peak now and we begin to see it as a serious possibility considering the innocent people he has killed alongside the guilty ones.

I NEVER TOLD YOU WHAT I DO FOR A LIVING

Aaaaand im realising ive made it all the way through this without even having to check the tracklist which shows that i lack a life! But anyways this song communicates the concept so well and i genuienly could line by line delve into it but for the sake of conciceness as i have been i will just cover the basic concept

OK SO! Hes metholodically getting through this list (im inferring he has a list from the line “i keep a book of the names”) kind of rushing through them, seen through the fast pace of the first verse, in my head it resembles a video montage of the murder of multiple people off of the list. This is further evidenced through the lyric “another knife in my hands” showing this has somehow become his everyday life as hes become so detached from normalicy in his grief. NOW NOW NOW the lyric “a stain that never comes off the sheets” is an allusion to lady Macbeth (I FREAKING LOVE SHAKESPEARE) (im a hamlet girl tho honestly) where she couldnt wash the blood off of her hands which is a common literary symbol for guilt showing his mission has taken a massive toll on him mentally if we did not already realise this. “It aint the money and it sure as hell aint just for the fame” implies he does not enjoy killing these people despite the fact hes killed probably over a thousand people which againnnn shows his dedication to his wife. Now i know ive said that about a billion times but thats important to consider when we take into account that he does not get to see her again - everything he did was essentially worthless, in fact if anything everything he did just sealed his fate. Therefore, if we view him as a tragic hero (i can go so much more into this but thats for another day) then his hamartia is his love for her, his loyalty which kinda gave him tunnel vision meaning he could not see the flaws his plan and the way he was being exploited by satan.

now theres so much symbolism in the lyrics i could discuss (I LOVE THIS SONG) but i will refrain and kinda skip forward to the bridge/the end. I like to think he turns the last page in his book of names to just see his own name and then begins to spiral - this is where the song goes “and we all fall down”. Im preitty sure gerard ways like screams say “i tried” which like furthers this breakdown as he comes to understand all the wrong he has done and his inevatatable damnation. After a large moral debate he thinks it would have been better if they were both killed together originally “never again / they gave us two shots to the back of the head” and he shoots himself in the hope he will eventually be with her in the afterlife, and if not then a life without her is not a life worth living anyways. It ends with the lyric “were all dead now” (which they are) which reminds me of the rhyme/ game from when i was a kid ring a rosies (which i swear is about the plauge) and how that ends by saying “we all fall down” kinda showing the corruption he brought into the world and that everything must come to an end. This is typical of a tragic hero - his anagorisis (realisation of his flaw / mistake) and then his death - which is why i personally do veiw this album as mostly conforming to troupes of traditional greek tragedy :).

aaaaand thats it!! I dont count bury me in black or desert song as part of the album plot uhhh if anyone else does id love to hear how that sounds so cool but yeah!!! Oh and sorry again for any typos and spelling errors i cannot spell for the life of me uhmm this could be so incoherent for all i know (if so sorry!!) but i hope not 😛

lmk if you’d actualy wanna hear the full yap poetry annotation style for a song cause i love nothing more if not talking i might do the same for danger days if i feel like it so watch out 🔥🔥

[tc9972]

Nils Höglander random textpost

1, A happy place for avid hunter Nils Höglander is quietly stalking a moose in the northern wildness of Sweden.

2, This ten-minute long video is mostly delightful. Höglander is pretty quiet and reserved with the media, largely because he’s dealing with not only a new team, but a new country and a language with which he’s still not fully comfortable. The video gives some insight into his personality and how his teammates view him.

But then, about two minutes into the video, there’s a moment that defies comprehension.

Höglander takes a water bottle and sprays both his socks and the inside of his skate before putting it on.

3, “I guess I have to say hockey is the hardest,” said Hoglander. “But if you’ve never been out in the forest or anything, it’s kind of hard to know what to do. If you bring Petey (Elias Pettersson) he would have no idea what to do, he’s a city boy.”

4, Q. Do you have a hidden talent? Music or cooking?

A. I’m not into music at all in doing it by myself (instrument). I would always say something outdoors. I’m a big unicycle guy. I have one. That’s my hidden talent.

5, Nils Höglander pulled in a decent crop of votes for the team’s biggest Swiftie, as he was nominated by Erik Brännström, Aatu Räty, and Elias Pettersson. He later claimed that “Love Story” was his favourite song by her. Höglander’s history with being a fan of Swift dates back to a TikTok posted last year, in which he said he’d rather meet her than her boyfriend, Kansas City Chiefs tight end Travis Kelce.

6, Nils Höglander Spotify Wrapped- “Viva La Vida” by Soppgirobygget

I don’t know what I expected but it certainly wasn’t this.

I guess I expected this to be a cover of “Viva La Vida” by Coldplay. Instead, it’s a dance track that interpolates “Misirlou” by Dick Dale, then throws in a bridge that’s basically just the chorus of “Whoomp! (There It Is)” by Tag Team.

This is a straight-up party song and it’s a lot of fun, even if the lyrics are hilariously crass. While mostly in Norwegian, there are a few English phrases thrown in, like “Bitch, make it clap.”

Here are a couple choice phrases from the song translated into English via Google Translate: “Big babes, big drinks, big asses make me happy,” “Shake the bum and I’ll post it on Snap,” and “I have a skull fracture and proven gonorrhea.”

7, Then there are the unicycles. Höglander has a knack for juggling while unicycling, as well as stickhandling while on a unicycle. It’s a talent shared by Pettersson, whose dad could ride a unicycle, so he taught himself to do it as well. 

“The unicycle thing is just for fun,” said Höglander. “I haven’t seen Petey yet, but I will have a match with him.”

“We haven’t had a battle yet,” said Pettersson, “or done it face-to-face but from the videos I’ve seen, he’s better. Sucks to say, but...”

8, There is no doubt about who is responsible for the cooking at the Pettersson/Höglander home.

– I take on the cooking, otherwise it won't be as good on the table, says Pettersson.

– He is careful about that so he has to be responsible for it, says Höglander.

What do you stand for then? – Put away the dishes. Luckily we have a dishwasher so it's easy, says Höglander. (Elias has also said that Hoggy used to cook rice like pasta, not measuring water or anything, b4 he stepped in to teach him better but I can't find the video)

9, "My friend found Höglander on Tinder... guess this means he’s in Vancouver already?"

10, It’s Hoagie, not Hoggy

Note the umlaut. It means the first syllable of the rookie’s name rhymes with brogue or doge, not log or dog.

11, And finally, here’s a fact that is bound to make many of you feel very old: Höglander’s birthday is December 20, 2000, making him the first Vancouver Canuck born after the millennium. Remember the Titans came out before he did; Gladiator and Almost Famous, too.

12, n the northern wilderness of his tiny village of Brocktrask, Sweden — population 20 hearty outdoor enthusiasts — you first have to stalk the very large and imposing moose. And that could take a lot of time.

13, The name “Nyssa” has many meaning, including “goal” (Greek) or “friendly elf” (Scandinavian). It is also Nils’ nickname with his SHL teammates. While Hoglander’s size may make him elf-like, he’s more feisty than friendly, taking a five-game suspension earlier this season for throwing a reverse elbow. Since the suspension ,he has been very productive as a 19 year old in the SHL, scoring four goals and three assists in 12 games.

14, So I was just texting with Nils Höglander and he has agreed to not score any goals against Canada at the World Juniors if we can find him some good fishing spots around Vancouver. — Chris Faber

15,

Achievements

Two-time SHL Goal of the Year (2019, 2020)

Won a bronze medal with Team Sweden at the 2020 World Junior Championship

16, Funny story. A couple of my friends who are into fishing decided to randomly invite Hoglander out fishing on the Vedder river during his rookie year through a DM on instagram. He ended up replying and saying he’d love to go. They ended up meeting up and spending a day out on the water and had a successful trip. They go out fishing still to this day"

17, "It all started back in Skellefteå, in northern Sweden, where he moved at age 11. The forward from Burträsk, who turns 18 on Thursday, spent much of his spare time with wheels under his feet.

”We spent almost every night during the summer playing street hockey. We played at the rink when the ice was melted for the summer, and placed hockey nets on the concrete. We had goalies and arranged tournaments. Sometimes we stayed until way past midnight”, Nils Höglander recalls.

The janitor of the small arena often didn’t know that Nils and his friends were there, they weren’t really allowed to hang out in the building as late as they did. When they couldn’t play at the rink they used a tennis court instead.

“It really was the highlight of the summer.”

18, Pettersson's gaming hobby didn't keep him from having a career year and he's certainly not the only Canuck to spend time playing Call of Duty. His fellow Swede, Nils Höglander, evidently also spends a fair amount of time playing Call of Duty. He proved as much in a collaboration with the Seattle Surge, a professional Call of Duty League (CDL) team that is co-owned by Canucks Sports and Entertainment.

Höglander faced off against Amer “Pred” Zulbeari, who is one of the best Call of Duty players in the world. When the Surge won the CDL 2022 Major III Grand Final, Pred was named the tournament’s Most Valuable Player, then was named Rookie of the Year for the 2022 CDL season.  

With that in mind, it’s at least a little bit surprising that Höglander — decidedly not a professional e-gamer — managed to hold his own in a 1v1 match against Pred.

Höglander, playing under the handle “HitTheDeke,” seemed to legitimately catch Pred off-guard with how well he played, as the power forward matched him kill for kill at first. At the 2:40 mark, Pred looks legitimately taken aback, looking towards the camera crew as if making sure he’s not being pranked by being secretly matched up against another pro.

19,

VANCOUVER – Not only has he a dream job, Nils Hoglander has a dream commute to go with it.

Each morning the Vancouver Canucks are home, the Swedish rookie leaves his 22nd-floor apartment that overlooks the city, gets in an elevator and rides down to the bottom of the Rogers Arena. That’s his commute. No car, no transit, no rain.

This is rink-rat heaven.

“Taking an elevator to get to the rink would be like a dream for Nils,” Chris Abbott, the Canadian general manager of Hoglander’s former team, Rogle BK, told Sportsnet. “You’ll have to turn the lights out to get him to leave. You’ll never find a guy who wants to be on the ice more. I’d be out for a run and I’d see him skating on rollerblades with a bunch of kids in the middle of nowhere. He loves being around the rink and loves his teammates, and I think that goes a long way for him to focus on what he needs to do to stay in the NHL.”

20, Hoglander said he is accustomed to living on his own. He misses the camaraderie of teammates away from the rink, but spends his afternoons FaceTiming his family and friends in Sweden. His mom, Maria, is a teacher and his dad, Anders, a professional test driver for auto-makers.

“Cool job,” Hoglander said.

He also spends a lot of time with friends and teammates playing video games online. Call of Duty is his favourite, and Pettersson and Canuck Adam Gaudette are regular gamers, he said.

21,

When did Nils' interest in hockey arise? (asking Nils' parents) – He was probably no more than two and a half years old when he started skating. He could skate straight away, which is almost crazy. So did Tilda. – Before that, both of them had skied quite a bit, both downhill and cross-country. Both of them competed a lot on skis and we often had to throw them in the car straight from the podium to go to a hockey match.

22,

Nils Höglander seems to be a very strong person and his parents believe that this may be due to the tough times he experienced growing up. – Yes, but if we look back at how he was during his youth, he was, as we say, a “squirt”. He was everywhere and nowhere. Much like he sometimes is on the hockey field, laughs Höglander’s parents and continues: – I think everything he has been through, both with Tilda and the Skellefteå time, has been built on this Norrland-like stability. None of us parents can otherwise put our finger on why he has become so strong within himself, because we also feel that he is.

23,

And always with a smile on his face… – It takes a lot for him not to smile. When he smiles, he has fun. You have to be humble about life and the world. All people are different, but you should try to treat everyone well and not get carried away too much.

24,

When Brännström came to the Canucks, one of the faces he recognized was Nils Höglander.

The two Swedes have known each other for over 10 years and their first memory goes back to a hockey camp in Sweden where Brännström’s dad was the coach.

At that camp, Höglander was playing forward but the surprise came when Brännström told us that he was a goaltender at the time. Brännström said he was either 11 or 12 at the time and he was playing goaltender when he was playing up an age group.

25, Who's more likely to be a cool parent? Elias Pettersson: "I like to think I would be a cool parent, but I'll say Nils Hoglander. He's from up north in Sweden. He's just a very funny guy."

26, Who's more likely to be a cool parent? Elias Pettersson: "I like to think I would be a cool parent, but I'll say Nils Hoglander. He's from up north in Sweden. He's just a very funny guy"

Who's more likely to get lost in a road city? Quinn Hughes:"Probably Hoglander"

27, Who on your team is most likely to get lost on the road? (asking Quinn Hughes) Quinn: "I feel like Hog-man. (You're such a good person!) No, I'm gonna explain myself. He is literally from a town in Sweden with like 15 people. Like, grocery story 2 hours away"

28, Höglander was voted the worst golfer last year…

[matan4il]

Can't stop thinking about that poor French girl. Most of my friends didn't even have their periods at 12. We have been screaming ourselves HOARSE for months that "globalize the intifada" is going to come back to bite us...and now it's beginning to. They didn't listen to us then and they won't now. Instead, they let a child pay the price for the crime of being Jewish.

I remember back in early April I walked by a protest and I told a cop there what the phrase meant. She didn't even deign to look at me, instead she told me where I could counter-protest. That is not what I was asking about. No one is protecting us, yet they wonder why we feel safer and have an attachment to our home.

I haven't been able to visit home since the war started, I'll be there Sunday finally. And I can guarantee that I will be moving comfortable there, despite my half baked plan and no official place to stay.

I just don't know what we are supposed to be doing anymore. עד מתי??????

I can't stop thinking about that girl either.

I can't stop thinking about what it means that she knew she wasn't safe telling her boyfriend at the time that she's Jewish. I can't stop thinking about the fact that she was right, as he proved. I can't stop thinking about the kind of environment she grew up in, where she had grown so accustomed to antisemitic attitudes being the rule, that she didn't see that guy's antisemitism for the red flag that it is, and didn't stay away from him.

And I wanna make it clear, it is ABHORRENT that Jews should have to stop and consider just how much they're going to lose out on socially because of antisemitism. But it IS hard to constantly lose and miss out and be depraved of social rewards that others get just because you're Jewish, especially when you're 12 years old. So this responsibility lies on the hellish environments that push Jews to have to decide between being included and being safe.

That the specific way that this girl's abusers were violent with her for her Jewishness was sexual, committed by at least one person she intimately trusted, done as a group, and (from what I've gathered) in public, just makes the whole thing even worse, and I cannot stop grieving what was taken away from her, and what she will have to deal with for the rest of her life.

And I've heard from multiple sources that the perpetrators' phones had anti-Israel material on them. It was easy to guess, but it's still chilling to have that confirmed.

I am SO sorry that you had that experience of a cop not giving a damn about our safety as Jews. But yes, we absolutely cannot rely on anyone else for our protection, it's a part of why we need Israel. And there's only one place in the world where we can be safely and effortlessly ourselves as Jews. I'm so glad for you that you're coming home, and I also hope that if fellow Israelis see this, that maybe they can reach out and help, too.

אם יש כאן במקרה ישראלים, השמיעו קול!

As for what we can do, we can continue to live even when they don't want us to, we can go on supporting each other, we can thrive even when they think they've taken that option from us, we absolutely should educate ourselves continuously when our haters are relying on people's ignorance, and we must speak up where and how we can. Even if our reach is small, it's better than being silent. Not to mention, sometimes one person listening to you, if they're the right one, can make a much bigger difference than we could imagine.

I'm sending you lots of hugs and love! xoxox

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[julianalvarez9]

one nail drives out another / joão félix

summary: it had all started as a mutual favour: you weren't over your ex, and neither was he. but the old saying one nail drives out another proves to be true. author's note: had this in the drafts for too long and just needed to get it out, even if i just couldn't finish it in a way that i liked :( hope it's still good tho.

warnings: smut with a plot. wc: 2.2k words

the deal was simple: he calls you when he feels alone, and you do too.

in reality, it's simpler to say that you call him to avoid calling your ex. this is what you said to yourself every time: it was for a good cause, really. anything to help you avoid the man who broke your heart several times. 

joão was one hundred percent better than that man could ever be, and you knew it was safer: at least, he wouldn’t break your heart. above every single adjective he could be described with, he was kind. and after knowing him for such a long time, you also were aware of how hard it was for him to let his past relationship go, no matter if he knew it wasn’t good for him, no matter how much she actually hurt him. he was in the same situation as you: heartbroken and on the verge of falling, again.

the kiss was heated, tongues meeting and battling each other for dominance, while letting you taste him. you still could feel the vodka on his lips, intoxicating, although you doubted if what was making your brain go into overdrive was the alcohol, or joao’s ragged breath. “i need to stop thinking about her for a second,” he pleaded, warm brown eyes normally turning a shade darker. he continued the trail of kisses, messy and wet over your neck. “please, help me”.

tonight, it was your turn to call joão.

you were about to call your ex, again, for the second time after six months, until you thought otherwise. it wasn't rocket science to understand that you were feeling alone. the flat in which you lived in now was the same one you once shared with your ex boyfriend, and sometimes, no matter how many hours you try to spend out of the four walls, you can't forget what happened. how it all went wrong, so suddenly. the doubts start to creep in when the sun sets, and you start doubting whether it maybe was your fault, after all. surely, nothing you could have ever done could excuse his cheating, but why weren't you enough?

[12:11] you said: are you awake?

[12:11] joão said: yeah

[12:11] joão said: i was just about to text you

[12:12] you said: mind if i come to your house?

[12:12] joão said: it would be my pleasure

it's been a few weeks since you've seen him, with the international break getting him away from you and his schedule just being crazy in general. and even though you were thankful for it, as a way of getting your feelings on check, you also found yourself missing him. which made everything worse. after almost four months, he knew you like the back of his hand. knew how to rile you, how to touch you, what you liked. you craved him in a way no other guy would fulfill. 

you had tried it.

you barely make it through the door before joao's planting his lips on yours fiercely. it's been too long, he thinks, while sinking his fingers hard onto your hips and backing you onto the main door, hard.

"you don't know how much i missed this," he says, and the warmth starts to seep into your bones, not only where you would expect it to when a pretty boy like him has his hands on you. the effect he has on you it's incredible, and you can only moan in response, legs almost giving up when he sinks a bit to grab the back of your thighs, signaling you to jump. you've got your legs clamped around his waist while he gets both of you into his bedroom.

he lays you onto the bed carefully, with him on top of you while the heavy makeout session continues. his hands roam your entire figure like he has forgotten the trace and wants to remember it. as if he could ever forget, he thinks to himself, before focusing right back into your taste. "do something, joão," you beg, your hands going to the top of his head and slightly tugging on his hair when he starts to trail down his kisses, wet lips tasting all the exposed skin he has available, before growing impatient and pulling the end of your shirt softly. although he's desperate to taste you, he remains calm, helping you take the clothes off before he proceeds to do the same.

he cups your heat through your underwear, and your hips bucked instinctively against his hand. he smirks, the little devil, when he feels how wet you are for him, even though your core remains clothed. you know it's been too long, and you're chasing this fix like he was the most addictive drug. "you're so wet, princesa, so needy. is this all for me?".

he wants to edge you, he wants to make you beg for him, but who's he kidding? joao's almost as desperate as you, not even being able to take off your undergarments fully, and instead, moving it to the side. he slides two fingers inside of you at once, your slick coating his fingers instantly as he feels you clenching around his digits. soon enough you're almost there and he notices, instead taking your fingers off your entrance and savoring your taste in his mouth, humming contently. he wants to feel you tightening around his length instead of his hand, and he hurries to extend the condom over his hard on.

your lips part when you feel his tip at your entrance, right where you need him most, and your fingers grab onto whatever skin he has close to you to remain grounded. his biceps are the ones suffering the attack of your nails on them, pleading him silently to, finally, make his way into you. he's slow at first, with you so tight after a few weeks apart from each other, and his eyes flutter shut, trying to maintain his composure until he bottoms out. you can't even think straight at this point, small whimpers leaving your mouth pleading him to move. joao finds the rhythm that has you moaning his name nonstop soon enough, like he always does, and you grab him by the nape of his neck to get him to kiss you and swallow your desperate noises.

“i won’t last long,” you warn, voice barely audible while your back arches away from the bed, creating a gap from the mattress. “go ahead,” joao encourages, keeping the pace that is driving you mad, and soon enough, you come undone under him. he helps you ride out your high, and thanks to how you’re clenching around him, he lets go too, not long after you. 

the air is tense once the moment has seemingly broken, both your staggered breaths, the only sounds heard through the four walls. joao knows he has to say something about the elephant in the room, but still, he doesn’t know how. you’re the first one to move, not sparing him a glance as you start to collect your things to leave, wanting to avoid the question repeating in your head. what the fuck are we?

"why do you never stay over?" he asks instead, resting his back over the bed frame. his hands pillowed under his head in a relaxed gesture, but he’s anything but calm while the question floats in the air. 

"what?" you call, not having heard his ask: you were too busy trying to find your underwear to pay attention to what the portuguese was saying. still, he continued. "it's like you run away from me every time,” he says, frowning at the thought. 

once he realizes that he won't be having an answer until you find what you're looking for, he focuses on your surroundings, scanning the poorly lit room until he finds your undergarments. they're dropped by his side of the bed, serving as a reminder of what had occurred between you two not too long ago. 

joão hooks the piece of lace cloth on his fingers, catching your attention, before you go and take them from him, slipping them on almost effortlessly. “is there a problem with me?".

now, with you not completely naked, you can answer him, although still refusing to dive into his warm brown eyes. "absolutely not”.

“and here you are, running away,” he laughs bitterly while getting up from the bed to grab his shirt. god bless, you think. the mere sight of him, laying on his bed, in just his black calvins was almost enough to get you back on the bed. but you can’t, you remind yourself. 

“i thought it was what you wanted, no?” you counteract. it’s like joao doesn't remember the talk you had before it all began. “part of the no feelings attached thing you talked about," you remind him, and he huffs annoyed, before going back to being seated on the edge of the bed, back towards you. 

you can see the marks your fingernails made on his tanned skin, still red from your doings. you’re tempted to bring it to his attention, maybe to avoid his teammates catching them tomorrow morning when he has to go back to training, but the words die on your throat.

he mutters lowly, gripping his hair like he’s about to pull some strands off. "you don't think we fucked it up already?”.

"what are you talking about?".

of course you know what he’s talking about. the deal made it clear that it was just sex: but you were friends first and foremost, and you couldn’t avoid your friend group, which you shared with him. you couldn’t avoid the questions they asked. who has you smiling so big lately, y/n? are you seeing anyone? no, of course not. i can present to you a friend, then. 

the mere thought of you with someone else made joao see red, and that's how he noticed something had changed, and that he had to do something about it before what he feared became a reality. he initially had said he had enough of relationships, and just didn't want the complications it brought. and after what he went through, it was safe to say his trust issues were at their worst. just like yours. that's why it was such a good deal at first: to get the benefits of a relationship without the problems of actually keeping one. 

“i missed you while i was away,” he begins, and your stomach turns when you hear what he has to say next. “you don’t see a problem?”. you want to say that you missed him too, but the question leaves you feeling uneasy. of course it’s a problem for him, you think. he has grown attached, like you have, but doesn’t want any of it.

“good thing that i’m leaving then, no?”.

joao's quick to stand on his feet and go over to where you are, almost turning the knob and exiting his bedroom. “stay. please," he begs, hand softly grazing your wrist to avoid you getting away from him. at this point, you're confused and hurt enough to start regretting even getting here in the first place. “you’re not making sense right now, you know, right? saying that this is a problem and then asking me to stay the night”.

 through your years being friends, you realized that joao wasn’t the best one at explaining his emotions with words. maybe, because the words weren’t truly his -having to find the words, in a language that wasn’t your own, sure made things more difficult than they needed to be-. "you and i not being together is the problem", he gets to say, almost like a last resource to get you looking at him again. "what about what you said before? that you're not ready for another relationship?".

it work in his favour, because the sentence previously muttered by joao as you turn to face him again. you’re looking into his eyes now, trying to find even an ounce of doubt that would make you leave again. you didn’t want to force him into being with you: you knew the risks when you accepted this fucking deal. you didn’t want him to feel trapped into a relationship he had never intended to start.

"i guess i'm ready when it's you,” joao smiles, softly caressing the skin of your cheek with his thumb. you feel yourself melt under him, his sweet touch and his thoughtful words. “i know you're not her. and i'm not him. but i get it if you-".

the kiss is needy, again, like it had been when you first arrived, but this time you are the one to initiate it. your hand found its way into his hair, and you pulled him impossible closer, hoping that this would clear up all his doubts without you having to say anything. of course you knew he wasn’t him. you had never dared to make the comparison, not even for a second. once the kiss is over, you rest your forehead against his, before softly whispering onto his lips. “we can take it slow. i just need you, nothing else”.

“whatever you need, princesa”.

[qedart]

Time Warp AU - #14 Well this update just didn't want to come together. But finally it's done (all 8K+ of it 😬) and I'm actually rather happy with how it turned out. So I hope you all enjoy this offering of Pete emotional H/C with a side of parental Icemav.

Honestly, Pete had never really got the big deal about birthdays. Sure, when he was little they seemed important. They’re supposed to, when you’re young. But he wasn’t a child anymore. 

He’d learned a long time ago that simply managing to make it through the year wasn’t exactly cause for celebration. A few rounds of people forgetting, ignoring, or scoffing at him for waiting for some kind of acknowledgment of the date had made it all very clear to him - nobody gives a damn about stuff like that, and you look pathetic if anybody catches on that you might. 

So he didn’t. Doesn’t. 

For the longest time now, the only real significance that that day held for him was as a marker of his being one year closer to independence. Living with Mav and Ice, even that didn’t provide the same spiteful satisfaction that it once had. 

These days, he didn’t count down the months until he was free of the people he found himself in the midst of. Quite the opposite really. Ice, Maverick, Tom, the Daggers, the uncles… they were good people. Good, kind, safe people - and they actually seemed to like Pete being around. 

Nothing lasts forever though, of course. He knew that. He was well aware that he was one big screw up away from blemishing whatever image they all had of him, one proper misstep from sending the whole house of cards he’d built around himself from falling to the ground in one way or another. And he was well overdue for one of those mistakes. Unfortunately, it was an inevitability. The sky is blue. Water is wet. Pete Mitchell messes up nice things. 

He tried not to let it bother him too much. 

It was better to just live in the moment, and at this particular moment he had far bigger concerns than inevitabilities or the fact that he was turning 17 in a week. The chief among them - Maverick was turning 60. 

Unlike Pete’s birthday, that was something significant. That was important. That was worthy of celebration. 

Up until this whole time-warp fiasco went down, Pete would have put money on him (any version of him) not making it past 30. 60 was double that! It demanded celebration, even if Mav himself had developed a habit of referring to the subject of his age merely as ‘the situation’.

So when Ice suggested a little lunchtime get-together by the Hard Deck the coming Saturday ‘for the birthday we’ve got coming up’, he agreed that it was a fantastic idea. 

“Penny’s got a barbecue there that we could use I’m pretty sure,” Tom chipped in over his cereal. 

“Nice. I’ll be there if there’s food,” Pete grinned as he made a bowl for himself. 

Tom rolled his eyes. 

“You were going to be there anyway, numb-skull.”

“Boys, please,” Ice sighed, before Pete could return fire. “I’ve not had my coffee yet, let’s just hold off on the bickering for a little while longer.”

Pete sniffed when Tom promptly shot him an exceedingly smug smirk. 

“I’d get drinking if I were you.”

“Pete.”

“Fine,” Pete huffed, before turning back to Ice. “The beach sounds great though. Want us to bring anything?”

“Just yourselves,” Ice replied, shaking his head. “Mav and I will sort out the logistics.”

And that was that. Party at the beach to celebrate Mav’s 60th, be there at 12. Sorted. 

The rest of the week went by like normal, for the most part. He was asked if he was excited about the party a bit more often than he expected he would be, but he figured it was just people making conversation. He and Tom spent most of Thursday trying to find the old man a fitting birthday present. 

“You’ve seen the hanger! How are we supposed to top that?!”

“I think we should probably start by setting our sights a little lower.”

In the end they decided to both go in on a new camera, figuring it was the most affordable of Mav’s hobbies to tap into. 

When the day itself eventually did roll around, Pete was up and out of bed by dawn. Not due to excitement, and not due to any additional birthday gestures like he’d been contemplating (a fry up was always a good start to the day, after all), no - due to Tom. 

“We’re going for a ride and you’re going to enjoy it,” he announced the second Pete woke (with a start, thanks to the other boy dropping his riding jacket and boots on top of him). “Up and at ‘em.” 

“But what about Mav’s-?”

“We’ll see him at the party, I’ve left a note,” Tom announced, grabbing the end of Pete’s quilt and dragging it out of the room with him. “Mush.”

“I hate you!”

“Hate me on the move. There is breakfast with our name on it somewhere.” 

“Ugh!” 

The ride, annoyingly, was fantastic. The roads were mostly clear, and riding with Tom was always a blast. Tom even bought him breakfast and a couple of pastries for after (“It’s your birthday, idiot. Of course I’m shouting”). It was… well, nice. Pete didn’t care about birthdays, he really didn’t, but even still… it was just nice. Sitting at the look out, munching on the food his best friend had bought for him, he found himself feeling genuinely content with life and how it was turning out. A year ago, he wouldn’t have been able to bring himself to even imagine that. It was a moment he resolved to savour. 

“You feel any different?” Tom asked, smirking as he dusted the icing sugar from his Pączki off his fingers. 

Pete scoffed at the question, rolling his eyes. 

“Oh yeah,” he replied, nodding seriously. “I feel like I’ve levelled up, you know? Way more mature now. I feel like I’ve really grown as a person.”

“And yet not an inch vertically? Life’s not fair, is it-?”

“Fuck you!”

Tom snickered, ducking out of the way of the hand Pete swung at the back of his head, before holding his own up in surrender. 

“Seriously though, happy birthday,” he said, shooting Pete a warm smile that made his stomach do that fluttering thing he’d noticed it doing more and more often lately. 

Smiling himself and ducking his head, Pete shrugged. 

“Thanks,” he said. “It’s not really a big deal.”

“Well as somebody with a vested interest in your being born, I reckon it is,” Tom retorted, rolling his eyes. 

Pete scoffed, a teasing grin tugging at his lips as he folded his arms over his knees. 

“A vested interest, huh?”

“Don’t let it get to your head.”

“Nawww, you do like me,” Pete snickered. 

“You’re letting it get to your head.” 

“Is that why you brought me out here, to confess your undying love?” 

“In. your. dreams,” Tom scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Bringing you out here was my present to both you and Mav.” 

“How is me going to go for a ride and being bought breakfast a present for Maverick? 

“You going for a ride and being bought breakfast means both you and I are here, not at home. Which means Mav and Ice have the whole place to themselves, all morning. And there’s no chance of either of us overhearing anything and being scarred for life.” 

Pete blinked at that, before pulling a face at the thought of Mav’s birthday ride and announcing, utterly serious, “You’re the best friend a guy could ever ask for.”

“I know,” Tom drawled, before shrugging as he tucked the rubbish from his breakfast into his backpack. “And maybe I wanted to get in first with the birthday wishes.” 

“Always a competition with you, isn’t it?” Pete scoffed, ignoring the other boy’s derisive snort as he jumped back to his feet. “Race you back to the Hard Deck!” 

“Absolutely not!” Tom snapped, hurrying to his feet all the same as Pete bounded over to the bikes. “That flies entirely in the face of the contract!” 

“I laugh in the face of the contract!”

“Yes! That’s why it took so long to draft! Pete!” 

They didn’t end up racing back, much to Tom’s relief. As a result, by the time they pulled up, pretty much everybody had arrived at the beach. Bradely, Hangman, and Phoenix were still by the Bronco though, pulling the last of their stuff out the back.

“Ah, the birthday boy has arrived,” Hangman cried as they wandered over.

“Ha ha,” Pete scoffed, rolling his eyes before turning to Rooster. “Hey, can we dump our helmets and stuff in your car?”

“Sure, the back seat should be free,” he replied as he hefted the cooler from the trunk. “But really, happy birthday, Pete.”

“Ah, thanks?” Pete replied, a confused smile tugging at his lips as he stepped out of the way for Tom to stow his stuff away as well. That’s two times today. Weird. 

“What’s with the face?” Phoenix asked, laughing. “17 is a big deal.”

Pete laughed. 

“Yeah right,” he replied, stooping to grab one of the bags from their pile. “16’s supposed to be a big deal, and 18 definitely is. 17’s just there.”

“Agree to disagree. But, that raises a good question,” replied Jake, a mischievous grin spread across his face. “What sort of Sweet 16 fiasco are we competing with today?” 

Pete arched a brow at the question, but figured it made sense. Out of all the milestone birthdays, 16 was the only relevant one he and Mav had an overlap on. Though he wasn’t sure how much “I spent most of it in the ER with a broken arm’ would help with gauging the temperature for how this one was going.

Instead he just shrugged. 

“Nothing really special. I’m sure this’ll be way better.”

“That’s what we’re aiming for,” Jake replied with a grin, ruffling Pete’s hair (and then, far more amusingly, Tom’s), before leading the way over to the sand. 

Pete blinked as they drew closer. A lot of people had turned up. All of the daggers were here, pitching up chairs and umbrellas or tossing a football (actually, two footballs) around while almost all the uncles and even Viper milled about among them. Mav, Ice, Slider, and Penny were getting the barbecue started, chatting with Warlock and Cyclone (which was weird, but probably Ice’s doing). He even spotted Amelia and Theo slip out of the Hard Deck, deep in conversation with Hondo (about something nerdy and interesting no doubt) to join the group. 

“Damn, Mav sure invited a lot of people for someone who pulls faces whenever anybody utters the number 60 around him,” he laughed as he hefted the bag further up his shoulder. “Or are you all gatecrashing just to torment him?”

Jake snorted at that, rolling his eyes. 

“Nah. Though he is being a baby about it, so if we did it would be his own fault,” he replied. 

“He actually ordered us not to mention ‘the situation’ the other day,” Bradley scoffed, shaking his head.

“In fairness, Roo - you and Bagman were having a lot of fun at his expense,” said Phoenix as they all dropped their bags on the sand and set about making camp. She grinned at Pete and Tom. “There have been lots of fossil jokes. These two even smuggled a walker on base and swapped it with his lectern before debrief. He had to walk it to the side of the classroom.”

“Cruel,” Tom snickered from beside him. “Funny, but cruel.”

“You know it,” Jake cackled, dropping his bags down on the sand before stretching his arms over his head. “But nah, he’s opted out of a group celebration. Don’t know why. But I’m afraid that means you’re flying solo today, baby bro.”

Pete blinked again. 

“...I’m what?”

“You’ve got the spotlight pretty much to yourself today,” Bradley replied, shrugging like it was the simplest thing. “Apparently he’s got some day-trip planned with Ice tomorrow, so he’s sorted. That just leaves you with all of the attention. Reckon you can handle that?”

…Shit. 

Shit, shit shit - he had not prepared for this. He’d not expected this. What the hell even was this?! He’s turning 17. Who gives a shit?! Why the hell would all of these people come out here, some of them a hell of a long way, just for him?! They wouldn’t. Had they not been told it was just for him? Did Mav wriggle out of this at the last second and now he had 20+ people who’d pretty much written off half their weekend for no reason on his hands? 

“Pete, you alright?” Tom asked, shaking his shoulder, a worried expression on his face. 

Pete grimaced, before glancing around at the others and finding them all looking at him with concern. 

He pulled on a wide grin and laughed. 

“Me? Yeah, of course!” he replied cheerily, mind racing all the while. He needed a minute to himself. To come up with a plan. To fix this. 

Quickly turning back to the others, slapping his forehead as he did, he said, “You know what? I think I left my phone on my bike. Just gonna go grab that, can’t lose another one. Are you guys good here for a sec?”

“I mean, yeah,” Tom said slowly, frowning. 

“Great!” Pete cheered (perhaps a bit too overzealously, but whatever) before spinning around and, with a quick “Back in a moment!” taking off back up the beach. 

Right, step one, calm the hell down. He had to get a hold of himself and he had to do it now. 

Alright, it was a surprise. Alright, there were probably going to be some irritated people down there. So what? He could deal with irritated people. He could deal with people that actively wanted to kick his ass, irritated is nothing. Why the hell was he freaking out so much? Less than a year of being treated nicely and he’d gone completely soft, seriously?

He shook his head roughly. 

He was fine. This was fine. He’d make it work somehow. He just needed to stop acting like a baby and come up with a plan of action. 

He could direct attention back to Maverick. The old man can try and wriggle out of it all he likes but two can play this game. He’ll stick around for an hour, direct as much attention to Mav as possible, whip Jake and Bradely up into enough of a frenzy to keep the momentum going and then make a classy exit. Nobody will even remember he was here and they’ll forget all about this misunderstanding. That’s good. That’ll work. 

…Unless Mav launches a counter-attack. Which he would. 

Shit!

“Pete?” 

Pete whirled around and found Mav and Ice approaching, both looking concerned and not all that surprised to see him up here. Goddamnit, Tom, the snitch!!

“What’s going on, kiddo?” Mav asked, cocking his head to the side. 

“I mean, that’s a pretty good question man,” Pete replied, running a hand through his hair anxiously as he glanced down at the beach once more before turning his attention (and frustration) back to the older man. “I get that you’ve got some sort of three quarter life crisis going on about turning 60, but seriously, throwing me under the bus so you can avoid that is a dick move.” 

Mav, the bastard, looked more confused than chastened at the rebuke, exchanging a bemused glance with Ice. 

“You’re going to have to spell this one out for us, buddy.”

Pete groaned, folding his hands on top of his head. 

“First, explain it to me, guys,” he replied. “What was the plan? Trick everyone here by saying it’s a party for Mav and then hope people aren’t too put out when it turns out it was for the other Mitchell? Jeez guys, I mean, what the hell? Why the hell?! Nobody gives a damn it’s my birthday. I don’t give a damn it’s my birthday. Now it looks like I do, and now I get to look like the stupid little moron who needed people tricked here to pad things out!”

“Pete,” Ice said slowly, holding his hands out like he was trying to calm down some wounded animal. Like Pete was being irrational about this. “You do know this party is for you, right?”

“Yes,” Pete replied with every ounce of patience he possessed. “I’m aware of that. That’s exactly my point”

“No. He means it was always intended to be just for you,” Mav weighed in. 

Pete sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried his very best to channel Ice and remain as diplomatic as he possibly could (it did not help, mind you, that Ice was joining in on this nonsense. But he tried nevertheless). 

“Look,” he said with forced calm, “I see what you’re trying to do, and it’s a nice thought. I appreciate that you guys care and want to make a fuss, I do. But you can’t just expect to trick people into writing off half their weekend for one thing, and then bait and switch with a discount offer at the last second. Wood and Wolf flew in from Texas for this, guys. Please. I’ll see if I can get the Daggers to lay off the fossil jokes, but- …what’s this?”

“Read it,” Ice replied, holding his phone out to Pete until he took it and did as he was told. 

Jake has named the group chat: Big Effing Deal Jake: First of all, how. dare. you? Nat: Seconded! Both for leaving us out and forcing me to agree with Bagman. Jake: Look what you’ve brought us too!!!  Nat: I feel physically sick.  Jake: Ditto. Bradley: Wow, you guys really are in sync today.  Nat: You take that back!!! Ice: Could somebody please explain what we’re being accused of here.  Jake: Betrayal!!!  Coyote: Dude - you’ve been hitting the expresso machine again, haven’t you? Mav: Guys. BOB: Rooster mentioned you are having a get together for Pete’s birthday on Saturday and we’re all handling the rejection differently. Fanboy: How could you, Mav? Mav: Well first, there’s no rejection for anybody to handle. We floated the idea of a beach party this morning and he seemed alright with it. So if you guys are free and want to come along, you’re more than welcome to.  Jake: Was that so hard?!!!! Mav: If you’d waited a few more hours I’d have invited you in person at work tomorrow. Jake: But Roo gets his invite right away??? :(  Ice: Rooster was over during the day, so yes, he heard first. Rooster: Remember how you were supposed to help me fix their gate today?  Jake: Nope. Poorly communicated on your part.  Jake: Moving swiftly on - we need times. And gift ideas. Nat: What a crappy brother. I got my present for him weeks ago.  Payback: Burn.  Payback: Also, same. Jake: You’re a pair of goody-goodies, I’m not surprised in the slightest.  Jake: Besides it doesn’t matter how early you got it. It’s how good it is. Nat: Got you beat there too Bagman.  Jake: Bullshit. Pete and I have a connection.  Payback: Is that what we’re calling you being a terrible influence now? Coyote: Just before these three properly kick off - is this a joint birthday bash? Or Pete-specific? Mav: Pete specific.  Mav: I’ve already got plans for mine.  Ice: And by that he means I have already made plans for him.  Ice: They’re on Sunday though, so we’ll be there regardless.  Mav: And people think I’m the competitive one. My point is, I’m covered, so don’t go worrying about that. Coyote: Roger that!  Fanboy: This is going to be great!! I can bake a cake if you like!!! Lil bro likes chocolate, right? Payback: Guys - take him up on the offer!  Phoenix: This! ^^^^^ Ice: That would be lovely, Fanboy, thank you. And yes, chocolate would be well received I expect.  Fanboy: Yeeeeeesssss!!  Mav: Right, we’re just going to leave you guys to this.  Rooster: Oh, actually, just before you go… Bradley’s added Sly-Guy, Chip_P, E!News, Full_M00ning…  Mav: Oh you little shit stirrer.  Sli-Guy: First of all, how dare you?! 

Pete blinked, utterly mystified, as he scrolled through the group chat (which seemed to go on for quite a bit) before eventually turning back to Ice and Mav. 

“I… I don’t understand,” he uttered. 

“Join the club, kiddo,” Mav replied, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“You helped plan this,” Ice pointed out, a baffled expression on his ordinarily nonplussed face. “I specifically asked you if you would like a party at the Hard Deck?” 

“I thought you were asking for my input for Mav’s party,” Pete muttered, his cheeks blazing with embarrassment as he realised just how stupid he apparently was. 

“The daggers have been talking to you about it all week?” Mav pointed out, equally confused. “Bob asked you what snacks you’d like him to bring.” 

“I thought they were coming to me because they couldn’t get anything out of you!” Pete snapped back hotly. 

Ice held up a hand, cutting that line of conversation off before it could get too heated. Taking a deep, exceedingly put upon breath, he sighed “Once again, it appears that this family’s outstanding communication skills have come back to bite us all in the ass.”

He turned back to Pete.  

“If it’s any consolation, it wasn’t meant to be a surprise party,” he said.

Pete scoffed softly, in spite of himself, but soon enough the begrudging amusement gave way to confusion once more. 

“I still don’t understand,” he said. “Why would all of them come out if they knew it was just for me?” 

“How’s it any different from them coming out for me?” Maverick asked with a frown.

Pete shrugged. 

“They’re your family,” he replied simply. “They’re supposed to show up for you.” 

“They’re your family too,” Maverick argued, his frown deepening. 

“You do know that, don’t you?” Ice said slowly, eyes narrowed suspiciously. 

“Yeah. Course,” Pete muttered, cutting a quick glance to the group in question. Nobody seemed to have noticed they were gone yet, thank goodness. Somehow Pete felt like he’d find himself even more outnumbered if they did. He had to bury this quick though, if he wanted to avoid that fate. 

Unfortunately, when he turned back to the oldtimers, Ice had his signature ‘so you’re just going to lie to my face now?’ expression in place. Never a good sign. Also almost never directed at Pete he realised with a dull pain. 

“You know, you pull that face every time this topic of conversation comes up.”

“What face?” 

“The ‘well if it makes them happy’ face,” Ice replied, folding his arms over his chest. “Be honest with us, Pete. What’s going on here?”

Pete shrunk back a little at that, feeling very much under a spotlight all of a sudden and not entirely sure why. 

“N-nothing. Nothing’s going on.”

“Well clearly something is. And just to be clear, do you honestly believe that we’d have all been fine throwing a party for Maverick and doing absolutely nothing for you?” the older man asked, arching a brow pointedly. 

“I… I mean… I… I’d get it,” Pete stuttered, heart pounding in his chest. What the hell was going on? What did he even do? He took a step back, giving into the instinct to at least be out of arm's length, only to knock into the back of Ice’s Jeep when he tried. Crap. He was trapped. And he was in trouble. And he didn’t know why. 

His alarm must have shown on his face too, because soon enough Ice was taking a step back himself, hands held up disarmingly. 

“Pete, I’m not angry with you,” he said, calmly and far gentler than before. “I’m sorry.”

Pete swallowed thickly, but nodded all the same as he tried to rein himself in, to calm down for goodness sake. He was being so damn stupid!!

“I just don’t understand,” Ice continued. “You know everybody here loves you, don’t you? We haven’t dropped the ball that much I hope.” 

Embarrassment and shame twisted sickeningly in the pit of Pete’s belly. Because he did know that. He knew how hard everybody had tried to make him and Tom feel welcome. And not just as novelty extensions of Mav and Ice either, but as their own, separate people. They’d all tried so hard to bring them into the family and make them feel like they belonged in it, Pete knew it. He saw it each day. For the most time, he felt it too, but there was just this part of him that wouldn’t allow him to accept it fully. Wouldn’t allow him to trust it. To trust them. 

“I’m sorry,” he uttered weakly, staring down at the tips of his boots. “I… I know it doesn’t make sense. It’s not anything you guys have done, or haven’t done. I know how much you’ve all tried to be welcoming. And you have, truly. I love it here… so much. But… but every time I try to… it’s just in the back of my mind I’m always… I…” 

He flinched sharply when something touched his arm, but it was just Ice reaching out to him. All of a sudden, that contact, that offer of reassurance was all he wanted. Sighing heavily he stepped forward and leaned against the old man’s chest, dragging in a deep, calming breath as Ice’s arms wrapped around him, squeezed him in a tight. 

“I love it here,” he uttered. “And everybody here… and I know they- you all care - about me and Tom. But I just know…” 

He sighed deeply. 

“It’s just… self-preservation, I guess. I know it’s going to really hurt, so much, when I mess up.  I didn’t care, when it was just some other home I was stuck in longer than usual, but now… now it’s probably too late already. When I mess up and have to go-”

“Hey, who said anything about you going anywhere,” Ice said with a frown, holding him closer. “We told you, you have a place in this family for life. Nothing will change that.”

Pete sighed sadly, shaking his head where it was pressed to Ice’s sternum. They didn’t get it. They felt that way now, but it wouldn’t last. 

“No matter how hard you try, you’re going to end up alone.” 

Both Pete and Ice froze at that, before turning to face Maverick, who looked all the world like he’d just commented on the weather rather than putting one of Pete’s deepest, most painful fears to words. And he wasn’t done. 

“We’re going realise just how messed up you really are. How much damage has been done. How much of it can’t be undone. And, most importantly, how much of it you probably deserved. And sooner or later we’ll change our mind about you. It’s all well and good to say we’ll always want you in the family if we haven’t seen the full picture yet, because let’s face it, you’re on the good behaviour streak of a lifetime right now. But sooner or later, you’re going to mess up, because that’s what you do. And then we’ll see the real you. The screw up. The waste of space. The guy everybody else can see clearly. Eventually the rose-coloured glasses will come off and  we’ll really see you for what you are. We’ll get tired of trying to bring somebody into a family who doesn’t deserve to be in it and clearly is meant to be on their own. It’ll be better for everyone to just stop trying. We probably won’t kick you out, to be fair - but when you head off to college or the academy… the calls and emails will peter out. Tom will probably find his own people too, when he’s got other options. He’ll stop spending time with you too. It’ll probably be pretty amicable really. But everybody will just go on with their life and there will be no room for you in them. That will be that. Better to just accept it now, try not to get too attached to how things are, so when it happens, at least you won’t look like you were blindsided by it all. It’s a bit less pathetic if you at least saw it coming.” 

Pete’s stomach sunk so fast through the blacktop it felt like he was pulling negative G’s. Mav knew. Mav saw how this was going to play out just as clearly as he did. The first card in his little house was beginning to wobble. 

To his horror he felt his face beginning to heat up and his eyes beginning to sting. He dragged in a deep, shuddering breath, squeezing them shut tight. He wasn’t a baby. This wasn’t a surprise. He wasn’t going to start crying in the middle of the car park where everybody could see him like some child. 

He jumped as an arm wrapped around his shoulders and looked up to find Ice, holding him close again, and leading them to the space between his jeep and Bradley’s Bronco - more or less out of sight from the rest of the group.

“Sit down and take a few deep breaths for me, kiddo,” he murmured, manoeuvring Pete until he was sitting down on the gravel, back pressed against the rubber of the Bronco’s tyre. Biting his lip, he folded his arms tight over his chest, knees drawing up as Ice kneeled down beside him and wrapped an arm back around his shoulders, rubbing up and down his arm soothingly all the while.. “In and out. Just like that. What the hell, Mav?” 

“Just trying to work out what we’re dealing with here,” Maverick replied, sounding tired and sad now. “Pete, can you look at me?”

Pete really didn’t want to. This was all humiliating and painful enough without risking bursting into tears the second he made eye contact with the old man as well. But, at the same time, this was the reality of the situation, and closing his eyes and hiding from it wasn’t going to change anything either, except to make him look even more childish. So whether he wanted to or not, he didn’t have much of a choice. 

Clenching his jaw tight and breathing in deeply through his nose, he (as resolutely as he could manage) lifted his head and met Mav’s eye. He wasn’t expecting to be met with a sympathetic expression. How could Mav see him so clearly, and still look at him like that. 

“Does that about sum it up?” the old man asked, cocking his head to the side. “What’s going on in that head of yours.”

Scrubbing roughly at his face, Pete nodded his head. 

“M-more or less.” 

Mav hummed thoughtfully, pausing a moment, before smiling and sitting down properly across from them. 

“You know,” he said, leaning back on his hands. “The first time I met Carole, she scared that absolute crap out of me.” 

Pete blinked, confused at the strange turn their conversation had taken, but interested all the same. Mav wasn’t shy with talking about Goose or Carole, but he’d never heard that. 

A fond smile tugged at the edges of the old man’s mouth as he looked up wistfully at the sky. 

“People underestimated her. She was so loud and joyous all the time, most people figured she was probably a bit dim. But they had no idea. Sure she was smart enough, but her real strength was with people. She had this way of looking at a person, just looking at them, and seeing past all the bullshit.”

He shook his head. 

“The first shore leave after Goose and I became a team, Goose insisted that I come home with him. He hadn’t realised until we were literally docking that I didn’t have anywhere to go, so the second he put the pieces together it was, ‘Come on, you have to, Mav! It’ll be great. You can meet Carole. You guys will get on like a house on fire, I know it’. And I, for the life of me, couldn’t come up with a good enough excuse to convince him otherwise. I think I was a bit blindsided that he was offering to spend more time together at all.” 

He scoffed. 

“Either way, the pressure was dialled up to 11,” he drawled. “Not only would I have to stay on my best behaviour for even longer, to keep Goose on side - and I’d been on a 6 month streak at that point and felt the end looming. But I also had to become best friends with his wife, immediately. Otherwise he’d wonder how he got that one so wrong. Then he’d look closer, and he’d see everything he’d somehow missed about me before. See exactly where I was lacking. Me getting to keep the one person in the navy, hell, the one person in the world that gave a damn about me - depended on this month going well.”

Rubbing at his scratchy eyes, Pete leaned a little more into Ice’s side, before asking. “You managed to pull that off?”

“Hell no, I lasted less than a week,” Mav scoffed, shaking his head. “And it only lasted that long because Goose and Carole had the patience of saints.”

Pete frowned. That didn’t make sense. He might not know this story but he knew a hell of a lot of the others that came later. He knew Mav stayed friends with Goose, and Carole as well, for years after when this would have happened. How could it not have worked? How did he screw up that badly and still manage to keep them around? 

He shot Ice a confused glance, receiving a ‘just roll with it’ shrug in response. 

“Carole was living in this tiny town in the middle of nowhere Texas at the time. Her aunt needed help moving or something. Unfortunately that meant I had had about six hours of travelling to work myself up and come up with a game plan for how I was going to make it all work. Going in with a charm offensive wouldn’t have done it, Goose would feel like making moves on his wife, Carole would feel like I was a creep, and I’d be stuck with both of them feeling like that for a month. I couldn’t risk being myself, for reasons already discussed. So I decided on the red carpet treatment. From the second I got out of Goose’s truck to the second we got back in it to head back to the airport, Carole Bradshaw would be shown a level of respect and deference that no admiral had or has ever received from me. The queen of England could have come around and found it excessive. But it was the best I had.

“I addressed her as ma’am, I stood when she walked into the room or got up from the table, I tried to help out around the house as much as I possibly could. A big part of the plan was also trying to give her and Goose as much space and time to themselves as possible. I wasn’t supposed to be there, and the absolute last thing I wanted is for them to miss out on time together because Goose felt obliged to bring me along with him. On paper, I thought it worked. Be respectful and stay out of the way. Unfortunately, in practice it went more along the lines of me actively avoiding everybody like it was my job and, whenever I couldn’t, making the situation so awkward it was uncomfortable for everybody. And it was uncomfortable. My god. Goose and Carole, they tried so hard to get me to relax, come out of my shell, do the exact opposite of what I was trying to do essentially. It was not going well,” Mav laughed, rubbing the back of his neck and shaking his head at the memory. 

“Goose knew I was acting off, which was putting me even more on edge. And I knew I was quickly moving past that ‘meeting new people is awkward sometimes’ grace period straight into ‘this little twerp I’ve known for a few months has got a problem with the love of my life’ territory. So not ideal. And Carol… Carol knew from the beginning that I was putting up a front, which made settling around her pretty much impossible.”

Pete grimaced sympathetically at the thought of it all. 

“At least you stuck it out,” he muttered. “I would have just left at that point.”

“Oh, I did,” Mav replied without missing a beat. “About five days in everything finally bubbled over. Goose tried to coax me into telling him what was wrong for about the millionth time and… well, after days of constantly being on red alert, barely sleeping from the stress, just second guessing every single move or sound I made while knowing, in spite of trying my best, it was all going to hell - I sort of lost it on him. Told him he could take whatever friendship he thought we had and shove it where the sun don’t shine because I sure as hell didn’t need it or him. That I'd been on my own for over half my life and I didn’t need anybody, thank you very much, least of all some hapless, sheltered country-boy who clearly didn’t know what was good for him if it smacked him in the face. Then I grabbed my bag and went straight to the train station.”

Pete blinked owlishly at that, confused to say the least. 

“But I thought Goose was your best friend,” he said. 

“He was,” Mav replied. 

“Even after that?!” 

“I know, I was surprised too.” 

Pete frowned, puzzling it over as Mav laughed softly and shook his head.. 

“This being the tiny town it was, the train didn’t run very often, and I’d missed the one for that day - which was just the cherry on the top really. I figured I’d just spend the night on the platform. Didn’t want to risk missing the next one, and I was feeling pretty sorry for myself at the time so it seemed fitting. Which was exactly where Carole found me three hours later.”

Ice scoffed softly beside Pete, shaking his head with a fond smile of his own. 

“Mother Goose sent in the big guns then,” he drawled. 

“I honestly have no idea if Goose even knew,” Mav replied, smiling reminiscently himself. “I think she just figured she’d given us both enough time to sulk and decided enough was enough.” 

He chuckled, tilting his head back as he recalled the encounter. 

“She came over and sat down on the ground beside me,” he said, looking around them, the corner of his lips twitching a fraction higher. “Sorta like we are right now.”

Pete smiled weakly at that. 

“She sat with me for the longest time, didn’t say a word, just waited me out, until she could tell I was ready to actually listen to her. Then she took my hand and said, “You know what, honey? If you were half as rotten as you’re afraid you are, you wouldn’t care nearly as much as you do”.”

Pete ducked his head as, all at once, tears started welling up once again. God he wanted that to be true. With every fibre of his being he did. He bit his lip as he felt Ice pull him a little tighter against his side, and heard Mav scoot closer himself, reaching out and rubbing his arm himself. 

“Do you think she was right about that,” he uttered, voice crackling with the strain of keeping himself together. 

Mav smiled, squeezing Pete’s arm gently as he inclined his head. 

“Honestly, I always had my doubts,” he confessed. “But these days… I think she probably was.” 

Before he could stop them, a couple of the tears Pete had been battling against broke free and rolled down his cheeks. 

“Oh, buddy,” Mav sighed, reaching up to rub the moisture away. “I’m so sorry. Sometimes I forget how much all of that stuff hurt.” 

Pete leaned into the contact, the corner of his mouth twitching a little as he did so.

“Actually pretty good to hear that from my perspective,” he murmured, drawing soft scoffs from the oldtimers. 

Shaking his head fondly, Mav patted Pete’s arm one last time before folding them over his crossed legs. 

“I’m telling you this for two reasons,” he said, ducking his head to meet Pete’s eye once again. “First, and I really am sorry for this but, unfortunately, this is just one of those cards that you and I got dealt. This is something that you were always going to have to work through. Being on your own for so long, and getting told so many times and in so many ways that nobody wants you, and nobody will ever want you - it leaves a mark. That doesn’t mean you’re broken. It's just a hurdle that we get that some people don’t. Everyone’s got their own set. For us - it’s being very, very aware of just how much other people can hurt you, while at the same time knowing how much the alternative hurts too.”

Pete sighed softly, but nodded all the same. That point wasn’t exactly news to him, but it still sucked hearing it all the same. 

“And second,” Mav said, reaching out and brushing Pete’s hair back from his face with a small, reassuring smile. “Even though it doesn’t always feel like it, and that feeling will flare up from time to time unfortunately, some people really do stay.”

Pete lifted his head to look at the old man properly, something like hope fluttering weakly in the pit of his belly. 

“They stick by you as long as they possibly can, through more crap than you could possibly imagine. I know it’s hard to really let yourself believe that right now. I know it feels like the second you do it’ll all fall apart around you, like a house of cards. But that will fade with time and with evidence. You’re just going to have to trust me until then. You’re not meant to be alone. There’s nothing fundamentally wrong or bad about you. The people who are worth a damn, they stay - you just have to let them in in the first place.”

The older man leaned closer, whispering conspiratorially, “Just be careful, because once you do, it’s all bets off. I had one moment of weakness around Slider 36 years ago and now I’m stuck with him.” 

Pete laughed wetly at that, smiling back as Mav practically beamed at him. 

“I hope you’re right,” he uttered, rubbing again at his face. 

“I am,” Mav replied, nodding firmly. “And look, I’m not going to lie to you and promise forever. Nobody knows what’s around the corner. Hell, a tsunami could take us all out right now.” 

Pete scoffed softly, rolling his eyes as Maverick ruffled his hair teasingly. 

“But the stuff you’re worried about, the mistakes you’re worried about making, I’m sorry but they’re just not gonna cut it.” 

Ice nodded at that. 

“Unfortunately, to shake us at this point you’d have to do things that you’re simply not capable of. And they certainly wouldn’t be accidental.” 

Pete frowned slightly, glancing between the two of them. 

“...Could you give me a clue?” he asked. “You know, to be safe.”

Ice scoffed softly, before cocking his head to the side thoughtfully.

“Alright. We’re talking about doing things that would deliberately traumatise others. Not accidents, like a car crash or getting in a really bad fight, though we’d all rather you avoided that too. Stuff that’s just evil. Things specifically done to make somebody else feel afraid or humiliated or less than” Ice replied calmly, brow rising pointedly. “Do you feel that avoiding that sort of behaviour would be a struggle for you?”

“Fuck, no,” Pete replied, nose wrinkling at the thought of doing anything along those lines.

Ice  nodded. 

“There you go. There’s the bar,” he replied simply. “Anything above that? Worst case scenario, you’re the pain in the ass of the week. And that’s a title we’ve all held at one point or another.”

“Even you?”

“Unjustly,” he sniffed. 

“Ask Uncle Sli about it some time,” Mav replied without missing a beat, before turning back to Pete before Ice could retort. “Honestly kiddo, do you really think Bradely was an angel growing up?” 

“Well… yeah?”

“Think again,” Ice drawled. 

Mav hummed, nodding seriously. 

“Off the top of my head, there was that time he threw a party with his baseball team while we were out of town and trashed the house.”

“The bike he borrowed without asking, rode unlicensed, and totalled - on a dare.” 

“The kitchen he nearly burned down because ‘guys - you can’t pause online games, how many times do I have to tell you?’ and ‘I want bacon’ turned out to be a bad mix.”

“The spy-phase that ended with him trying to sneak onto a military base, ours that is, and then refusing to answer any questions or co-operate after getting caught.” 

“I maintain that that was mostly Hollywood’s fault for taking him to watch True Lies.” 

Pete blinked, stunned by the antics of, by far, one of the more mature ‘big brothers’ he had. 

Ice scoffed, rolling his eyes with a fond smile. 

“And we still love the kid. Did back then when it happened and through much less amusing run-ins too,” he said, before squeezing Pete a little tighter to his side. “So try not to worry so much. You’re a kid, you’re supposed to do stupid things. Mav does stupid things every other day and we still keep him around. And that’s these days. He was an absolute menace when I first met him. And six years older than you are now. You’re a dream in comparison.”

Mav huffed. 

“You are a delight,” he said, patting Pete on the shoulder, before shooting his husband a pointed look. “But I think some people are forgetting which one of us introduced himself by immediately talking shit.”

“We were competing and the fact that you still bring it up almost 40 years later just further emphasises what a sound psychological victory that introduction was for me.”

“I mean I wanted to kick your ass all the more afterwards, so I’m not sure how much of a victory it was.”

“Well you never did, so a big one I would say.”

“Bullshit I never did-!”

“Go-ddddddd,” Pete groaned, though he couldn’t help but grin at the bickering, which, in the span of 10 months, had somehow become the comforting soundtrack of home for him (which probably said a lot about Ice and Maverick, but who cares). “Wher’es Tom when you need him?”

“Our point,” Ice said pointedly, shooting Mav a look that said quite clearly ‘we’re supposed to be a united front, genius (also, you know I’m right), “Is that you’re going to make mistakes. Everybody does. You’re going to do stupid things, things that we don’t approve of. And, because we’re here to help you become the best person you can be, we’ll call you out on it. At one point or another, we’ll disagree, we’ll argue, feelings will probably get hurt, egos will get bruised. And then, we’re going to be here anyway. Because you’re a member of this family and that’s not going to change.” 

“And we’ll remind you of that however many times you need,” Mav replied, smiling warmly at him, before slapping his own knees and leaning back. “Now, how would you like to proceed from here? Are you alright breaking the Birthday Drought today or would you like to go home and we can just have a nice family dinner tonight. Which would you rather?”

Pete bit his lip, fiddling with a loose thread on the hem of his t-shirt. 

“I guess I… I wouldn’t mind staying,” he replied, his heart and stomach fluttering again at the thought of all these people, his family, turning up just for him. But this time, he found his emotions leaning more on the side of nervous excitement rather than all-consuming dread. “I mean, It’s been a minute.” 

“You’re sure?” Ice asked seriously, rubbing Pete’s back reassuringly. “Don’t feel like you have to if you don’t want to.” 

Pete ducked his head, a small smile spreading across his face as, for the first time since this whole miscommunication came to light, and before that really, something seemed to settle inside of him. Some knot of tension that had been there for so long that he’d just learned to live with it, seemed to ease just the littlest bit. He did not doubt, for a second, that if he decided to leave now, Ice and Mav (and Tom) would cover for him, would back him up and stand in his corner. Whether they needed to or not, and Pete suspected things would probably topple in the direction of ‘not’ because the others would understand.

Drawing in a deep, calming breath (like Ice had been teaching him) he lifted his head a smiled a little wide. 

“I want to,” he said. “Seriously, if I ever say no to chocolate cake I want you to assume that somebody’s stolen my face and is impersonating me.” 

“Mark that down for both of us,” Mav replied, nodding empathetically. 

“Noted,” Ice scoffed, smiling as the three of them got back to their feet. “In that case, we should probably get back. Tom said he’d try to keep them all in one place to give us a moment alone but the fact that he seems to have managed it is making me nervous.” 

Pete snickered as Mav shot him an amused grin, before they both followed Ice back to the beach. It turned out the old man may have been right to worry. 

“In my defence,” Tom drawled as he jogged over to meet them. “I didn’t expect them all to lose their minds.” 

Pete felt like that was a pretty accurate description for the mayhem they’d just walked into. Almost all the daggers and a few of the flyboys were shouting, waving their arms about, jabbing fingers in faces or, in Fanboy’s case, cackling rather manically. And those that weren’t seemed content to either enjoy the show or stoke the fires all the more. It was pandemonium. 

“What did you do?” Ice sighed as they drew closer. 

Tom shrugged. 

“I casually mentioned that Pete and I watched Die Hard for the first time, and asked what other Christmas movies we should watch. And, well...” 

“IT’S SET ON CHRISTMAS EVE, BAGMAN!!! HOW MUCH MORE OBVIOUS DO YOU NEED IT?!” 

“THAT’S ALL YOU’VE GOT! IT’S AN ACTION MOVIE-”

“ON CHRISTMAS EVE!” 

“OH MY GOD! SO WHAT?! SO WHAT?!!” 

“Well, it did distract them,” Ice replied, arching a brow as he took it all in. “They’re going to go full Lord of the Flies any moment now, but it worked.” 

Tom grinned, before slinging an arm around Pete’s shoulders and drawling, “Wanna make it worse?”

“You’ve been a terrible influence on him,” Ice sighed, shooting Mav a despairing glance as Pete laughed softly and shrugged. 

“Sure.”

Tom winked before calling over the noise, “Alright, maybe Die Hard can go one way or the other-”

“NO IT CAN’T,” Jake and Nat hollered in unison, before immediately shooting each other disgusted glares. 

“But surely we can all agree that Nightmare before Christmas-” 

And they were off again, with renewed vigour and with previous alliances suddenly shattered. 

Pete laughed as he took it all in. Tom’s arm around his shoulders; Mav and Ice squeezing his arm and ruffling his hair respectively as they walked by to try and reign in the chaos; Rooster and Hangman each elbowing their way through the crowd, hollering for him to back them up. 

The fears were still there, bubbling away beneath the surface. Pete felt that they probably always would. Allowing himself to stay this attached, to actually believe that maybe this time, just this once, things truly would turn out different… it was risky. Frankly it was downright dangerous. 

“Right, enough of this!!” Rooster hollered over the noise. “Let’s settle this properly.” 

“Agreed,” Jake replied, nodding firmly. “Dogfight football. I bags the babies.” 

“What?!” 

“You can’t take both of them!”

“Can. Did. Pete, Tom, come on.” 

Sometimes, the risks were worth taking. And, well, he’d always liked to think he was a little dangerous.

[duskyashe]

CAMP NANO DAY 12

[AO3]

============·^·^·^·============

Danny could have cried in relief. All of his hard work (and Jazz's pointed words with the more friendly of his rogues) had paid off—Danny could finally, finally take a nap. His homework was caught up, all his chores were done, his parents were off terrorizing yet another ghost hunters convention, and the only ghost he'd had to deal with the entire day had been a blob ghost making itself at home in the neighbor's trash can. With Jazz and his friends on deck for emergency ghost wrangling, Danny couldn't find it in himself to feel anything but relief as he buried himself under his blankets on his rarely used bed.

As the sixteen year old half ghost started drifting off, eagerly looking forward to catching up on his sleep, a familiar green glow appeared over his bed and a bone chilling gasp got stuck in the back of his throat, startling Danny awake. "No, no, no, come on!" Danny cried out in frustration. "Just one undisturbed afternoon nap, is that too much to ask?!" Half expecting Wulf to come tumbling out of the dimensional tear that was suspended above his bed, Danny changed forms and sat up against his headboard. If the Esperanto speaking ghost showed up, Danny wanted ready access to his ghost half's innate understanding of all languages spoken by the dead and the NeverBorn.

Instead of Wulf, however, the person who fell through the unstable portal and onto his bed was wearing an armored costume. A very familiar armored costume. What was Nightwing doing in his bedroom?!

The Gotham vigilante quickly rolled off his bed and landed in a crouch, visibly taking the situation in. It was something Danny, himself, had done many times over the past two years, and personal experience had him raising his hands and carefully holding them away from himself as a peaceful gesture. Even though Danny was hella confused, he let Nightwing dictate when the questioning began.

He wasn't even going to think about the kinds of questions his bedroom would raise or the deductions that one of the superhero community's greatest detectives would be able to make from this experience. That way led madness.

Apparently satisfied with his visual scan of Danny's room, Nightwing turned the majority of his attention to Danny and asked, "Who are you?" Overall, definitely one of the better questions to ask in this situation.

"I'm Phantom," Danny replied, then cringed at the remembered lecture from Pandora about titles and using them and amended his statement. "King Phantom, I guess."

Nightwing's attention narrowed in on him at that, feeling almost like a laser. "King Phantom? Ghost King Phantom?"

Danny scowled at that, suddenly understanding the gist of what had happened. "Let me guess, some hoity toity big wig fruitloop kidnapped and sacrificed you to the Ghost King, either for favor, power, immortality, or all of the above?"

His reaction seemed to have set Nightwing off balance somewhat, as the man hesitated slightly before responding much less hostilely. "Yessss? I mean, the Lazarus Pits have been growing less and less potent over the last two years, and Ra's seems to be getting more than a little desperate. Apparently he did the same ritual once before, about four hundred years ago, and ended up with the Lazarus Pits. The same Pits that are losing potency at a frankly astonishing rate."

"Of course," Danny mumbled with a curse and a facepalm. "Here's the problem. Two years ago, there was a different Ghost King. He was very much not a good dude, very power hungry and very evil. He probably received that sacrifice four hundred years ago and decided it was a good investment, and so created those Lazarus Pits as a show of favor. They probably granted inhuman power and the ability to cheat death, right?" At Nightwing's nod, Danny continued. "Yeah, see, there's no real way to cheat death, not like that. Death comes for everyone eventually, you can just prolong the inevitable. Ever since I defeated the previous King in ritualistic single combat, all favors, spells, and curses put in place by the former King have been dissolving without the power of the throne behind them. Unless the new King, me, reinforces those favors, spells, and curses, they will eventually wither into nothing." Danny saw Nightwing start to pale and hurried to reassure him. "Luckily for you, I have no intention of doing that. You'd become my thrall and effectively die right here and now if I did. I really don't want to do that, you're one of my favorite heroes ever, so instead what I'm going to do is basically quicken the process of those Lazarus Pits drying up. Anyone willing to sacrifice one of the heroes of the world for a little bit of power and prolong their death will never find favor from me," Danny declared, feeling his eyes flash silver as his Royal Decree was written in the very fabric of the universe. "Now! How about we get you back to where you belong!"

============·^·^·^·============

So sorry for missing yesterday, my boyfriend flew in from out of state, so I had to go pick him up from the airport, which was almost three hours one way, and I ended up with hardly any time to write. I also forgot to write for a good portion of today, so this was a bit rushed and not at all what I was originally planning on writing (⁠^⁠～⁠^⁠;⁠)⁠ゞ but hey! Another prompt from the Batpham server has been written and published! (⁠ノ⁠^⁠_⁠^⁠)⁠ノ

I'm trying to finish Cryptid Crash Course chapter 3 for y'all, but I can't quite get the opening to work the way I want it to, so I'm letting it sit and marinate in the back of my head (⁠；⁠^⁠ω⁠^⁠）don't worry, I'm planning on finishing the entirety of Cryptid Crash Course this month! I just don't know when that'll actually be ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠⊙⁠_⁠ʖ⁠⊙⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

Once again, if anyone wants to add on to this, please feel free! I fully intend for this to be the only time I touch on this world, so it's free game, y'all (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧ have at it!

Have a good morning/day/night wherever you are!

[angelicglib]

‧₊✩ Christmas Comfort ✩₊‧

[ꜱɪᴍᴏɴ ʀɪʟᴇʏ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ]

[ᴅᴀᴛᴇ ᴘᴏꜱᴛᴇᴅ]: 25/12/23 (REPOSTED: 28/12/23)

[ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ]: After Johnny's death and a failed mission, Simon returns home to his girlfriend.

[ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ]: 3,252

[ᴛᴡ]: hurt/comfort, angst, a somewhat happy ending (it will never be fully happy without soap I am sorry) possible mw3 spoilers (if you have been living under a rock please avoid)

[ᴀ/ɴ]: This is my first story here, please be kind I beg <3 also very sorry for this but I had the idea and thought it would be quite a bittersweet story for the holiday season !!

THIS IS A REPOST !! I've had few issues with shadowbans and have moved accounts a few times (tumblr thought I was a bot) so, if you would like more stories from me, my new blog is @manicrouge !!

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Christmas this year is going to be tough.

You know it from when you open the door to him on Christmas Eve. 

Time has passed, he hasn’t been home for months and you were starting to convince yourself that it’s going to be years before you ever see him again.

When you were talking on the phone earlier, sometime during the middle of November, he had made a comment that he wasn’t going to come back home until he had made sure he had the pleasure of declaring that the enemy that had murdered his best friend was officially gone for good. While your chest tightened at his comment, you had nodded along and assured him that they would catch Makarov eventually; there were only so many places one man could hide before he’d revert back to familiar ground. 

You feared the same for Simon at that moment. In fact, even with him home safe, you still do.  

Of course, you would never say that to his face.

Despite his capability in combat, however, you often find yourself awake at night wondering just how capable he was when it came to processing and dealing with loss. Had he done what you assume he has done, he was most likely going to run from it instead of addressing it. Problems will build up and up until they came tumbling down. It’s a simple thought to construct during the late nights you have been spending alone since the news of what had happened to Johnny had found its way to you. Just as such a thought is easy to construct, you find that another one comes to you quicker than the former: where would Simon be when the building he’d constructed over the years fell to pieces? 

There were only so many places he man could hide before he’d refer back to familiar ground. Even if said ground was crumbling around him. Maybe in his misery, he would find solace in falling to his doom with the chunks of shattered earth surrounding him.

If that assessment is wrong, it doesn't matter; your brain has decided it before your heart even gets a say.

You have very little to go off of concerning with how he dealt with loss, the occasional comment about his mum was enough for you to know that he wasn’t the type to completely forget about a loved one. 

He's vague about his past. The less said about it the better. 

‘You keep pawing an’ clawing at my brain like a damn puppy,’ he said, trailing his hands through your hair. You were guilty, for sure you were. Curiosity was sure to be the death of you in that regard. He’d let small facts slip on occasion, although, you knew his accidental slip ups were most definitely intention. 

Of course, Simon Riley was no fool.

’Just tell me something,’ you begged, ‘like… I don’t know, what was your favourite food to eat at Christmas when you were younger? Ooo, I bet it was something like liquorice. You’d so make your nan pissed by robbing all the good shit out of the sweet tin.’ You laughed at the thought of a tiny Simon Riley climbing on top of a chair, his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he attempted to snatch the sweet, sweet treat of liquorice. 

‘Are you fuckin’ kidding me?’ he scoffed, ‘actin’ like I’m an old man doll,’ he snorted, ‘stop tryin’ to pester me f’r memories you have no business viewing.’

‘Is it illegal to be curious now?’ you asked with a playful smile. It was silent for a moment, and you lifted your head in an attempt to find his eyes in the darkness.

‘Yes, it is,’ he said, ‘you don’t wanna know me from the past, love,’ he huffed, ‘doesn’t matter now.’

‘You won’t even tell me what your favourite food was during Christmas?’ 

‘No,’ he reverted back to the same Simon you had seen when Johnny had been talking his ear off during the rare nights out you had had with 141. ’Now go t’ sleep, gonna be tired in the morning if you keep rambling on. My ears are burning with ya, doll,’ he teased, wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you firmly against his chest. 

Despite everything telling you to pull away from him, you maintained your closeness, the warmth of him far too appetising to refuse. Exhaling deeply, you rested your head against the pillow, staring straight at the wall in front of you. Your heart hurt at the very thought that he cared so little about his past that he fought to keep everything from his earlier life away from you. Even the smallest things. Of course, you would never had pried him, only the few passing comments in hopes for him to slip up as he had done a few times before. 

Another hard sigh escaped you as you close your eyes. He shifted behind you, resting his head against your shoulder. You thought nothing of his sudden movement; it wasn’t uncommon for him to do so while you were sharing a bed together. Only, he turned his head, his breath ghosting your ear. Inhaling, he swallowed hard. ‘Mum used to make us roast dinners,’ he whispered, ‘used to always slap my hand away whenever she was cooking cause I used to always rob the pigs-in-blankets while she was still getting dinner ready.’

A small laugh passed your lips as you turned in his hold, placing your hand against his cheek with a cheeky grin. He stares back, blue gaze gutting through the darkness, slicing your soul to pieces.  ‘Now, will y’ stop huffin’ and puffing and just go to sleep?’ He asked, placing his hand over yours. 

‘Soundly, Lt.’

Even behind the mask, you could sense the sadness, the loss. A flurry of emotions hits you when you first see him after what has happened. What can you say to him? Anything other than I’m sorry seems to be an insult to him and to the memory of the man that is sure to haunt him.

The mask hides his face, but it never hid his eyes, his tired and war-weary eyes. It's a brutal sight to see the man who had put the fear of God through you when you had first met reduced to this crushed soul. 

‘Simon,’ you say after a while of the pair of you just standing there, staring at each other. For a brief moment, it felt as though you had opened the door to a stranger instead of your boyfriend. Lifting his head, his Adams apple bobs beneath his balaclava as he steps forward. You take a step back, letting go of the edge of the door. Still, he doesn't speak, only standing there, observing you. ‘I thought you said you weren’t coming home until—‘

‘Don’t wanna talk about it,’ he answers, closing the door behind him.

His clothes are branded with the stench of war, and you take note of his bloodshot eyes. Has he been crying? You thought it impossible for such to be the case, he’d do no such thing. But, when he shakily inhales, grabbing the edge of his balaclava, your stomach dropped.

‘Place looks nice,’ he says, though his eyes don't leave you, ripping his mask from off of his face, shoving it into of his cargo pants. His words were shaky despite the stoic expression on his face. ‘You been alright?’

You look at him with wide eyes. ‘I- uh- yeah, yeah, just sorting out last minute things for Christmas,’ you answer, ‘how about you go and get a shower, get changed into some fresh clothes? I’ll make you something to eat—‘

‘Not hungry,’ he answers frankly, ‘appreciate the offer, doll, but I think I’m just gonna go straight to bed,’ he says. All the moisture in your mouth disappears and you’re forced to swallow a dry mouthful of air as you look up at him. 

‘Right,’ you nod, ‘I- I’ll be up right after you, just gonna turn everything off down here,’ you say.

He doesn’t answer you after that, dropping his duffle bag down on the ground by the front door as he traipses up the wooden steps of your home. The garland wrapped around the bannister winks at you as you watch Simon walk up the stairs, almost mocking you for ever think it was a good idea to decorate.

The entirety of your house is wrapped like a Christmas present, reds, greens, colourful lights- everything. Whether it was the right thing to decorate or not, you choose not to focus on it too much as you rush around the house, switching off the decorations and the lights, leaving the washing you had been doing on the counter in the kitchen. 

All of it can wait. But he can’t. 

So, with such a thought in mind, you busy yourself with your plan. What is included in that plan can be decided as you’re walking through the house, back to the staircase you have just seen your poor boyfriend walking up.

Jogging up each step, you decide that ultimately, everything that has happened in the past few months with be something he will not be willing to discuss with you; he made it clear when he walked through the door. Don’t push him on it.

When your foot hits the last step, you nod to yourself as you consider what you would do if he did want to talk to you about it. If he wants to talk to you about it, then you rejoice in his openness. But it isn’t necessary for him to have your undying support. No matter what he decides, ultimately, your heart is never going to fail on him. 

Before heading into your bedroom, you gulp when you feel your phone buzz in your pocket. Pulling it out of your pocket, your eyes scan over the message, a shallow exhale escaping your lips. 

Mum &lt;3: Can’t wait to see you tomorrow. made sure to grab extra pigs-in-blankets incase Simon decides to appear sometime. Love you xx

Begrudgingly, you stare down at the message before looking at the bedroom door. From beyond it, you can hear the running water in the shower and all you can think about is him. So, with a deep breath, you look back down at your phone and begin to type. 

From ‘me’: Slight change of plans but I don’t think we’re going to be able to make it there tomorrow. Simon’s just got home and he’s not good. Don’t think socialising is what he needs right now. Sorry, I love you xx

Choosing has never been easy, yet, when you pushed open the bedroom door and saw his clothes sitting on the bed the pair of you share, you decide that that choice was the easiest one you have ever made in your life. It isn’t a sacrifice when it is necessary. At least, not when it comes to Simon at least. 

--

‘I’m not going home tomorrow,’ you tell him when he walks out of the bathroom. Part of you feels bad for bombarding him with something as soon as he walks out, but the affirming text from your mother causes your heart to swell, and when you see him again, it bursts. His hair is damp and he pulls his face out of the towel with a surprised look. His scarred cheeks are branded with a subtle red tinge from the heat exuding from the bathroom. The heat works well to melt his features just enough for him to mould them into a dissatisfied sneer. ‘I don’t wanna fight you on this, Si.’

‘You can’t cancel on your family,’ he says, approaching his dresser. ‘Not right. I don’t want you to do that for me,’ he continues, grabbing a t-shirt, pulling it over his head. ‘Go spend time with them, am fine here.’ 

‘I already told my mum,’ you say, ‘she’s fine with it,’ you quickly reassure, far too aware that he very well may be a ticking time bomb.

Oddly, you request of not fighting on it seemingly works as he looks over his shoulder at you. There is simply no fight left in Simon Riley anymore, you conclude it from the way he shrinks as he exhales, padding up to the bed. It was as though he had left the house as a grenade left the hands of a soldier. Upon his return, the body of what made him him: his danger, his determination, and his strength had all been lost and you find he has been reduced to the pin pulled from the grenade. 

Looking up at him, you find that it is up to you if you’re going to discard it or keep it as a keepsake.

Pulling the edge of the duvet, you pat the side of the mattress, ‘c’mon,’ you say gently. He doesn’t wait to climb into bed beside you, resting his weary head against the pillow. It’s as though someone is pressing down on his chest as he heaves a sound unlike anything you have ever heard. Exhaustion was clear, but grief was easier to identify in his eyes. Leaning over, you turn the lamp on your beside off, trying your attention to him, lying on his side. 

There’s nothing to say. Not to him, not for him, not for yourself. You just lay there and stare at him hoping something will come to you. Anything said will be a bittersweet lullaby, you’re convinced. Nothing is going to put him to sleep. ‘Your minds running; faster than mine, sweetheart,’ he says. His eyes are closed when you look at his face. ‘Don’t want you doin’ stupid things ‘cause of me.’

‘Nothing is stupid when it comes to you, Si’,’ you weakly state.

At this point, you heart is racing, your tongue tangled as you contemplate every single word on the edge of your tongue. ‘Mum said she’ll bring us dinner tomorrow,’ you say with a weak smile, debating on whether or not you should spoil the surprise. ‘We can eat it and watch something… if you want to.’

‘What’s she bringing,’ he asks.

‘A roast,’ you answer, ‘it is Christmas after all.’

He’s quiet for a while, almost as though he doesn’t even want to think about what day it is. December 24th. Christmas Eve. You’re unsure how exactly the holidays work in 141, only noting that he had been away a few times during Christmas. Oddly, this is one of the first ones he’s home with you. His second Christmas since knowing Johnny that he isn’t with him. Your heart weakens at the realisation, your brain cursing you with the knowledge of something so agonising.

They had spent Christmas together.

And now they won’t and never will and it isn’t just because of the distance between Manchester and Scotland.

Rather, it’s because of the distance between this life and the next.

Your eyes well with tears and you close them. Your heart hurts for the man lying in front of you, and when you hear him clear his throat, you find it difficult to contain your own sorrow. ‘Doesn’t feel like Christmas,’ he tells you, his voice trembling as he does. ‘Haven’t slept at all since ‘cause I can’t stop thinking about him just… lyin’ there,’ his throat tightens and his tone grows pitchy as he inhales deeply, swallowing hard. ‘I shoulda done something, I should’ve been there f’r him.’ 

He’s crying at that point, but not sobbing. In fact, you only know he's crying because, when you place your hand against his cheek and the pad of your thumb wiped away a tear that falls past his eye. ‘You were,’ you choke out, ‘even in death, you were loyal to him, Si’, don’t you dare go cursing your own name for something you were not responsible for,’ you demand. ‘You’ll get him.’

‘We’re fallin’ apart without him,’ Simon sniffles, ‘bet he’s sitting up there pissin’ himself seeing me like this,’ he utters. The pair of you share a laugh at the thought and you move close to him. ‘I just… I told myself after everything that happened to mum and Tommy, I wouldn’t feel anything ‘cause that fucked me up, but then I met Johnny a- and I met you.’

You hold your breath. 

‘Simon—‘

‘And what if I can’t keep you safe? I’ve failed at it so much and that fucking pricks got me doubting myself now—‘

‘Shut up,’ you firmly say, ‘I don’t wanna hear it, Si’,’ you utter, ‘and neither would Johnny.’

You press your thumb against his cheek, ‘doubt is a killer, and it’s not me who you’re not gonna be able to protect if you keep thinking the way you are, it’s yourself,’ you continue, licking your dry lips, ‘and… and if you die, then who’s gonna steal the pigs-and-blankets on Christmas Day?’ 

Whether it was time for humour or not, you’re unsure. But, as you thinking for a moment, you recall the tales told to you by Simon during his time away, particularly his time with the Shadows. 

Two goldfish are in a tank… 

‘You still remember that?’ he asks eventually. You feel the muscles contort in his face as he smiles at you. 

‘Always,’ you respond, ‘mums got them with the dinner tomorrow ‘cause I asked her too… said she got extra incase you planned on robbing any of them.’ You feel bad telling him such information knowing that you had chosen to cancel the holiday. If anything, you’re worried about the guilt you’re causing him by rambling on about the stupid fucking pigs-in-blankets. ‘My point is Si’,’ you take a deep breath, ‘I need you here with me so you can fulfil your duty.’

He shifts and pulls you closer, wrapping his arm around your waist, pressing his face into the nape of your neck. Your hand brushes through his hair, melting in his arms as his hot breath fans against your neck. ‘Wanna see your family tomorrow,’ he says, ‘I’ll go with you.’

‘Are you sure—‘

‘’Ave been stuck in my mind for nearly two months,’ he confesses, pulling away from your neck. ‘Fighting with myself over everything, I’ve hardly spoken to Price or Gaz,' he says. You press your lips together, the thought of him being alone nauseating. ‘Be a waste of money as well if I didn’t try pinching the food your mums made, wouldn’t it?’ 

You feel him smile as he presses his face back against your neck, his grip on you so tight its almost painful. But you relent, allowing him to have the comfort he so deserves. Resting your head above his, you close your. Whatever awaited you in the future can wait, you conclude.

‘I proud of you,’ you whisper, pressing a kiss onto his head. 'Never gonna let you doubt yourself ever again, not on my watch,' you continue, 'now sleep. We can talk more when you're ready.'

He smiles again.

'I know I can sleep soundly now,' he utters against your skin, 'got you beside me.'

With that, the pair of you fall into silence. You don't sleep, not until you feel his breathing steady against you skin, the subtle rise of his chest as he keeps his arms around you. You keep running you fingers through his hair before eventually, you find your eyes growing heavy and you drift off.

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[phantompoguefangirl]

GREEN LIGHT-SPENCER REID

'Love compels cruelty To those who do not understand love.'

'I learn a great deal by merely observing you, and letting you talk as long as you please, and taking note of what you do not say.'

'In my end is my beginning.'

T.S. Eliot

A/N: Based on the episodes Green Light and Red light and basically that whole section of Season 12. Fluff and ANGST. This is also on my wattpad SerpentBeauty1710 and will be on my AO3, MayaGillespieReid

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Y/N POV:

Nothing could have prepared me for any of this.

Not for the way my soul left my body when the words "Spencer is in jail in Mexico" came out of Emily's horrified mouth.

Not for the anxiety being stuck home waiting for answers when half the team went down to get him.

Not for the relief and yet underlying tornado of emotions when the beautiful, kind and innocent boy wonder, the love of my life, my sweet Spencer...walked into the BAU in handcuffs.

The frustration when my short legs and rapidly expanding belly wouldn't let me get to him faster. The pain when he couldn't hug me back, then the love and desperation I felt him return by nuzzling his face into my neck as best he could while his bound hands caressed my bump. The soft but urgent warmth of his lips as I reached up to kiss him. The brief touch of his forehead to mine and the whispered reassurances right before Emily led him back to the elevator.

The way I broke down sobbing when the judge denied bail.

And the agony of waiting, of knowing he was so close to home and not being able to hold him or keep him safe. And on top of that, the stress of not knowing if he would get out in time, if at all...

The team did their best to support me through it and took turns helping with Diana when they could, along with the caregiver Spencer and I had hired for her. We had decided to move into a house with a mother in law suite for Diana when Spencer brought her to live with us in DC. We'd agreed Diana would do better with her own space and it ended up being a really good thing we moved. The team helped me finish settling in. Garcia was all over decorating, Emily JJ  and Tara helped me organize everything, Derek and our new agent Luke handled any repairs and/or replacements that needed done and Rossi brought his delicious food regularly. Hotch had very recently gone into in witsec with Jack, but I knew he'd be here helping too if he could.

I smiled appreciatively at the thought of our friends as I struggled to roll out of bed and padded to the kitchen for breakfast. I was grabbing a croissant from the container when I felt a small pinch in my neck and everything went dark.

The next thing I knew, I was waking up in what seemed to be a trunk. I was going to kick a tail light out or or scream or something but my hands and feet were tied up and there was duct tape over my mouth. It was cold, much more so probably due to the fact that I was only in a tank top and pajama shorts.

I didn't recognize my captors' voices but I tried to listen to the youngish girl and older man when they spoke. They mostly talked in low tones so it was difficult, but I heard them whisper Diana's name and something about the caregiver which caused my heart and stomach to constrict in terror. I wanted to scream at them to tell me where my mother in law was, but I knew it would probably do no good and I still had the tape on my mouth anyway.

What felt like days(but was probably only hours) passed and the only respite I had was when the man moved me to a different trunk and removed the tape before holding the phone to my ear. I recognized the phone number on the screen.

"Spencer?" I whimpered, shifting umcomfortably as the man held on to the ropes around me.

"Y/N, are you okay?!" He cried out desperately.

"Yeah we're okay, I think," I answered softly. "But Spencer, they have Mom. I don't know where, she's not with me but-"

The man shoved the tape back over my mouth and closed the trunk. I thought I heard Diana's scared voice right before he took the phone away, which was odd. I did hear a gunshot right outside a second later though, followed by a loud explosion, before the vehicle I was in roared to life and was suddenly in motion.

I tried to mentally document all of my surroundings, while simultaneously looking around for something to cut my bindings with, in order to keep myself from panicking. However, every so often the tightening feeling would return and I felt like I couldn't breathe.

Spencer's soft voice in my mind reassured me and reminded me how amazing our team is, which helped to soothe me a little. That led me to distract myself with thoughts of my wonderful husband. Of every little thing about him that I was so in love with. Things like his ridiculously cute laugh, our shared fascination with books and learning, the way he loved so deeply with his entire heart, his gentle kindness, his relentless determination, etc. One of my favorite things was the expression on his face whenever he concentrated hard on anything or whenever he was deep in thought. The way his brow furrowed while he rested his chin on his folded hand, every so often running his thumb or knuckle across his bottom lip or sometimes against his chin. I'd never seen him do this so intensely until the day he figured out this special puzzle box I'd had made for him.

*FLASHBACK*

It took me a bit to think of a good way to tell him the news. I didn't want to just say the words or show him the test or something simple. I wanted it to be as special as he was to me. It was a conversation we'd had about Sherlock Holmes that finally gave me the idea. I created a little scavenger hunt for him, the last clue of which was a puzzle box for him to solve. He loved puzzles and riddles. The answer to open the box was a phrase that he would have to guess.

He figured out the clues to the hunt much faster than expected, but the puzzle box actually took him quite a while to figure out. He got so determined to crack it that he brought it to work, unbeknownst to me. I was shocked when I walked into the round table room(I'd stopped in the break room for some tea which we were sadly out of) and found him studying it, eyebrows furrowed very deeply, head on hand and thumb brushing against his lip while Garcia and Hotch were briefing us on a case. I tried not to stare at him, because let's be honest it was unbelievably hot when he looked like that, and silently hoped he would not crack the code till later. Of course I had no such luck. He was a genius after all.

"I'm pregnant? What? I'm not-" Spencer suddenly said out loud, causing us all to stop and look at him. He was silenced by the box unlocking as he finished turning the small knobs to the correct letters. He saw what was inside and his eyes grew to the size of bowling balls as he picked it up. His face snapped up to look at me and he jumped out of his seat at the same time. "YOU'RE PREGNANT?!"

Everyone gaped at us. I froze, having not even made it into a chair yet.

"I...um...yeah," I managed to get out after a moment.

Spencer's mouth dropped open and his eyes somehow softened while staying wide. His floppy brown curls made him look even more like a puppy as he reached for me and squeaked out the word "Really?"

My heart melted, every emotion flooding to the surface, as I stepped closer to him.

"Yeah really. We're gonna have a baby, Spence," I said softly, smiling tentatively.

A gasp escaped Spencer's lips as he pulled me into his arms and spun me around while everyone cheered. He set me down and kissed me passionately through happy tears before the team engulfed us in hugs.

"Congratulations, you two," Hotch said, revealing a rare, genuine smile.

"Tanta Felicità!" Rossi exclaimed in Italian as he kissed our cheeks.

"You guys! This is amazing!" JJ said, "You're gonna be great parents!"

Tara echoed this enthusiastically, affectionately wrapping her arms around us for a brief moment before backing up.

"Wow, I was totally kidding when I asked if you wanted little baby geniuses some day. I'm so glad I was right though. This is wonderful news!" Emily quipped, grinning.

"BABY GENIUS THERE IS GOING TO BE A BABY GENIUS OH MY GOD I'M SO HAPPY FOR YOU RIGHT NOW OH MY GOD!" Penelope all but screeched as she embraced us tightly, continuing to ramble. "Auntie Penelope is gonna spoil the heck out of this little one just like I do with Henry and Michael! I hope it's a girl but as long as he or she is healthy that's all that really matters."

"Way to go, Pretty Boy. I didn't know you had it in you!" Morgan joked once Garcia was done, clapping Spencer on the shoulder as we all giggled. "But I couldn't be happier for you both."

"Thanks man," Spencer chuckled, as he looked down at the object in his hands and teared up some more.

"What is it?" Morgan asked. Nobody had seemed to notice the object before but now they all zeroed in on it.

"A onesie?" JJ asked.

"It says 'Daddy's little Genius'...Daddy... I'm gonna be a dad...," Spencer murmured, smiling in that adorable way he does when he's emotional.

A chorus of awwwws filled the room followed by them scruffing Spencer's hair or clapping him on the shoulders again. I also received more hugs and a couple kisses on the head from Morgan and Rossi.

Hotch let us celebrate for a second, and celebrated with us, before drawing our attention back to the case at hand. Of course, Penelope told us we were having a real celebration when we got back and would not take no for an answer. And that's exactly what we did.

I hadn't meant for everyone to find out like that, but it ended up being the happiest moment in my life so far.

The memory faded as the tightening intensified. It felt like a weight pressing on me, like I wasn't going to be able to relax until I knew that Diana was safe. If anything happened to her, I wasn't sure what the hell I would do. She'd been doing so much better and she'd been absolutely over the moon upon learning she was going to be a grandmother. She'd nearly screamed out joyfully when we told her the news. She'd insisted that Spencer and I take turns reading to the baby every day and when Spencer was away, she took his place, picking up wherever he left off while I rested. Diana was genuinely wonderful and I was not violent by nature but I would go absolutely feral on anyone who hurt her, even in my current condition.

I tried to keep distracting myself with thoughts of Spencer and eventually began to doze off.

SPENCER POV:

I realized who the girl was as soon as she left the visiting room with my mother. I contacted the team as soon as possible to let them know, unable to keep from panicking.

Convincing them to believe me and the wait for news was excruciating but that was nothing compared to what I felt when Emily visited to update me on everything.

As soon as she walked in the room, I could see that something was very wrong, aside from Lindsey taking my mom. I think subconsciously I already knew what it was when I first saw Lindsey, but I couldn't bear to let myself even consider it.

"We found your caregiver dead in a house just a few houses down from yours. Ballistics came back and turns out Lindsey used her father's gun. We don't know whether it was to prove a point or something else, but the reasons are unimportant." Emily began, urging me to sit. I politely refused and she continued, "The point is that you were right, Reid. You were right and I didn't believe you. I'm so sorry."

"She's a daddy's girl. She can't help but use his gun," I mused out loud, going over the memories of her case in my mind.

"Good. That's good. That helps," Emily said, but there was something about her voice that alerted me.

I sat there across the table, shaking at this point, but I made myself look at her. "There's something else you're not telling me, isn't there?"

Emily looked down, hesitating for a second before answering.

"It's Y/N," she finally said, holding back tears,"Lindsey took her too."

My heart stopped. I heard Emily shout my name but couldn't focus on her at all. I couldn't think. I couldn't even pull oxygen into my lungs.

This was not happening.

This could not be happening.

Not my wife... not our baby...

I felt a hand on my arm. I shoved it off of me.

"You have to find them, Emily. Promise me you'll find my mom and Y/N." I begged, desperately.

"I promise you, Reid. We will find them," Emily assured me. "Right now you just have to find a way to isolate yourself."

I stormed toward the door and had the guard take me back to my cell.

I ended up having to make it look like Shaw stabbed me with a shiv to get put in solitary confinement. I couldn't handle anything else happening and I had to least try and stay safe on the off chance I got to get out and search for my wife and mom. Not that I had any hope that I would get out at this point in time, but I trusted my team with everything and I knew they would not rest till they found my family.

Sometime later, I found myself being brought out of isolation without any warning and I was terrified that Shaw had conjured up his own way to get to me. The guard left me in a room alone and I tried to remain calm, bracing myself for what was to come.

I was not prepared for my best friend to walk through the door.

"We're taking you home," JJ choked out as her eyes watered.

I let out a breath I didn't know I had been holding as I pulled her into a tight hug. After a minute, she led me out the door and took me back to the BAU.

The sense of ease at seeing my work family again, especially the radiant embodiment of sunshine that was Penelope Garcia, was brief. It was soon overshadowed by unbridled rage when we discovered that Cat Adams was the true mastermind behind all of this.

She had Lindsey frame me for murder.

She had me put in prison.

She risked my sobriety by drugging me.

She had Lindsey kidnap my family.

Now, she was demanding to speak to me by using them as leverage.

Of course she wanted to play a game just like we did before when I arrested her, using my watch as the timer. She was angry that I'd outsmarted her so she wanted to break me. I was not about to let her have even a sliver of satisfaction.

She almost succeeded, however, when she revealed she was pregnant with my child.

Almost.

Apparently she'd told Lindsey to pretend to be Y/N after she dosed me with drugs so she could collect a sample from me down in Mexico. I knew it should not be possible, but I had been drugged and my memories of that day were still very hazy so I couldn't be sure.

"That's right, Y/N's not the only one carrying a baby protegé," Cat said in almost a sing song voice as I rushed out of the room. "I was thinking, if it's a boy, Spencie Junior. Or if it's a girl, Y/N. You know, since she played a part in her own conception."

JJ was waiting outside with Cat's file, hesitantly holding it up. I barely heard the words she said as I read it, then threw it against the wall once I saw the confirmation of pregnancy.

"Sorry," I said gently, upon noticing I had scared JJ. I ran my fingers through my hair. "I just...just need a minute."

JJ just nodded in understanding.

Some time later, the team discovered that Cat was lying about the child being mine and we eventually got her to call her cohort for proof of life.

My heart swelled when I heard the love of my life's voice on the other end of the phone.

"Yeah we're okay, I think," she answered softly. Dread filled me at her next words. "But Spencer they have Mom. I don't know where, she's not with me but-

She'd conferenced in the call for my mom too and their voices made me hopeful for a second before both calls were cut off with explosions.

I forced the metal table out of my way before shoving Cat against the wall by her throat.

"I'm gonna kill you," I hissed, enraged once more. "I'm gonna kill you."

I kept repeating that until JJ pried me off of Cat, reminding me over and over that she was pregnant.

I stormed out again with JJ hot on my heels. I didn't have time to break down before the team told us that there was a call in about an amber alert Emily put out for Lindsey. Two vehicles at the scene were blown up but the only victim inside was male.

I felt bad for the man who was killed, but this meant there was hope again.

JJ and I talked some things through and pieced together what Cat really wanted me to say. While I told Cat what she wanted to hear, the team discovered the prison guard who had actually been the one to impregnate Cat and found two properties he owned.

I won the game by telling Cat that I could have done several different things to get out of the situation with Shaw and his men but I chose the one that would cause the most pain. In the process, Lindsey overheard us on Emily's tablet which had been connected to the visiting room cameras, realizing Cat betrayed her and therefore giving up.

As I was heading out, Cat piped up again. "How are you going to be a father now that you've proven you enjoyed hurting those men in prison? I mean, because once you've crossed that line, you can never go back."

In a split second I was on my knees in front of her, yanking my watch off of her wrist.

"Watch me," I retorted before walking out.

The team found my mom first and they let me see her briefly, then they took her to the hospital to make sure she was okay. We went to a secondary location we'd discovered which was where they were holding Y/N. I wasn't technically supposed to go because I was not reinstated yet but I couldn't think clearly enough to obey that rule when my girl and my unborn child were in danger.

Luckily, JJ was a parent and knew me too well so she had my back. Rossi also understood and had a helicopter standing by. We managed to make it there in time for the team to breech the house and I rushed in along side them without thinking.

That's when my whole life changed.

Y/N P.O.V.

My captors brought me to a house and left me in a room on the floor. I was alone for awhile and attempted to move to relieve the tight cramping sensation, which had gotten so much worse. I tried to conceal my pain from the man who was walking around the house setting stuff up and attaching rectangle shaped objects to the walls.

I was horrified when I saw that they were C4 charges. The resulting panic ran concurrent with another very intense tightening sensation, followed by what felt like a toilet flushing inside me and then a few minutes later, warm liquid spilled out between my legs.

All at once, the realization hit. The pains I'd been feeling all day were contractions and the liquid was my water breaking.

I was in labor. I had been kidnapped, was about to be blown up and I was in fucking labor.

I wasn't even due for another few weeks so this shouldn't be happening yet. I mean, I knew from the books Spencer and I read that babies rarely came on their actual due dates, but I was still incredibly frightened.

I wept quietly. Three or four more excruciating contractions ripped through me much more quickly before I was distracted by the doors being busted open.

I almost didn't even notice Tara knocking out the unsub or the others disarming the bombs because all I could focus on was the beautiful face of my sweet Spencer as he rushed over to me.

He hijacked Luke's pocket knife from his belt, swiftly slicing through the ropes before wrapping his arms around me.

"Spence," I sobbed hysterically into his shoulder.

"I'm here, love. It's okay," he murmured into my hair, kissing the side of my head.

"How are you here?" I asked, almost unable to conceive that he was really in front of me.

"I'll explain later. Right now we have to get you out of here," He answered, reaching to help me up.

"Wait, is Mom-" I started to say, but he was way ahead of me.

"Mom is fine, Emily and Luke got her back." he responded, relief in his voice.

"Oh, thank God. I-oh!" I grimaced, grabbing my belly.

"What's wrong?" Spencer asked, his face instantly distressed.

"The baby is coming," I managed to say through gritted teeth. "Like, right now."

"What?!"He nearly shouted. He located and motioned to the paramedics that had followed him in. "She's in labor. We need to get her to the hospital immediately!"

The EMTs rushed over to us.

"Ma'am how far apart are your contractions?" one of the paramedics asked as he opened his bag, applied a blood pressure cuff to my arm and took my vitals. Another EMT started setting up a stretcher for me.

I gripped my husband's bicep for dear life as I felt another contraction after a little bit. He winced in pain but he supported me through it.

"I don't know, but close enough to know we ain't making it to the hospital," I groaned, leaning against him once it passed.

"Damn it, you're right. That last one was 2 minutes and 48 seconds from the one you had when I got here. How are you in active labor so quickly? The books said the first child usually takes the longest and it could be hours if not days before the baby is born," Spencer rambled anxiously.

"Um, pretty sure I've been having contractions since they took us," I told him,"How long has it been since then?"

He gaped at me,"It's about 1:30am. It's been approximately 17 hours. God, I'm so sorry, Y/N. This is not how this was supposed to happen. It's 3 weeks early and you're under too much stress-"

"It's okay, Spence. We're okay," I reassured him, grabbing my belly as another pain shot through me. "Oohh nope we're not!"

Spencer looked so freaked out which was sort of scaring me.

The EMT seemed to notice and stopped what he was doing,"Hey, it's going to be okay, guys. Her vitals and everything look good and babies are delivered a few weeks premature all the time and are in perfect health. We'll take good care of you all, I promise."

It seemed to work. Spencer relaxed a little bit and switched into doctor mode, holding my hands.

"You're alright, just remember the birthing classes. Breathe with me like this, okay?" He instructed in a gentle voice, demonstrating what the lamaze teacher taught us. I did what he said as best as I could.

The team, who was still standing there awkwardly, left when Spencer and the paramedic started to remove my short bottoms and slid a large pad thing underneath me. JJ said they would meet us at the hospital since they needed to check on Diana anyway. At some point in the process Spencer slipped behind me, sitting with his legs on either side of me and his arms under mine, probably without thinking about it. We sat like this a lot in the classes and also at home because he'd read that sitting like this while carefully lifting my belly provided some much needed relief from it weighing down on me.

"Looks like you're fully dialated. It's time for you to push," the paramedic said, after he checked me. "Uh, what are you doing?"

"I need," I grunted, shifting back against Spencer, who as quick to assist,"I need to be up..."

"What?" the medic asked, confused.

"Statistically, it's much more beneficial and effective to give birth in an upright position such as squatting or kneeling on all fours," Spencer prattled off facts as he lifted me so I was sitting up against his chest. He kept his arms underneath mine and entwined our fingers so I could squeeze his hands whenever I needed to."In fact, up until the 1700's, women were even known to give birth standing up. It allows the pelvic bones to open up for the child to pass through more easily and gravity helps the process move faster."

The medic gave him the look everyone gives him when he spouts facts and I supressed a giggle.

"Are you a doctor?" he asked my husband, incredulously.

"I have 3 phD's so technically yes-oh owww,"Spencer's sentence was interrupted by me squeezing the life out of his hands as another one hit.

The medic gave him a 'wow' look and then focused on me again,"Okay, anyway I'm gonna have you push through this contraction. Are you ready?"

I nodded and inhaled deeply, pushing on his cue. He counted down and told me to stop. I exhaled harshly and rested for a second before I was told to do it again. We repeated this a few times, Spencer lovingly encouraging me through it. The medic also reassured me that I was doing great, even though I was exhausted and didn't feel like I was doing well.

Sooner than expected, a tiny wail filled the room, changing everything and stirring an indescribable feeling inside me.

"It's a girl!" The paramedic announced, cleaning her, wrapping her in the blue towel things they use and placing her in my arms.

"Oh my gosh" I gasped as I stroked her small head, in hysterical tears at this point. "Hello my little love...oh Spence, look at her..."

Spencer, gaping at her in awe, managed to speak, "H-hi princess, I'm your dad...wow you're so beautiful...you look just like your mommy."

He wasn't wrong. She had his round, hazel eyes, but most of her facial features and her hair color were the same as mine. I smiled warmly down at her through my tears.

I was going to throw back a smart remark but it was forgotten as more tightening and the need to push again overtook me. "Something else is coming out what the-?"

"It's probably the placenta needing to be delivered," Spencer said, without taking his eyes off of our daughter.

"I don't think so," The medic said, reaching his hands out as I instinctively pushed some more.

Just when I thought I could not exert myself anymore, whatever it was came out and the medic grinned, holding it up. "Does that look like a placenta to you, Doctor?"

Our eyes just about popped out of our heads at the sight of the tiny wriggling form.

Another baby??!!

"I-No but- that's impossible," Spencer stuttered, in shock. I mirrored his expression completely.

"You didn't know?" The medic looked confused as he grabbed another towel thing.

"No, the ultrasounds only showed one baby," I said, in disbelief.

"This is a surprise then!" the medic chuckled. "Well congratulations Mom and Dad, it's a boy!"

He placed the baby in my other arm and reminded Spencer, who was still completely astounded, to cut the umbilical cords.

"We have twins?" Spencer whispered increduously, staring at the two small bundles wiggling against my chest.

"We have twins," I repeated, gazing back and forth between my babies and my husband, dumbfounded, "I can't believe it."

The second baby looked exactly like his father. The same brown curls, the same nose, lips, eyes, everything. He was perfect. Both our children were. I'd never felt so much love and joy in my life and I could tell Spencer hadn't either.

"Hi, sweet boy, we were not expecting you, but we are so happy that you're here," I cooed at my son.

"Yes we are. We love you so much, little buddy," Spencer agreed, resting his head on my shoulder as he brushed the boy's cheek lightly with his thumb.

I turned my head to face him and he pressed his lips to mine, murmuring. "I love you and I'm so proud of you."

"I love you too," I murmured back, feeling the warm wetness on my cheeks return as I pressed my forehead to his.

"Congratulations, again. They're adorable," The medic said, warmly as he cleaned everything up.

"Thank you," We answered simultaneously, smiling widely.

When the EMT was done, Spencer moved out from behind me and took the babies so the medics could lift me onto the stretcher. They put a warm blanket over me and then Spencer handed me one of the babies, still wanting to hold one.

Once we got to the hospital, Spencer went with the nurses who took the babies to get checked out. I was taken by other nurses who set me up in a room and made sure I was okay. While he was gone I asked one of my nurses to bring Diana and our friends up to my room.

Diana was a little confused for a minute when she saw me, but luckily her son walked in with a rolling bassinet at just the right moment, parking it next to my bed.

"Spencer's here," I told her softly.

She looked up at him and after a second she rushed into his arms and he embraced her happily, crying.

"Hi, Mom," he murmured.

She pulled back and took his face into her hands. "Don't you ever leave me again."

"I won't," He told her, pulling her back in for a hug. "I love you."

She said it back and after a bit, he was the one to pull back.

"Mom, I have a surprise for you. For all of you, actually," He said, looking at our friends. He smiled as he handed me one baby and then picked up the other and turned to face the group.

Everyone gasped or looked at us wide eyed.

There was a chorus of attempted quiet reactions from the team while Diana moed closer to us, some recognition beginning to spark in her eyes. I could see Garcia using every ounce of her strength not to freak out and accidentally scare her.

"Am I a grandma?" She asked, tentativel.

"Yeah, you are," Spencer answered, warmly.

Diana looked back and forth between us, confused. "But I thought there was only one?"

Spencer chuckled, gesturing to the blue bundle in his arms. "Yeah, we thought so too, until this little guy showed up unannounced."

"He's shocking people just like his father already," She grinned, earning a light laugh from all of us. "Well, do they have names yet?"

"Well, we have a girl name since we knew we were having a daughter, but we are still trying to figure out a boy name since he was a surprise," I answered.

"What's the girl's name?" she asked, sitting on the bed next to me. Spencer sat on my other side.

"Say hello to Amelia Diana Reid," We told her happily as I shifted the pink blanket away from our daughter's face so she could see better.

She gasped again and looked back and forth between Spencer and I in shock once more before smiling and gently hugging us. Awwww's filled the room at the scene.

"The middle name obviously needs no explanation, but the meaning behind the first name is something we want to share. Neither of us had good fathers and I don't have a good mother. So Amelia is the closest thing we could think of as a kind of combination of Aaron and Emily, our work mom and dad,"I explained, smiling adoringly at Emily.

She came over and embraced us carefully. "Thank you. I wish Hotch were here. I think you two are the only ones beside Jack that can get him to smile, and this would definitely turn that stoic frown upside down."

We giggled and so did several of our team members.

I helped Diana hold Amelia for a little bit, and then our son in turn until she started to be less lucid and wanted to rest. Emily had arranged for her to sleep and be cared for in a room close by ours so she could be near us. JJ took her to that room with a nurse and the others left our room for a little while so I could feed the twins. We were burping and changing them when everyone came back.

As soon as she was able to, Penelope pretty much exploded, accidentally interrupting Spencer as he was trying to tell me something. "Oh my gosh TWINS? Two baby geniuses for the price of one! This is the best news ever and I am going to buy tons of stuff for baby boy since you're gonna need double the baby supplies and you only have girl stuff right now and I am going to love them and hug them and be there for them and teach them lots of cool things and-"

"Garcia, breathe," Rossi said, patting her on the back as we all giggled. He turned to us, "Congratulations, both of you."

"Oh they're so precious, guys!"JJ cooed, coming over for a closer look. She was very careful as she hugged us,"You know, anything you need, I'm here for you. Okay?"

"Yeah same, we got you," Luke agreed.

"Well done, Dr. and Mrs, Reid," Tara said in admiration.

"Thanks everyone," we responded happily.

"You did good, mama. The babies are beautiful," Morgan said, leaning down and kissing me on the head as he touched Amelia's hand with his pinky finger. He smiled over at Spencer, "You too, kid. Gideon would be proud of you, you know."

The look on Spencer's face brought me to tears. I'd only been on the team a short time before Gideon left, but I did get to briefly experience the kind, caring, brilliant man he was, who loved Spencer like his own son and knew him better than he knew himself. He even knew the second Spencer and I met that we were falling for each other because he would pair us up a lot and whenever we were together or he caught us looking at one another, he got a look on his face like he was seeing something we were not. He later told Spencer this in his letter and told him to hold on to me and to not let the job get in the way of us. He said to find solace in each other and remind each other of the good things in the world when we were bogged down by all the bad things we saw at work.

This was what finally gave Spencer the courage to ask me out and thank God for that because I was going out of my mind over him by that point and I was so close to just giving up entirely.

Suffice it to say, that man meant the whole world to Spencer and by extention, to me as well. His loss had been beyond devastating for us and I had since been looking for a way to honor his memory....

I looked at my husband, "Hey love, what were you saying before Garcia's outburst?"

"Hmm?" He mumbled, having been pulled out of whatever thought process he was in, "Oh, I was saying I have an idea for our son's name..."

"Oh? What is it?" I asked, curiously.

"I noticed that the medic who delivered the twins had a nametag that said Elliot and I really liked it because it makes me think of the author T.S. Eliot, but also because it reminds me of my friend Elle who used to work with us and who I miss very much. So I was thinking we could name him Elliot, if you're okay with it, of course," He whispered, rambling a bit excitedly.

I knew who Elle was. He and some of the others had talked about her a lot and she seemed like a good person who had just been through a lot. She was like an older sister to Spencer and the name was really cute and meaningful so I was sold.

"I love it...and I have a suggestion for his middle name," I told him, eagerly.

"What?" he asked.

"Gideon," I whispered back, tentatively.

He stared at me for a second with his huge puppy eyes, looking like he was about to cry. He nodded fervently, his eyes moving to his tiny carbon copy sleeping in his arms. He'd barely taken his eyes off the twins since they'd been born and watching him become so  enamored by them made me fall even more in love with him.

"Hey guys, we came up with a name for our son," He said out loud, grabbing everyone's attention as he lifted one of the baby's hands, waving it. "I'd like you all to meet Elliot Gideon Reid."

Tara and Luke only partially connected the dots, since they only knew stories of Gideon and Morgan had just mentioned him.

The rest of the team, however, got both names immediately and there was not a dry eye amongst them. More hugs happened and then everyone took their turns holding the twins and talking with us for awhile until they saw us having trouble staying awake. They handed the babies back and quietly made their way out, one by one.

We put the twins in their bassinet and Spencer curled up next to me while we stared at them.

"Welcome to the world, Amelia and Elliot," we whispered. "We love you."

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

EPILOGUE(Spencer POV):

I was reinstated to the FBI, after some substantial time off to be with my wife and new babies, with mandatory sabbaticals every so often. I did my best to balance work and home, actually electing to stay behind with Garcia sometimes so I could be close to home. A few years later, we had another set of twins, this time both showing up on the sonograms. They were a boy and girl again, and we named them Lilliana Jennifer Reid and Theodore Morgan Reid(Lilly and Theo for short).

Then, another year and a half later, we got pregnant with our last child, a complete surprise since we were told we could not have any more. We named her Davina Penelope Reid, Davina being the closest female name to David(for Rossi).

After that, we were done and our family was complete. Of course, the team adored them and spoiled them rotten. We also realized not long after Amelia and Elliot were born that my mom would be much better cared for in a facility, which was very difficult for me to come to terms with. Fortunately, we found an amazing facility nearby. She's actually thriving there and she loves her grandbabies so much. We bring them to visit her or bring her home sometimes. She often reads to them or teaches them about literature and history the way she taught me.

Life is good. And I am thankful for every day with my gorgeous wife, my five wonderful children, my awesome friends and of course, my mother.

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

[mama-qwerty]

Thinking about Dread again.

Was going through my saved images and came across these, from the third season.

My deranged beloved has become a sad little meow meow.

So pensive. So frustrated. So defeated.

(My favorite image of him in this scene. I love that pose, it's so natural and conveys so much about his mental and emotional state.)

I still think the way they handled his 'redemption' completely missed the mark, and could have been done much better had they planted a few seeds to begin with. But the pacing of the whole series felt so odd, and I wonder if they had something different planned before Netflix (possibly) cut their time shorter.

(For the record, I think that's part of the problem with the Knuckles series. It felt like there should have been more in that, but Paramount told them they only had 6 eps to do what they wanted in 12.)

But Dread? My beloved little gremlin of a pirate? Oh, he had so much potential. He could have been this wild card, this character who continued to be him despite everything, who was so anti-Knuckles it was entertaining and fun and just a joy to watch him have so much fun being a bastard.

I get that they couldn't keep a Knuckles as an absolute asshole, but watching this delightful character go from this

To this

without seeing anything in between was jarring. The last we saw of Dread before season 3 started was him fighting with Ren as Sonic and Nine took the shards away. He was enraged to have lost his Beauty. Again. We have no idea what happened after that, but this descent into depression seemed sudden and out of character.

But considering how he behaved after his first loss of the shard (when he lost his first ship and crew), maybe this isn't that much of a stretch. He ran before, jumping nose first into denial, and tried to cover his feelings of defeat by being a party pirate. Now his Beauty is lost once again, and he's in a strange city, on another planet (in another universe!) and has made himself at odds with the people there. (With his other him.) He couldn't even contact his crew because he'd turned on them before leaving.

So here's Dread, completely out of his element, the one thing he'd lusted after his entire life gone. It would figure that he'd maybe have a bit of Ren's depressive state, and fall into a "What's the point? What I want always seems to be just out of reach. I'll never have my one true desire." mindset.

And maybe, since the shards were all gone, he's feeling some kind of mental shift. I've theorized that the shard's energy was what made Dread so batshit, and now that it's gone, maybe he's starting to think a little more clearly than he'd ever done before. Instead of that drive to "FIND HAVE KEEP" that gem, he's feeling like a failure for not being able to fulfill that quest. That duty. Because maybe to him, it didn't feel like the normal greed of pirate plunder, the urge to just take and steal and collect as much booty as possible. Maybe to him, because he's a Knuckles and they're hard wired to protect, it was something more personal.

That shard, according to his instincts, was his to protect. And now that it's gone, he's a failure and feels empty. He's coming down off that energy, the inexplicable hold the shard held over him, and is essentially going through a withdrawal of sorts, and dealing with the possibly conflicting emotions it dredged up.

There was so much potential for him. And the writers wasted it, by having him simply join in on the attack on Nine without examining his (very likely) ulterior motives. I don't like that they used that Jack character to draw Dread's selfish desires back out - those should have still been there! The whole agreement to join in should have been a plot to simply get him near his Beauty so he could pull a double cross.

This made it seem like Dread didn't even think about his Beauty during the whole battle. WHAT?? Being near it should have made him almost feral with the want to get to it. I would have loved to have seen him be another obstacle to the shard, so the heroes didn't only have to deal with Nine and his endless army of bots, but also this deranged pirate who was overcome with treasure lust.

Missed opportunity.

Ah well.

Just lookit this handsome bastard.

My beloved. Dread is possibly my absolutely favorite variant of Knuckles. I just love him.