#(((i called the cops dw)))

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

it is a lie.

there is the promise, of course, every single time. that this time it will help, this time you'll be able to quit for good after just - once - more -

and then you look up and realise it's 1am and your hands are covered with blood. you've used up all the tissues and it's still bleeding. of course you grab something and stanch it, it's not going to kill you, but it's sure as hell going to make living unfun.

it's a lie. you can be clinical about it - you can measure depth and size and analyse if this needs medical attention or not. and then once you're absolutely sure it could do with it (curse the moment you figured out the technique that allows you to go deeper), you can ignore it and pretend it's fine.

it's not fine, of course. but even now, there's pain. of course there's pain. it's gaping, you idiot, and if you went to the emergency department they'd suture it just like they would have the previous one you ignored that got infected, but improved before you absolutely had to seek medical attention. they are not going to heal quickly; they're going to look pretty bad even if they manage to heal before you've got to wear short sleeves for placement. never mind the fact that summer's coming on. search up summer cardigans and hope they're not too expensive.

but there's pain. why would you do it? why would you keep chasing the high you will not get from this? why are you still thinking, if I just go fully to the muscle layer now, this will fix everything? it won't. you fool. is it muscle pain you're feeling right now, or nerve? how would you know?

cry about it, you bitch. you did it to yourself. you know, what you really want is someone to hug you real good, someone who knows what you've done and why you did it. but last time you showed someone it made you go deeper because what you showed them wasn't enough. you better hope they don't ask to see how that one's healing, because you can't show them the healing process without showing this newest one they don't know you've got. they said they weren't happy with you keeping the implement you used last time. you said it was a once-off, a mad impulse born of a specific, high stress trigger. you might even have believed it.

why would you do it? why are you going so deep, deep enough that after every action to make it deeper, you do all the basic checks to make sure you haven't permanently damaged something? don't mess around with this. your hands are your livelihood. if you hit a nerve, there ain't no coming back from that. you know what you're doing.

arms are dangerous. surely you knew that was almost the exact place someone you knew went, had to get fourteen stitches emergently because they hit something real bad. if you're tired, get sleep. if you're tired of life, get help. don't destroy yourself like this.

it is a lie. it will not make you feel better. it will simply add to your problems. why don't you care? the promise of relief is a lie. if you're sad about it, if you're crying, then do something. tell someone. reach out, and someone will reach back to you. they want to help. let them help. people want to love you; let them love you.

[augustatheghost]

i don’t know what you guys are all complaining about i love that svu has vaporized olivia from woman on the verge to lady cragen

[wanderingpages]

Yall my neighbor five floors up just rung down my doorbell all battered up and told me her son tried to kill her

[theladygazingatemptiness]

q.... how does one go about informing/reaching out to people about having suicidal thoughts

[syoish-aot]

When the "fiction =/= reality" really sets in....

[thenotoriousscuttlecliff]

"...there will be displaced creatures who need a home. Somewhere to take over." 

You know something was seriously wrong with the show when the Doctor started talking like Suella Braverman.

What the fuck was this, Chibnall?

[whoreishghost]

my favourite thing to do when i should be like idk cleanign my flat for ciel phantomhives bday or smthn is sitting on hold waiting for some branch of a gov agency to pick up the phone girlie it is 14.26 on a thursday i have been waiting almost An Hour how many people are calling???? why not employ more people if it really is that many????

[everythingne]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ➛ one and two - chapter one (ls2)

Your father, the President of The United States, has decided the only way to keep you ‘tame’ is up have you married off… to a Formula One driver..?

logan sargeant x first daughter!reader, smau and short fic // fc: yasmin barbieri

tws: arranged marriage,

previous / next

yn.fdotus

liked by logansargeant, luis.fsotus, flotus, and 749k others...

yn.fdotus: taking a break from washington to see my collab with @ amaricarter at @ nyfw !!! aaaa!! geeking out a lil bit <3 all my hard work has finally paid off friends... many tears were shed xx

flotus: so so proud of my little girl!! cannot believe the woman you've grown into <3

user1: yn slaying in and outside of dc fr fr

user2: YESSS SLAY YN!!!

luis.fsotus: no pic credit :(?

⤷ yn.fdotus: this is for eating my panera >:(

⤷ panerabread: girlie dw we can hook u up with more <3

⤷ yn.fdotus: i love u panera <3<3

potus: so proud of you my little star!

user3: not her acc getting recommended to me bc logan sargeant follows her omg.

⤷ user2: no sameeee but i loveeee yn

user5: non-american f1 fans who love yn like this comment actually?

liked by 856 others...

user4: THATS MY FIRST DAUGHTER!!

“This is so stupid.” you grumble a complaint into the air, looking over at your mother as she laughs from where she sits in the William’s VIP room with your father and older brother-- both Santino Colombo, your father going by Santino and your brother going by Santi.

“He’s a nice young man!” Santino defends his actions as if he isn’t asking you to do the stupidest thing you’ve ever done. You have to pretend this guy who you have never met before is your boyfriend. Now, okay, you knew a bit about Logan because you’d been a fan of his for years because of your father’s love of Formula drivers, and Logan was the only American to get points in like… twenty years. You and Logan had followed each other on socials long ago when this first 'arranged marriage' thing was brought up. You'd spoken occasionally since, but nothing too serious. A flirt here or there, a joke, then mostly just formalities.

It wasn't that you didn't like Logan, he was a fine guy and easy on the eyes but it just felt... weird, to be forced into this.

With you being the more rebellious of the two of his kids, you had to be ‘locked up.’ Which was so stupid, your twenty six year old brother was a big party boy in college. Your father having paid off so many people to be hush about his drunken idiocy. But now he was already on his way to becoming a law firm CEO with a pretty wife and two daughters and you were a little fashion student who just had her first ever big break, never having done hard drugs or got the cops called on you like dear old Santi.

But you were a girl, something to be protected, and big breaks meant it was time for you to settle in the eyes of America’s leader.

And thus, your father got in contact with the Sargeants through Dalton somehow during your fathers candidacy. And now a year and two months later you were expected to be visiting your ‘secret boyfriend of two years.’

“He’s a wonderful guy,” Santino huffs at your obvious distaste, “I wouldn’t have agreed to this if I thought he was going to be bad for you, you know.”

“You didn’t even ask me! What if I had a boyfriend!”

“You didn’t.” Santi says after a sip of his champagne, “and, if you did, Dad would’ve just had you marry the guy you were dating.”

“If he passed the dad test.” you complain, making your brother laugh while your father just rolls his eyes. You don’t have time to say anything else because he’s standing up to greet James Vowles, the team principal of Williams, and you follow suit.

"So this is the woman Logan's been keeping a secret?" James grins and you realize, yeah, okay now it's time to act.

"Sorry he kept you in the dark for so long, Mr. Vowles!" You smile, glancing over James' shoulder as you speak to see who can only be Logan approaching, "Logan does speak very highly of you."

"As he does you." James nods, stepping back to allow you to happily pull Logan in for a hug. None of this is rehearsed. None of this is planned. Logan's arms slot naturally around yours life he was sculpted from the same marble, and your head fits perfectly under his chin. When you both step back, you let out of a soft giggle with flushed cheeks and try to not see the obvious overjoyed expression on your fathers face.

yn.fdotus added to their story!

Logan's drivers room is neat, tidy, but small. He lets you take up the somewhat comfy couch while he pulls his fireproof over his head with his back to you. You both have sat in silence for the past five minutes, your parents whisking you off to the 'comfort' of Logan's room so you both could bond.

"So." Logan turns around once he's fully changed into his racing gear, and you try your hardest to make sure your eyes don't wander because god damnit did those fireproofs have to be so tight?

"So?" You echo with a tad more curiosity in your tone and Logan pops down next to you.

"I was told we need to have a consistent story to not get caught." His eyes meet yours breifly before he's looking away, almost bashfully as his hand comes to toy with his hair, "but I have no idea what that should be."

"You were born in Fort Lauderdale, right?" You ask, and when Logan nods you grin, "Alright, here it is, we were neighbors growing up. Your brother and my brother were really good friends, since I think they're the same age? We tagged along with the older brothers. When you moved we lost contact, but, when you started racing in Formula I got in contact with you via Instagram and the rest is history."

"Childhood best friends seems American enough," Logan grins and a laugh barks out of you that you aren't expecting. A smile pokes at his face and he looks away, almost like he's shy about making you laugh, which is only solidified by the blush you notice on his cheeks.

"Alrighty then, childhood best friend." You tap his thigh with your heel from where your legs are crossed, eyes peeking up as someone knocks on the door.

"Come in," Logan calls, his hand going to rest on your knee before none other than Alex Albon pops open the door with a very curious Lily behind him.

"Oh! Good." Alex steps in, letting Lily in before the door clicks shut. You can see Logan send Alex a confused look before the Thai driver opens his mouth and just says whatever comes to mind.

Which is, "How the fuck did you rizz her?"

"Alex!" Lily whacks her boyfriends arm and you can't help but burst into laughter, hiding your face in Logan's shoulder as you do. You miss whatever defense Logan throws at Alex because of the feeling of Logan pulling you closer by your thigh. It shocks you how much his touch feels like fire against your skin.

"All her," is what Logan says when he turns to you and the smile that crosses your face is natural as you shrug. Lily comes over to introduce herself, leaving Logan and Alex to bicker as she pulls you into a carefully coordinated hug.

"It's so nice to have another girl in the Williams garage." She says as she steps back, and you stand to continue the conversation a bit further away from whatever argument Alex has undoubtedly pulled Logan into now. Logan's hand squeezes your wrist when you walk away, a small fleeting touch, and it makes your cheeks red.

Shit. Why was he making you so flustered?

yn.fdotus

liked by alexalbon, logansargeant, oscarpiastri, and 787k others...

yn.fdotus: hot girls ditch f1 for affogato 🩵

tagged: lilymhe

lilymhe: @ logansargeant can u fight.

⤷ logansargeant: i think alex would kill me if i even breathed wrong next to you, so no.

⤷ alexalbon: i would. i would.

user1: NO FUCKING WAY??

lilymhe: LOML !!!! <3<3<3

⤷ yn.fdotus: UGH I WOULD DIE FOR U STOP <3

⤷ user2: LILY AND YN!!!!! A DUO!!! (yn design something for lily)

liked by yn.fdotus

-

"Are we like soft launching it?" You ask Logan as you wait for him to be called out to race, he's been fiddling with his sleeve for the past five minutes in agonizing silence. So you try and get his mind off the upcoming race.

"What?"

"Us, are we just gonna like... kiss after the race and be caught by cameras? Or try and like... be sneaky with it? Like pretending we're hiding from cameras but letting them catch us and whatnot."

Logan blinks, his hand falling from fiddling with his sleeve to his lap where you've laid your legs over. ("So you can get used to how close we have to be for media," Logan had suggested.) His hand comes to rub small circles just above your knee as you lean back against the back of the couch.

"I... is there one you prefer?" He asks, pulling out his phone to do what looks like texting someone back, "I can do either, I just don't wanna make you uncomfortable."

"I think teasing it would be really cute," you smile and he nods, asking for you to explain, so you burst into a long list of ideas. Fleeting touches, hugs that last just a bit too long to be platonic, pictures of gifted bouquets and hidden faces for 'date nights' and early mornings. He smiles at you enthusiasm as you explain every little minute detail, and then he just takes one of your hands in his and presses a kiss to the back of it.

"Just tell me when, and I'm yours." He whispers, and you try to ignore the obvious affection in his eyes that has your cheeks warming up.

yn.fdotus added to their story!

Logan scores points. You're not even sure what place he ends up in, but you just know he scores points by the way Williams is cheering. You can even hear Logan laughing over his radio and your heart is in your throat as you join Lily in jumping up and down in excitement. Both Alex and Logan has gotten points, for the first time this season.

Your feet carry you, Lily pulling you along, your family laughing as you're brought to the garage and away from them. She detaches when Alex is out of his car, happily extending an arm for Lily to attach to his side as he holds his helmet in the other.

You, however, stop dead in your tracks.

Logan's tugging off his balaclava with the biggest smile on his face. The crows feet of his eyes tight with the smile that pulls them in, same with the way his cheeks puff out in happiness. You can't help but feel a blush on your face at the sight of him, sweaty, and yet with that amazing post-race glow your sister had joked about.

Holy shit, it really was a thing.

You feel cameras on you as you slowly make your way over, finding your footing like a fawn until Logan spots you and-- if possible, his grin grows even wider. You smile, quickening your steps until your pressed firm against his chest. His broad shoulder blocking the light as his arms encircle you, protecting you from the world as he dips his lips down to whisper.

"You can't look at me like that if we're soft-launching." He laughs and you follow suit, arms tight around his waist as you quickly reply,

"I'm just so proud of you, you drove really well today."

His arms tighten a bit more and you assume this is the whole, hugs that are a bit more than platonic bit. When you step back, he keeps his eyes on you and one hand on your back as Alex comes over to celebrate with him.

Later that night, a text lights up your phone,

'if you want a full miami day, tomorrow ill pick you up around nine?"

And the giggles that leave you are genuine as you throw yourself out of bed to pick out some clothes for the list of activities that Logan has planned.

yn.fdotus added to their story!

tag list (comment to be added, and thanks for those who are already on it !)

@hiireadstuff @tigerlily789 @minkyungseokie @woozarts @motheraiya @uzisplanet @struggling-with-delia

[malicenthightower]

for some reason i never followed this up but this took all of two weeks to become true lmao

chibnall’s improvements in diversity behind and in front of the camera vs. his obsessive valorisation of hero cop narratives

[canmom]

there's something fascinatingly awkward about how 1800s era stories seem to be structured.

i read a detective story on that site. it opens with a frame story: a merchant and his daughter are waiting for his underling to come back with a lot of money. he's late. in a modern story you would expect this to be a setup: the underling is probably dead, or in trouble, or he's lost the money, which is the call to action for the rest of the plot.

the guy shows up and he's got the money. 'but i almost didn't' he says, and then tells a flashback story about how he met this kinda sus guy at the bank and then played billiards with him while waiting for the next train, and he thinks the guy is following him, so he talks to a detective; the detective is like yeah that guy is definitely following you but dw bro I'll deal with it; the guy gets on the train and billiards man is there and looking particularly "asiatic" to boot; billiards man does indeed try to rob him but the detective is there in disguise and saves our protagonist. don't play billiards, kids!

only we know from the very beginning that the guy is fine and so is the money so there's zero tension. why write a story like this? there's nothing there. even the supposed anti-billiards message does not follow since the billiards game is incidental. the guy we're told is sus is in fact sus. the detective who said he'd help does in fact help. the detective genre is supposed to revolve around mysteries but... there is no mystery. the guy gets with the girl but we barely see them so much as interact. it's not even a power fantasy because all he does is talk to a cop. totally inert story.

which makes me think like, would you find a story that's bad in this particular way today? there are plenty of bad stories these days but the narrative gestures they make are different. i think it's rarer to come across a piece of fiction and wonder why they even bothered to write it since there just isn't a story there.

[juyeonszn]

CLUMSY

PAIRING ju haknyeon x f!reader

WORD COUNT 6.03k

GENRES smut ﹒fluff

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, reader and juhak are bio lab partners, juhak is lowkey a bit of a loser BUT DW HE REDEEMS HIMSELF, mentions of alcohol, a game of rage cage…, he’s down insanely bad, the flirting goes kinda crazy, someone calls the cops, they run from said cops, reader is Nawt wasting any time, pet names (juhak calls reader princess), tbh they’re both switches in some ways, kitchen sex, oral sex (f!receiving), fingering, edging, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, creampie lol

SUMMARY when haknyeon ran into you at a tbz party for the first time, he didn’t think he would fall for you so quickly. or literally. or both simultaneously. but there’s a first time for everything, he supposes.

MORE andddddd here we go 🫡 second fic of the black out or back out collab 🙏 i forgot to link the masterlist in the last one so im gonna link it in this one in case u wanna read any of the others!! ANYWAY i had such a fun time writing this one, any excuse i get to write for juhak, i will take trust <3 if u enjoyed, don’t forget to reblog! and pls check out the other fics so far!!

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri @deoboyznet @cloverdaisies @vernyangel

TAGLIST @millksea

SERIES MASTERLIST

Okay. So maybe trying to secure a girlfriend at a party wasn’t exactly Haknyeon’s best idea.

But, hey. You had to give him some credit. At least he was making an attempt. Most of his other frat brothers weren’t even making an effort. They seemed perfectly satisfied with charming their ways into random girls’ pants every weekend. Unfortunately, or fortunately considering he was a gentleman, Haknyeon wasn’t into that sort of thing.

It was just a little embarrassing that Kim Sunwoo’s love life had more progress than his own. Sunwoo was literally the resident loser bitch boy of the TBZ house. How was he closer to getting a girlfriend than he was? It made absolutely no sense.

Ju Haknyeon thought of himself as a catch. He was pretty neat, his room was cleaner than most guys’ his age. He knew how to cook basic meals, again, more than the average college sophomore. His car wasn’t on its last leg. (Cough cough… Kim Sunwoo, I’m looking at you.) He was a decent dude. He supported women’s rights and wrongs!

Apparently that was not enough these days.

“…And I need you to make sure the fridge is stocked completely. I’m not trying to drink my coffee without cream tomorrow morning because some idiot drank it while they were drunk.” Sangyeon commands, typing something furiously on his phone as some of the other guys move around the furniture.

“Bruh, I was in charge of buying everything last time. Why can’t someone else do it?” Kevin groans. Something else that wasn’t Haknyeon’s best idea? Walking into the kitchen during this very conversation. “What about JuHak? He looks like he has nothing better to do.”

“Yeah, whatever. That’s fine. Hak, I’m airdropping you the list.” Sangyeon waves his hand in dismissal, returning to his extensive presidential duties.

The sophomore deadpans, but doesn’t have the energy to argue back. You know, the usual fraternity was just a bunch of rich guys with more money than the tuition of each TBZ brother combined. However, the Tau Beta Zeta house was not your usual fraternity. It really was just a bunch of normal dudes thrown together. Though, Lee Sangyeon ran it like it was the fucking Navy.

Haknyeon accepts his defeat and grabs his things, heading out to the supermarket to shop for tonight’s party. Alcohol duty sucked more than door duty, in his opinion. You were sent out all alone, tasked with bringing back enough liquor and beer to last until early hours of the morning. It was a near impossible mission, unless you were Kevin Moon and good at practically everything in the world.

He pushes around the shopping cart mindlessly, though he knows he’ll have to make another trip. A long sigh leaves his lips as he enters the alcohol aisle. He fills the bottom of the cart with different cases of beer until he thinks he may drop one, and then starts to place things in the basket. He feels like a dumbass hauling it over to the registers, like everyone can see right through him.

He has to remind himself that this is for a good cause, that it’ll be worth it when everyone is enjoying themselves at the party. His actions won’t be in vain. Even after the second trip with another cart full of beer and various liquor bottles, Haknyeon keeps repeating affirmations in his head. This has to be the party.

In fact, he thinks his thoughts have manifested into reality when he sees you walking into the grocery store at the same time he’s leaving. You’re his pretty Bio lab partner. He’s always too nervous to hold a substantial conversation with you, so he settles for the bare minimum, which is unfulfilling small talk during your labs. It’s never what he needs though. Aside from your name, Haknyeon knows nothing about you.

“Y/N?” What he wants right now, however, is to shoot himself in the foot for sounding so unsure.

You glance up from your phone, a smile lighting up your face when you recognize him. “Haknyeon! Hey! What’s up?”

“Last minute preparations for the TBZ party tonight,” he gestures at his shopping cart with pursed lips. “You?”

“That’s so funny that you say that! My friends and I are going—“ You eye his cart with confusion. “Wait, I didn’t know you were in Tau Beta Zeta.”

“Yeah…” Haknyeon laughs awkwardly. “Surprise!”

You giggle, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t seem like the frat boy type. Then again, TBZ isn’t your average frat so, I guess that kinda adds up.”

Haknyeon’s not sure if he should take that as a compliment or not, but since it’s coming from you, he decides that he will. The realization that you mentioned you’d be attending the party finally sets in at that same moment. “So, I’ll see you later, then?”

You nod, smile widening. “Yeah, I’m just grabbing a bottle for us to bring with. But I’ll be there. Maybe we’ll bump into each other.”

God, he hopes so. This is the perfect opportunity for him to swoop in and learn everything he’s been dying to know about you. His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek. “I don’t know… I’m a busy man. It might be a little hard.”

That cute little laugh of yours makes another appearance. “I’ll be on the lookout, don’t worry. See you tonight, Haknyeon.”

Ju Haknyeon thinks that he must’ve done something monumental in a past life, like saving a dog from a burning building or stopping a world war. How else would the universe reward him this kindly? All he can do is wave as you maneuver around an elderly couple passing by into the store.

Maybe Kevin Moon wasn’t that bad. And maybe Lee Sangyeon wasn’t as big of a tyrant as he made him out to be. He could actually kiss the ground they walked on for forcing him into alcohol duty. If it weren’t for them, he wouldn’t have ran into you and he wouldn’t have known you were attending the party. Now he has something to look forward to that isn't getting shitfaced.

“What the hell are you wearing?”

Haknyeon looks away from his mirror, Hyunjae standing in the doorway. He has a cringe on his face at the sight of his outfit. It wasn’t the worst thing he’s ever worn, but it was… a bit too much. A black button up and black slacks was admittedly not the best frat party fit. The only good thing he had going for him was his hair that was styled for once, parted so his bangs framed his face nicely.

“This girl I’m kinda into is coming tonight. I need to look irresistible.” The younger explains, arms flailing at his sides.

“Okay, well you won’t accomplish that in this,” Hyunjae snorts, digging through his closet. “If she’s into you too, she won’t care what you’re wearing. Just throw on something you’d normally wear. Like… this! This is nice.”

Hyunjae holds up a black t-shirt and a black-washed denim jacket. Haknyeon hums. It was simple, but also once he put it on he wouldn’t feel like a douchebag, which was the whole goal here. Paired with some khaki cargo pants, he’s found a winner. He begrudgingly thanks his senior for the assistance, shooing him out of his bedroom so he can mentally prepare for the night ahead of him.

He doesn’t even know what to bring up now that he really tosses the idea around in his head. Yeah, he wants to learn more about you and what you’re like outside of your Bio lab, but specifically what he couldn’t say. Haknyeon was starting to feel like a lost cause. He had to clutch up tonight. He had to woo you so much that you had no choice but to fall for his cute face and endearing personality. But how was he meant to do that if he couldn’t even come up with topics to talk with you about?

Maybe he was just thinking too far into things. Perhaps he should just let it all go with the flow. Moving at an au natural pace was probably his best bet in comparison to Sunwoo’s soccer ball plan. (He’s still confused how that worked in his favor.)

Before he knows it, the party is swinging into full effect. This is the first time Haknyeon’s ever been so socially aware of his surroundings. He had a habit of blurring his atmosphere at these things, more interested in getting drunk with his buddies than paying attention to the attendees. As he stands in a corner of the living room, listening to Chanhee complain about treasurer stuff, he watches each and every person who enters the house.

When you finally do walk in, he has to physically stop himself from choking on the beer in his cup, biting the rim of the plastic in a weak attempt to sedate himself. If he thought you were gorgeous before in a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt, he doesn’t know what to call you now. You’re laughing at something one of your friends said, dolled up in a black mini skirt and a black cropped halter top while hugging a bottle of Pink Whitney to your chest. He could probably pass out right here right now.

He almost does, but then Chanhee is slapping his back aggressively. “Wipe the drool off of your chin. God, am I the only one who still has a brain?”

“Shut the fuck up, Chanhee, go cry about your life somewhere else.” Haknyeon dismisses his senior, downing the rest of his drink for some liquid courage. Though he is, he doesn’t want to seem too desperate, so he’s not going up to you this quickly. Instead, he heads into the kitchen to get another drink, rolling his neck like he’s preparing for the biggest win of the century.

It’s as he’s pouring some jungle juice into a fresh cup that you see him. A smile similar to the one from the store graces your features. There was only one person with a back like that, and it was your cute lab partner. You keep an arm wrapped around your bottle, tapping his shoulder lightly. He spins around confusedly, but the expression morphs into pleasant surprise immediately after.

“Pink Whitney? Easy choice,” he points at the bottle in your grasp. “Are you a lightweight, Y/N?”

Your cheeks warm up at the teasing remark. Upon first meeting, Haknyeon’s been an awkward mess around you. You can only assume the confidence stems from the fact that he’s within his element. “That’s for me to know, and you to find out.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were implying that you want me to get you drunk.” He tucks a hand into one of his jacket pockets, the other bringing his cup to his mouth. He’s unconscious of the source of this sudden bravery, but he prays it doesn’t fade off anytime soon.

“Maybe I do…” You bite your lip, undoing the seal of the Pink Whitney bottle to take a sip. It burns your throat slightly. “I’ve never hung out with a frat boy before. I kinda wanna see what the hype is all about.”

Haknyeon thinks he might pass out again, because if he wasn’t so acutely aware of your entire interaction, he would think you’re flirting with him. Friendliness was a double edged sword in this day and age. But who knows, maybe you are flirting. You showed up with your friends but they were nowhere to be found now. He needed to take advantage of the opening.

It’s around this time that Younghoon and Juyeon are bringing out the fated beer pong table, a crowd already beginning to form nearby. He feels sorry for the poor suckers who have to play Changmin and his girlfriend.

“We should play beer pong!” You suggest, watching the pair of taller guys setting up the cups over his shoulder. Haknyeon can sense the color draining from his face. If it had been anyone else, he would’ve shut the idea down insanely fast, but because it was you, he was genuinely contemplating. Those who went up against the infamous TBZ party beer pong champions were in for a rude awakening, but if you wanted to...

“Uh—“ He starts but then he’s interrupted.

“Yo! Who’s down to play Rage Cage?!”

Juyeon’s voice is somehow louder than the music, carrying into the kitchen where the two of you stand. Haknyeon wasn’t the greatest Rage Cage player, but he enjoyed it a hell of a lot more than beer pong. Especially when he stood beside people who didn’t understand the concept of the game.

You chug some more Pink Whitney, batting your eyelashes up at Haknyeon. “I’ve never played Rage Cage. Is it fun?”

“If you’re next to the right people it can be, but if you aren’t, then it’s a whole lot of drinking. We haven’t played Rage Cage at a TBZ party in a while, but the last time we did Eric Sohn almost had to get his stomach pumped.” He laughs a little at the memory of his friend spending the rest of his night cuddling with a toilet seat. The mental picture overshadows how enticing you look right now.

“Do you think you can teach me?” You ask sweetly, hoping that he takes the hint. He seemed like the type of guy who wouldn’t make the first move unless you forced him to, so it appeared that you had your work cut out for you.

“You wanna play?” He turns to you with wide eyes, almost as if he hadn’t expected you to show interest in the game. You give him a small nod, tucking some hair behind your ear. The truth of the matter was that you were a fucking liar. You’ve played Rage Cage plenty of times in the past. You were actually pretty decent at it, too. You just needed an excuse to spend the night around him.

“We better head over there now. It looks like the table is filling up.” You jab your pinkie in that general direction. Haknyeon blows a raspberry and leads you that way, his hand resting on the small of your back so he won’t lose you in the pack of people surrounding the table.

“Forewarning, my rap sheet doesn’t really read World Class Rage Cage Champ,” he laughs nervously, the anxiety beginning to eat at him all over again. “But I promise, I won’t let you get stacked.”

When Haknyeon said he wasn’t the worst, but wasn’t good at Rage Cage, you took his word. Except he severely overplayed his own skill. Maybe he was just extremely on edge and it threw off his game, but the amount of times he was stacked on was a little comical. At the very least, he kept his promise. You hadn’t got stacked once, but that was also only because Haknyeon would drink for you every time you almost did.

The room is sort of spinning by the time the first game has finished. Playing a drinking game while he’s trying to get to know you better was probably at the higher portion of his ‘BAD IDEAS!!!’ list. If he wasn’t so eager to please and followed along to each of your suggestions, perhaps he’d be having a different conversation. That was not the case, though.

You can’t help but feel a little guilty for the turn out. All you’d wanted was to flirt with your lab partner, possibly end the night with some making out. As it was looking, that’s not the path you were heading down, but rather towards the kitchen for some water to sober him up some. Your bottle of Pink Whitney is long lost, replaced with a bottle of H2O. You hold his chin, tilting it back slightly to pour some into his mouth.

If he hadn’t already had the fattest crush on you, he definitely did now. Pretty and nice? You were the total package. Here you were, nursing him back to sobriety when you could’ve been out and about enjoying yourself with your friends. Up this close, he gets a detailed look at you. It’s so weird for him to think about how much he’s pined after you since the start of the semester, how much he’s admired the face that’s looking at him with this unfamiliar tenderness. He never thought he stood a chance. You know, that whole ‘nice guys finish last’ pick me boy vibe.

“Y/N—” He’s cut short, Juyeon’s voluminous voice resonating throughout the house again, sans the music.

“Everybody who isn’t Tau Beta Zeta, get the fuck out! Someone called the cops!”

Of course. Nobody ever calls the cops on a TBZ party but of fucking course the one time Haknyeon gets shoot his shot with you, someone narcs. He actually thinks he might die. He might keel over and die in the middle of this party while the cops are raiding the place. Lee Sangyeon is gonna be thrown in the back of a police cruiser for letting people drink underage and then send them his way because he bought all of the alcohol. This was just his luck.

Without a word, you grab his hand and drag him out through the back door. You follow the flock of other party goers escaping the wrath of the police. It’s difficult to run in a mini skirt and strappy heels, but you don’t really have room to whine about it. Haknyeon doesn’t know if there’s ever a right time to tell you that you could’ve just gone up to his room, but figures it’s too late when you're hopping the short fence that goes out to the main street of Greek Row.

One would think that he’d sobered up at this point since he was, you know, on the run from the law. Yet for some reason Ju Haknyeon himself doesn’t even know, he’s still feeling the effects of the alcohol, tripping over that stupid fucking fence and falling flat on his face. Thankfully, he lands on the grassy part just before the sidewalk, but it doesn’t make the situation any less embarrassing.

You don’t give him recovery time, pulling him to his feet. He holds a hand to the side of his face that received the harshest of the impact, expecting to wake up to a nasty bruise tomorrow. He’s also unsure where exactly you’re taking him, but is afraid of asking out of fear that you’ll send his ass back to the frat house and have him arrested or something. (He had a bad habit of over complicating situations and coming up with the worst possible scenarios.)

Once the commotion has died out and there’s no one else around, you slow your pace. You turn to face him with a grin, holding both of his hands in yours as you walk backwards. “Are you cool with staying the night at my place?”

Truly, Haknyeon needs to know what act of nobility he committed in his previous life. He needs to go back in time and thank himself for whatever it was. Even with fumble after fumble, he was somehow bouncing back and receiving major compensation for sticking it out. He swallows thickly, nodding dumbly when he realizes he hasn’t given you a proper response.

“Um… Yeah— I mean— yes. That’s fine. That’s totally fine.” He word-vomits, stumbling over his tongue rather than his feet. Being down bad was one of his strongest personality traits. And being clumsy was second strongest, so you don't even have to imagine how terrible a combination of both would be.

The walk to your apartment knocks any lingering inebriation out of his system. He’s entirely too hyper aware of what’s happening as you guide him in that direction. It’s cooler out, the temperature dropping in the nighttime as the end of the semester approaches. If there was another reason to be grateful for this party, it was because he no longer had to worry about not making a move before your last lab together. As much as he despised Biology, he’d take it every day if it meant getting to see you.

He actually feels like he may throw up as you reach your place, his hands sticking into the pockets of his jacket to hide the clamminess of his palms. His nerves are creeping up on him once more, a dark cloud looming over him. He shouldn’t be this jumpy at this point of the night. He should be composed, prepared to sweep you off your feet after spending so much time with you. Why the hell is he sweating bullets right now?

“Welcome to my humble abode,” you curtsy. “Would you like something to drink? Water, maybe?”

“Th-That would be great,” Haknyeon forces out, waddling behind you into the kitchen like a baby duckling following its mother. “You have a nice apartment.”

“Really? Thank you!” You can’t help but giggle at his jitters and the way he keeps rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. A sense of déjà vu rushes over you when you pass him a cup. “Living alone has its perks, I guess. I like that I don’t have to argue with anyone about how to decorate and things like that.”

“It sounds a lot more enjoyable than living with a bunch of men in their early twenties,” he smiles weakly as he accepts the glass of water from you. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to how thin the walls are in that house.”

“Do they have sex often?” You ask him bluntly, head cocking to the side almost innocently. He chokes on the water he just sipped, nearly spilling it onto the floor.

“W-What?” He sputters.

“I’m assuming that’s what you’re talking about,” you shrug, facing away from him so you can grab yourself something to drink, also. “We should get back at them.”

You don’t know how many more bones you can throw for him to understand what you're insinuating. Even the frat boy comment you made earlier was intentional. Haknyeon’s mouth goes dry and his eyes widen like a cartoon character’s. What the fuck?

“I’ve never brought a girl back to the house before, because I don’t want them to make fun of me or something— not that I’m saying I would take you back to the house! I mean I just would feel bad if you also got made fun of— not that I’m referring to having sex with you or anything!” The glass in his hands is on the verge of slipping from his grip. “Not that I don’t want to have sex with you— oh my god— um wow, that’s a very lovely fruit bowl you have there I—“

“Hak,” you interject his rambling, wearing a mischievous smile.

The nickname drives him fucking insane. Scratch him possibly dying. If he isn’t dead by the end of the night, he’ll be shocked. Perplexed. Perturbed. Puzzled. Any shock-adjacent synonym you can think of. That will be him. “Y-Yes?”

“Can you shut up and kiss me already?”

Honestly, you don’t have to ask him twice. His lips are on yours in seconds, fingers fisting the material of your skirt at your hips to steel himself. You moan in response to the sheer frenzy behind his actions. It’s so easy to lose yourself in the haste of it; the way you tug at his hair, the blunt edges of his nails digging into your sides, the near clashing of your teeth. He nibbles at your bottom lip, sighing when you allow his tongue to permeate your mouth. He’s content to do nothing but this, kissing you is enough to satiate the desire he’s harbored for you for months. However, with the franticness of your kiss, he knows you want more.

He inches you both backwards until your lower back hits the counter, and then he’s cupping beneath your thighs to hoist you up. His strength sends tidal waves pulsing throughout your whole being, hurriedly pushing the material of his denim jacket off of his shoulders and letting it fall to the floor without a care. Your hands travel south as his lips trail along your jaw and neck, sucking and biting your supple skin wherever he feels fit. He hisses into the dip where your collarbone meets your shoulder when you palm him through his pants.

“Fuck, babe, you want me bad, don’t you?” He mutters into the column of your throat, teeth sinking into the flesh after.

“Mhmm,” you whine, craning your neck to give him more access to the surface. It’s like a switch has flipped in him and it turns you on unbearably. This is what you’ve been trying to coax out of him all night.

Haknyeon pries apart your legs, slotting himself between them so he can sneak his fingers beneath your skirt. His thumb rubs tight circles into your clothed clit, the lace of your underwear damp with your arousal. He connects your lips again, groaning into your kiss when he moves the fabric aside and slides his knuckle through your folds. You buck up your hips, whimpering when he holds them down with his forearm.

“Want more,” you gasp when he applies a bit of pressure to your sensitive bundle of nerves.

“‘More’ what? Use your words, princess,” he instructs, tracing your entrance with his ring finger.

You shake your head because you’re not even sure what it is that you want. You just know that this isn’t enough to quell the hunger burning at your chest. It’s not nearly sufficient to fan the flames in the depths of your heart or the ache in the pit of your abdomen. You need him everywhere. It’s beyond him being your cute Bio lab partner now.

He urges you onto your elbows, pecking the plane of your stomach. He pushes up your skirt and discards your panties, baring you to the cool air of your apartment. Your eyes flutter shut when he kisses your clit gently. Your head is light and airy and it’s like you’re on cloud nine. Haknyeon hums against you, pulling off to scold you.

“Eyes open, baby,” he nudges his nose on your pelvic bone. “Want you to watch me eat you out.”

The moan you release is strained, like it had been confined in the back of your throat for ages until this moment. He flattens his tongue and licks a line from your hole to your clit, suckling the engorged skin and repeating. Your eyelids are heavy, keeping your intense gaze on him as he all but makes out with your pussy. He focuses his mouth on your clit and slips his middle finger into you. He pumps it in and out languidly, setting a rhythm that matches each swirl of his tongue around your clit.

The whole scene still feels unreal to both of you, like you might wake up from a wet dream or something. How was it possible that Ju Haknyeon was finger fucking you on your kitchen counter? Just a couple days ago, you were sitting side by side in your Biology lab, too nervous to initiate a substantial conversation. You’d think it would be harder to slob on someone’s knob than it would be to talk to them while wearing a fuckass lab coat and goggles.

Haknyeon works his forearm up, pinning down your thighs so your cunt is fully accessible. He adds a second finger to the mix, thrusting them at a higher speed and increasing the unrelenting sucking of your bundle of nerves. He can tell you’re creeping closer towards your climax with the way your walls clench around him and your hips continue to jerk up. And considering the kind of person he was, you figured he would aid you rather than hinder you. But you figured wrong.

He slows his assault, removing his mouth from your clit and leaving the stimulation at just his two fingers. You whine, lip quivering when he looks up into your eyes.

“W-Why are you— what are you doing?” You plead, hating the tone of your voice. The tables have turned, with you sitting beside desperation. This is so unlike you— so unlike the usual domineering aura you exude during sex— your body reacting differently to the power falling through the cracks within your grasp.

“Don’t you wanna savor the moment, princess?” He sounds so cocky, a far cry from the wavering confidence you’d always seen out of him. He kisses the skin of your inner thighs, moving closer and closer to the area you need him most, all the while he continues curling and uncurling his fingers.

The precipice of your orgasm is right there, you can almost taste it on the tip of your tongue. But Haknyeon holds it just out of reach, dangling it in your face like teasing a dog with a chew toy. Tears prick at the corner of your eyes, a false sense of hedonism building and building, then slowly ebbing away each time he retracts. You open your mouth, but no sound comes out.

Just when you’ve given up hope, he adds a third finger and wraps his lips around your clit, sucking harshly. The sudden and unexpected intrusion snaps that familiar cord in half, blinding you with white hot pleasure. The groan that escapes from the base of your chest is guttural, echoing throughout the kitchen. You don’t have it in you to worry about waking your neighbors, especially not when you feel the curve of a smile against your cunt, such an uncharacteristic response from Haknyeon.

Your legs spasm as the height of your orgasm calms. You pull him down for a wanton kiss, tangling your fingers in his hair. He laughs at the role swap, hands flat on the counter to hold him over you. “Feel good?”

“So good, Hak,” you murmur into his lips. “Think you can fuck me like that next?”

“So impatient,” he snickers, pecking along your jaw once more. “But since you’ve been so good for me, I think it’s only fair that I return the favor.”

You clumsily undo the button and zipper of his cargoes, pushing them down with your foot. He steps out of them and kicks them away while simultaneously removing his t-shirt. You take your top off and shimmy out of your skirt, raising an eyebrow at the narrowed look in his eyes. “What?”

“Do you have a condom?”

“No,” you poke your cheek with your tongue. “But, I don’t care if you wear one. I’d rather feel you raw, anyway.”

His forehead drops to your shoulder. “God, you’re killing me. Okay.”

He shoves down his briefs and you have to stop yourself from gawking at his size. While he wasn’t the biggest, he was definitely bigger than anyone else you’ve ever been with. He pumps himself a couple times, guiding his length to your entrance and throwing his head back when the tip presses into you. This was really happening, holy shit. Ju Haknyeon was actually having sex with you.

Your toes curl and you stab your nails into your palms to distract from the stinging stretch. He eases into you with the occasional grunt, minding your expressions for any signs of discomfort. When all he sees is your features contorted to display pleasure, he resumes. By the time he’s bottomed out completely, both of you are moaning messes. You feel so full, stuffed to the brim with the weight of his cock.

“I’ve wanted to be inside of you for so fucking long,” he admits, speaking the words into your sticky skin as he drags himself out only to piston back in. The action throttles you a bit, your eyes tempted to roll to the back of your head from how fucking good it feels. You can’t conjure coherent thoughts to properly convey how many endorphins are coursing through your veins.

Haknyeon sets a pace that combines the perfect amount of speed and depth, the tip of his cock brushing that spot deep in your cunt. Your brain is hazy and your vision blurs, hardly able to see anything in front of you. His mouth attaches to the pulse point on your neck, ensuring he bruises the area.

“Y-You’re— fuck— you’re s-so deep, Hak. I can feel you all over,” you wail, bringing one of his hands to tamp your lower stomach. The pressure contributes to the growing tension of your second orgasm, something you know will collide into you with even more exertion than the first.

“Yeah? You’re taking me s-so well, baby. No one else has ever fucked you this good, right?” Sweat beads on his hairline, dripping down his temples with every thrust of his hips and every drive of his cock into your sweet pussy. Even if he really did somehow manage to die tonight, he could do it with integrity. He could go out with the honor of a fallen soldier knowing that he got to experience this at least once in his life.

He hikes one of your knees up to your chest, burying his dick deeper if humanly possible. You arch your back, pushing into his chest to minimize the space between you, antsy at the promise of another release as mind blowing as the last. He brings you to the edge of the counter so you’re now hip to hip. Haknyeon snakes a hand in the middle of your bodies, using his thumb to rub circles into your clit. That stimulation coupled with the depth of his cock encourages the fluttering of your walls, in turn drawing out the state of bliss you’ve been chasing.

Your vision goes blank, stars painting the behinds of your eyelids. A second orgasm crests upon you and evokes a moan so pornographic, it sounds far away from you. It’s a dreamlike euphoria, an almost out of body experience that puts every other orgasm to shame. The surface of your skin is hot to the touch.

“Where do you want me, princess?” Haknyeon asks breathily. In the calamity of your own release, you nearly forgot about his until you register the twitching inside of you. It pauses the static in your ears, returning the volume of the world to its normality.

“Cum inside of me,” you whine, the overstimulation becoming too much to handle. He doesn’t need to be told another time, grip tightening on your thigh as he spills into your cunt.

The two of you stay still for a moment, allowing clarity to flow into your brains. You wince when he finally has half the mind to pull out, his nose scrunching up at the sensitivity. He slides his underwear back on, extremely conscious of how naked he is right now. He has an inkling that you were anticipating that this would happen, because why else would you ask him to stay over tonight? But, he is the Ju Haknyeon that you’ve sat next to this entire semester in your Biology lab. So he couldn’t just march forward without a little overthinking and self deprecation.

“Do you still want me to stay?” His voice has reverted back to that small, unsure tone. You sit up quickly, alarmed by the twinge of disappointment underneath it.

“Of course, I do,” you pout, kissing his cheek and lacing your fingers together. “I’ve had a crush on you since the beginning of the year, Hak. Sure, maybe I skipped a couple steps in between, but I have wanted this so badly— I have wanted you so badly— for you don’t even know how long.”

He chuckles, tucking some hair behind your ear. He leaves a sweet kiss on your lips, softer and gentler than the ones from earlier that night. He’s intentional with the way he glides them in harmony, like he was following the melody of the most beautiful song. “Oh trust me, I think I have an idea.”

© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[g00d--m0urning]

Unnamed Pt. 2 (Daryl Dixon x AFAB!reader)

Yippie, part two!!

Part one

TW/CW: vomiting, gore and violence (not super descriptive, dw), reader is pregnant so obvi AFAB but no gendered descriptors, ex-cop!reader, swearing, no use of Y/N, grammar mistakes

WC: 3942

A/N: I promise it'll pick up speed :'( I'm definitely not doing an episode by episode rewrite. And Daryl and Reader will finally reunite next part, so I'm looking forward to writing that.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A car swerves off the road, trying to avoid scrambling pedestrians, straight towards you; you jump over the hood of a car nearby, narrowly avoiding the car as it bursts into flame. You rush back around, checking on the driver; who is nonexistent apparently, there’s nobody in there. “What the fuck!?” you breathe out, jogging over to your car and getting it started. You get the radio on, switching to the emergency channel, wishing you had your police scanner with you as you get onto the road, heading in direction to the precinct.

If there’s one place you’ll be safe it should be a police station, right? There’s at least guns for whatever the hell is going on. Sirens flash in your rearview, trying to get you to pull over--you swear, but do so anyhow. “Do you know why I--Shit! Greenie?” you recognize the voice, it’s officer Cameron. He leans into your open window pulling his sunglasses down. “Heading down to the precinct?”

“Yeah. Do you know what the hell is going on?” you ask, turning the radio down and surveying both Cameron and behind him. It’s like some sort of apocalypse, but that’s far fetched, you think.

He shakes his head, “Nah, nah; I don’t, there’s too much going on. We’re getting calls left and right, whole damn city’s going into panic.” he answers, scratching at his stereotypical cop-stache. His walkie blares, unintelligible words coming through. “Hey, be safe, get off the roads soon.”

He pats your shoulder, walking off quickly as he speeds off. That was no help at all, you knew all of that already. You groan, pulling back onto the road and getting to your destination. 

Cops are flooding in and out of the building, paramedics and firefighters all gathered there; behind you there’s black SUV’s pulling in, FBI you assume. What in the shit is going on? You sprint into the building, watching the chief dole out guns to anyone in reach, the news is blaring, radios screeching, people yelling, you can barely hear anything. “Greenie, here! Take this, and get home, youngin’. Stay safe, stay indoors.” the chief orders, shoving a glock and a few boxes of ammo into your arms and practically shoving you out the door. You flounder slightly, confused and in need of answers, opening your mouth to speak but you’re cut off, “No time to explain, too much to do, just keep that kid of yours safe.” You gape, throwing your arms in the air. In your confusion you remember Daryl, crap; Daryl, is he ok? You imagine he should be, the man can survive anything, but still. You pull out your phone and dial his number and he doesn’t answer, of course. Fucking, fuck, fuckity fuck, whatever. 

The drive back home is insane, fires and dead people--Dead people? You slam on your brakes, just barely stopping before the body in the middle of the street. You could puke; you’ve seen dead bodies, but never like this. Nothing like this is normal, the body is missing chunks from her arms and neck, like some freako cannibal case. 

The body twitches, just a cadaveric spasm (you learned that in school, you spent years looking at dead bodies, after death spasms are just remaining nerves working, it’s normal). She twitches again, and again and she’s up. You stare at the body in disgust and confusion and shock, you could've swore she was just dead. The undead reaches for you, jaws snapping at your ankles and glazed eyes staring at you. A scream garbles itself from your throat as you stagger back, nearly tripping over the car in the process. You fumble with the door handle, reaching over the center console to grab your gun; the thing manages to grab at your ankle in the time, making you kick out, trying to shake it off. 

You manage to get the gun and get two bullets into the crazed person. Bile rises in your throat as you look at the dead body, watching to see if she comes back again; thankfully she doesn’t and you can puke. You look at her, the bullet holes in her head, the rotting bite marks in her skin; it’s horrid, nothing you’ve seen before. God. 

The car ride home is intense, fires left and right, screaming people--more bitten people, you realize when you look closer at a few of them--and the radio is no help, reports of deaths, murders, and traffic jams. You pull into the parking garage for your apartment, parking in a far corner and tossing a tarp over it to hopefully keep it in better condition and out of view.

You can barely get to your apartment with all the people rushing to and fro throughout the building; some are leaving, packing their stuff into their cars, others are barricading themselves in their apartments. Fortunately you get into your apartment without being trampled, locking both the deadlock and door chain.

Rushing around your apartment is next, filling empty water jugs and bottles with water--who knows how long the water will be on--getting perishables cooked, and inventorying things like batteries, nonperishables, first-aid, anything one needs for an apocalypse.

You thank whatever god that does or doesn’t exist that you went shopping a few days ago; it was a big trip too, you were running low on pretty much everything. So, you don’t need to go try and conquer the shit show that is the shops, which were clearly being raided already. Getting the door barricaded shut was easy enough--bungee cords tied to the door handle and kitchen counter post, chair tucked under the knob (you had to learn quickly how to keep a door shut with Daryl’s old trailer, considering Merle had walked in on the two of you on multiple occasions).

-------------------------------------  

A month passes by very slowly. You never realized how boring it could get without modernity. Normal TV stopped playing a week in, even the emergency signal stopped broadcasting after that. Phones and utilities went week two, something about needing to horde supplies for the military who started setting up camps around that time. 

You had the vague thought of going to one, figuring it’d be safe and helpful with your pregnancy, but quickly learned otherwise over the radio. Infected managed to sneak into the one closest to you, killing most people, so you dodged that bullet. Which means, you’ve just been entertaining yourself with coloring, and light workouts, reading and people watching or--Zombie watching, you suppose. 

The fire escape provides a nice safe vantage point and you pretty much see the whole town--you tried the hall one time and it was overrun, almost didn’t make it back in--and the infected roaming the streets. A few people have passed through, most of them were raiders, passerby, but some were local, those who stayed; officer Cameron stayed, your ultrasound tech, she left a few days ago though. 

You’ve been thinking of doing the same as of late. You don’t know what you’d do if you did, head back to Georgia to find Daryl? Wander until you find a safezone or hell, even just a group so you’re not alone anymore. 

Your head rests in your hands as you contemplate the risks of leaving the apartment; with the zombies flooding the halls and the unknown number of them in the parking garage and who knows what could happen on the drive. 

You roll your eyes, leaning back in the desk chair, “Fuck me, man.” you groan, running a hand down your face as you stand up from the chair, grabbing a backpack out of the closet.

You busy yourself with packing the bag precariously: a few changes of clothes, your first aid kit, a book and notebook, food and water, the few boxes of ammo you have, a knife, a lighter, and in the last bit of space you shove a sleeping bag.

“Yeah, yeah, that should be everything.” you murmur to yourself as you tuck your gun and pocket knife into your belt. 

As you get a foot out of the window something catches your eye, making you pause and hurry back inside. You take the sonogram into your hands, staring at the black and white picture before gently placing it in the side pocket before finally slipping out the window.

You curse at the creaky fire escape as a few heads turn your ways, breathing a sigh of relief as they quickly get distracted. Just to be safe, you toss the plant you had long let die onto the street, watching as the undead shuffle to the noise in hopes of a meal. It’s unsettling, the way they move like puppets on a string, but you file that to the back of your mind and make quick work of the stairs.

Slinking down the alley and sneaking across the street is surprisingly easy--they’re genuinely so brain dead, there’s absolutely no semblance of the person they were before; it’s depressing if you think too hard of it. An involuntary sigh of relief pulls from your lips at the sight of your baby still sitting pretty in the garage. Silently you pull the gray tarp off the car, folding it over itself a few times and tossing it in the backseat along with your backpack into the passenger seat.

“Hello, my beautiful girl, I missed you, baby.” you coo at the car, running a hand over the slick, black roof. You dip back into the passenger seat, popping the glove box open and grabbing the map Daryl had insisted you keep in there.

It’d been annoying back then, but it makes you smile today; guess you really did need it. You unfold the map over the hood of your car, tapping the pencil you had wrapped up in the paper against it. Suddenly reading a map seems like a much more important skill as you stare at the lines representing roads, and rivers, and landmarks. Technically, you do know how to read one, but barely, it’s not like you were in a scouts troop as a kid.

There’s a few old markings on the map from Daryl--just a few words, circles to help direct you--it almost makes you cry. You chalk it up to pregnancy hormones as you swallow thickly, marking up the map for your trip. If you remember correctly, it took about twelve hours--including stops--to get to Virginia from Georgia.

So, you should get there in a flash; what traffic is going to be stopping you? Well, the roads might be blocked, you guess you’ll find out. You trace a couple different routes, just in case before the annoyingly familiar groans of the undead echo across the concrete building. 

Folding the map up you sigh, “Let's get this show on the road.” You tap Baby’s hood twice before getting into the car, propping the map up against your backpack in the passenger seat.

The drive is…surprisingly nice, you popped in an old mix tape into the stereo, tapping the wheel in beat to every song. Only downside is the traffic--and people aren’t even alive, you’d think that’d be the one good thing about the apocalypse, but no! Roads are clogged with cars, some crashed and others just stopped, like everyone just disappeared. Back roads aren’t too horrible though, it’s nice seeing something alive, even if it’s just flora. 

 Nature comes a-calling around the fourth hour of the drive, pulling off at an old mom&pop looking gas station. The bell hanging from a sparkly ribbon jingles as you slowly push the door open, waiting in the entrance for anything, dead or alive. 

Nothing comes after a minute or two, so you continue in, looking around the small building; it’s in shockingly good condition. It’s pretty cleaned out, but everything is intact. Something bumps against your foot as you walk through the aisles, making you yelp. It’s just a soda can, you learn when you look down, letting out a shaky chuckle.

“Phew, we’re good,” you exhale aloud, squatting down with a groan to pick up the can. You run a hand over your bump when you stand back, smiling when she kicks against your hand.

To your dismay, the bathrooms are locked and you’d really prefer not to pop a squat in a bush. After a bit of searching, you find the key attached to a fly swatter behind the counter and finally get to do your do. 

You confiscate a bottle of hand sanitizer on your way out, slathering your hands in the liquid. As you pass the gas pump you figure it wouldn’t hurt to top off your tank, maybe fill a few cans; you just hope the damn things still have gas. 

“Moment of truth…” you mutter as you stick the nozzle into the fuel door, pulling the lever and hoping like hell. Gas starts flowing and you’re elated, bouncing between your feet as you go grab gas cans.

“On the road again, I just can’t wait to get on the road again,” you hum as you start driving again, feeling pretty good about everything.

The sun is shining, backroads are clear, gas tank is full, what isn’t there to feel good about? 

Eventually you have to get back onto the highway, but that high and mighty feeling still stays strong through the last five and a half hours of the drive--It doesn’t when you get to Atlanta. If you thought other cities were bad, then you don’t have a clue what to consider Atlanta. 

The sun had already set hours ago, so you decide it’s best to just pull over, get some sleep and try to brave the mess that once was Interstate 85. Sleep comes easy, considering; it’s a warm summer night, muggy as all hell though, but you got a good few hours before the sound of horse hooves awoke you--Horse hooves?

You sit up hastily, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you look out the window to try and identify where the clopping is coming from. You get eyes on the horse and realize it’s definitely not wild, it’s got a rider.

A guy, you think, adorned with a cowboy hat and a bag of something slung over his shoulder. His head turns and you shrink into the backseat, hoping he didn’t see you. He did, if the way the horse’s footsteps seem come closer with every passing moment; maybe he’s just passing by--He’s not.  

Something metal taps against the car window (a gun, it’s a gun, oh no, he’s gonna shoot you), “Hey, I can see you in there; I don’t mean harm,” says a faint country accent. 

You have a half thought of reaching for your gun, which stupidly still lays in the front seat, you’d be dead before you grabbed it, so you can be reasonable. You tilt your head up, meet with a man wearing a sheriffs--not a cowboy, okie dokie--hat, something of a hesitant, sheepish smile revealing pearly teeth.

“I’m going to sit up, and turn around.” you inform him, raising hands in surrender as you very slowly sit up. He may’ve said he doesn’t mean harm, but you don’t want to risk any sudden movements. 

He watches tentatively and you do the same, staring at each other for a solid minute--maybe he is a cowboy, you swear this could be a scene out of an old western. His eyes rove over you, searching for weapons or you assume. A protective hand instinctively goes to your stomach, shielding your baby from his scorching glare.

“You’re pregnant?” are the next words out of his mouth; they’re quiet, almost worried, you could barely make them out through the glass. It takes you a second to answer, it’s not like you thought nobody would notice, you’re five months pregnant, but you hoped it wouldn’t be super obvious.

“No, I’m just super fat,” you retort, scowling as you roll the window down, “What'd you want, cowboy?” 

That makes him snort, shaking his head slightly, “Cowboy? Nah, my name’s Sheriff Rick Grimes, you?”

You continue scrutinizing the man, a deep frown pulling at your lips. He looks friendly enough, looks can be deceiving though. You lean into the front seat, popping open your glove compartment and grab your ID, passing it to--Rick, apparently. 

“You’re an officer too?” oh yeah, you forgot you keep your badge in your wallet. You nod slightly, snatching the wallet from his grip, deciding he’s had more than enough time with it.

“Was, an officer.” you correct, watching him just laugh at you like this is a perfectly normal interaction, water cooler chat. “In case you haven’t noticed, the world’s gone to shit, I’m not an officer anymore, you’re not a sheriff, we’re survivors, that’s it.”

“Ain’t you a ray of sunshine?” he quips, raising his hands in mock surrender as he catches sight of your unamused expression. “Well, sunshine, need a ride into the city?”

You go to say ‘no,’ but pause for a moment. A horse is probably easier, fits between cars better, quieter, it’s not a bad idea. Trusting him though? Could be. You could kill him, take the horse, but that’s a little bit much, you reckon.

“Ugh--yeah, a ride would be, huuugh, nice.” you concede, deciding if he were to kill you, it’d be a better way to go than to have your flesh torn from your skin. You wave your hand out the window, getting him to move so you open the car door.

Joints pop as you exit the car, crackling when you stretch and walk over to the passenger side to grab your bag. You tick a mental checklist as you gather your belongings--knife, in your belt, gun, on the other side of your belt, bag, over your shoulder, yep. You’ve got everything. 

The metal of the car is warm as you caress her, “I’ll be back, Baby, I promise,” is what you mumble to the car whilst you press a kiss to the roof. 

Rick’s eyebrow raises slightly, clearing not understanding the deep bond between a person and their beloved car. All he gets in return is a glare whilst you hike your bag higher onto your shoulder, shuffling over to his horse. 

“Well? Let’s go, cowboy, we’re losing daylight!” you nag, causing the sheriff to hurry over, clicking his tongue. 

“You’re impatient, anyone ever told you that?” he questions rhetorically as he pulls himself onto the horse, sticking a hand out to help you up.

Your, seemingly permanent, glower is directed at his hand, like it’s a piece of filth as you hoist yourself onto the horse. The animal nickers and starts trotting once more; instinctively your hands go to Rick’s shoulders to keep from falling off the horse.

“Sooo… What’re hoping to find in Atlanta?” Rick asks, looking over his shoulder to look at you. All you do is shrug, not wishing to speak to him--even if you did, you don’t know what you’re hoping to find.

He nods slowly at your non-answer, “I’m tryin’ find my wife, Lori, and my son, Carl,” he informs you, making you feel bad at the fact that he’s opening up.

You blame pregnancy hormones for the guilty feeling, “You having a boy or girl or do you even know?” is the next thing you register from his mouth.

You decide to answer this one, “A girl, found out the day this shit started.”  you reveal, throwing him a bone with the extra tidbit. His head bobs along with your words, trying to keep an eye both on you and the busy road.

“I always wanted a little girl. Give Carl someone to protect when he gets older, y’know?” 

“Yeah, that makes sense. How old is he--Carl, I mean.”

“‘Bout eleven; shit, by now he’s probably twelve.”

“How’d you get separated from your wife and kid?”

That makes Rick pause, and you start backtracking. It’s none of your business, you shouldn’t have asked. He snickers at your stammering, shaking his head.

“It’s ok, don’t worry; I was just trying to figure out how to word it.” he explains, scratching the back of his neck, “I got shot on duty--none of us realized there was a third guy--sent me into a coma. Next thing I knew I woke up and half the world was dead and my house was cleared out.”

You wince slightly. Damn, that must suck, you didn’t have any friends when this started, so you didn't have anyone to worry about. You couldn’t imagine being in a coma for months then waking up and the world’s ended and your family’s gone.

“Ooh, that’s shitty, man. Really. Hope you find them.” you apologize, awkwardly patting his shoulder.

“That makes two of us.” he agrees, falling into focus as you hit the city limit.

The streets are clearer in the city, apparently nobody made it into the city. You look around, tightening your grip on Rick’s shoulder in worry as you turn the corner. Suddenly the horse is bucking upwards, tossing both of you off of her. It takes a moment to realize why you’re on the floor, but the second you see the horde you're panicking.

“Rick, hey man, up! We’ve gotta go.” you yell, grabbing at his shoulder. Unlike yourself--who luckily landed on your bag--Rick got knocked on his ass, clearly winded as he only stares in horror. 

Undead start growling, getting distracted from the now dead horse, stumbling towards fresh meat. It’s cruel, but you leave. You spin, looking for somewhere to run, eyes snagging on a tank. It’s a short sprint to the military vehicle, but a vague struggle to climb up, barreling down the hatch and yanking it shut.

You can barely catch your breath before growling fills your ears, a zombie soldier crawling towards you. Before you can even try to scream, a shot rings out followed by arguably the most painful ringing noise. 

Your head whips around, finding Rick holding his ears, gun in one hand. If you could hear yourself think, you’d yell at him. What kind of idiot shoots a gun in a tank? A metal box? He could’ve blown our eardrums out! He also saved your life, so he gets a pass.

“Thanks.” you gasp when the ringing finally subsides, rubbing furiously at your temple. He presents you with a shaky thumbs up, against the opposite wall you’re leaning on. “Sorry for leaving you out there,” you whisper, peeking an eye open to look at him.

“You’re good, I would've done the same if I could’ve--no offense.” he admits, lazily waving a hand through the air. 

You chuckle, shaking your head, “Trust me, none taken.”

You’re ready to just pass out here in the tank, yet Rick still seems loaded, drawing the peek-a-boo hatch open, staring at the scene outside. He mutters something you can’t quite hear, relocking the hatch and sliding back down. 

“The weapons bag…my walkie…” are the few distraught words you manage to catch, shutting your eyes.

It’s silence between the two of you for a long stretch until the radio crackles. You think you’re hearing things since Rick didn’t seem to hear anything, but it crackles again. Rick hears it this time, nearly getting whiplash with the speed he turned his head. 

He looks at you for confirmation, to make sure he’s not crazy. He’s not, unless you’re both hearing things and going insane. You nod, wiggling over to kneel next to him in front of the radio when it crackles a third time; a voice comes through this time.

“Hey, you two. Dumbasses. Y’all in the tank. You guys cozy in there?”

[hiwelcometothemonstersancturary]

Listing a few funny things that happened when Angel had to deal with the media, post rescuing everyone from Playtime Co:

Angel, still shaking from spending one week inside the factory and with dried blood still glued to their hair, smelling like hell, politely answering some questions while in the hospital while waiting for Dogday's emergency surgery to finish.

The media being obsessed with calling Angel, whose actual name is Raphael Taylor de Oliveira, "Angel" the moment they hear one of the toys referring to them as that.

Combine the religious imagery with Angel's poor little meow meow wet kitten born in a cardboard box with every disease face and we have a very, very easy way for making the narrative out to be "a kind ex-worker at Playtime Co. discovers that children were used as experiments inside the factory and risks their own life in order to save them".

Angel is instant-loved by Brazil the moment the first news start to arrive, which is something they're very proud of.

Angel having to hold Catnap and Mommy Long Legs by their hands while giving out an interview in their home, so neither one of them would be too mean to the poor reporters. Angel still has to tell them to be nicer though.

The cops and investigators having to explain why they didn't figure out there was something wrong with the factory when all Angel had to do was walk inside and say hello to the Huggy Wuggy statue.

A reporter explaining the horrific events while in the background Huggy stares at her like "smoll person :0}" and boops her. Cue to Angel saying sorry and anxiously guiding him away.

"What did you have to eat while trapped down there?", someone asks, and the toys all go "oh hahahaha. uhm. rats. and the bodies of our friends WHEN THEY INEVITABLY DIED FROM A DISEASE. we didnt hunt each other dw dw hahahahahaha".

Angel a few months later, after buying the farm, giving a "house tour" so people will know the kids are doing okay and stop pestering them about house-related questions. Angel is very excitedly telling the reporter about how much more space they have now while Catnap is eyeing a bird in the background. "Theo don't you think about that, you have food right there".

One of the mini critters listing all the toys that were gifted for them and saying "it's very nice, very chewable", I like how it tastes" and Angel looks at them like "so it's YOU who has been chewing the toys??????", with the reply being "and the doors as well!"

Catnap going from referring to Angel as "our savior" to simply "our mother" during any interviews or news reports where he somehow talks.

Everyone wanting to interview Dogday because he does, indeed, have a radiant and happy energy and audiences love him.

Angel saying "and the hut is the house of 1006, the first one to ever happen, but he would prefer if we just left him alone".

Poppy being someone who's always SUPER pleasant to work with, and excitedly telling the reporters everything they have been doing around the farm.

Angel sighing after finding out Prototype is Elliot Ludwig, KNOWING they'll have to tell the authorities so they can have license money and control over the Playtime Co. brand.

Angel turning to the family's lawyer like "you won't believe what I just found out", the lawyer saying "oh, this won't be the most absurd thing you told me yet", then after hearing Angel tell her about it going "oh, you are always full of surprises, uh. Uhm. Now that makes things complicated", and Angel laughing to the point of tears after that.

ALL the news reports during the trial against Playtime Co.'s higher ups and the negligent authorities. Kickin keeps a collection of the "best moments", which include Angel beating the ever living shit out of a higher up after he refers to the toys as "things" and "collateral damage" instead of "victims of human experimentation".

The news about the fact that apparently Elliot Ludwig became the first PlayCo. experiment ever, and Angel + Poppy having to deal with THAT.

Prototype's single public apparition, around 4/5 years post-rescue, because he had to go to court as well so Angel would have a chance of getting the rights to PlayCo. and all of its properties back to them.

The news when Dogday and Catnap get married, a whole decade post-rescue.

Angel just dropping the most cryptid information ever in social media or during one of the rare interviews they're willing to give after the initial years post-rescue. They tweet things like "I saw some people asking if any of the toys ever attacked me during the week I stayed at PlayCo, and I want everyone to know that all of them at some point did. But don't worry, I bit them back, we're all good now" and one time say "my husband and I like to grow tomatoes like this, but one of our daughters has been trying another way" and that's how everyone finds out Angel and Prototype are a Thing.

Craftycorn happily blogging her life as an artist and featuring all of the other toys during her videos, while Poppy does makeup and sewing tutorials, and the two of them doing collabs and livestreams often. During one of the streams Angel screams "THEODORE GRAMBELL LUDWIG OLIVEIRA DID YOU JUST HUNT A COYOTE AGAIN", and that's how Crafty and Poppy's fans discover everyone decided to add Ludwig Oliveira to their names.

I would say more but honestly this post has been getting pretty long so rip

[violetganache42]

A collection of highlights celebrating some of the best dads, uncles, and father figures in the Duckverse/Mickey & Friends franchise:

"Donald's Happy Birthday"

Donald's birthday being on THE DAY BEFORE KRABS FRIES

hueberryshortcake: "WHAT THE FUCK LUEY" puffywuffy8904 and caro: "LUEY?!"

WriteBackAtYa admitting how some of the Donald shorts he streams are reminders on why his DT17 iteration is the best one

"Darkly Dawns the Duck"

Godfrey and Missy joining JUST IN TIME for the theme song

A man has fallen for a man in St. Canard

"Oh brother, this guy STINKS!!!"

Darkwing always forgetting the milk

Clips from the theme being featured in the episode

Everyone passing on Hammerhead in "Smash or Pass"

Godfrey and I joking about the vulture being Bradford

Everyone happy to see Launchpad!

"I'm a pilot!"

The first crash of the Not-the-Thunderquack

Everyone also happy to see Gosalyn making her debut!

Gosalyn's adoption monologue

puffywuffy8904: "ON HIS YEEYEE ASS BIKE"

ACAB! Again! (Except to M'ma)

"I'm a kid. I'm supposed to be irresponsible."

Missy: "im gonna choke gosalyn and drake" WriteBackAtYa: "-Darth Vader" Godfrey: "Nooooo" WriteBackAtYa: "-Darth Vader in Revenge of the Sith"

Little Girl Blue

Godfrey: "Major motion picture DW CHILL"

Darkwing Kung-Fu

Jail bird

Launchpad crashing into the jail cell

Thunderquack

Darkwing Duck: "Let's get dangerous!" Us:

"Before I met you, I didn't have a life worth risking."

Bulba: *steals the gold* Godfrey and I: *Scrooge mention* caro: "ME MONEY, ME BEAUTIFUL MONEY"

hueberryshortcake: "it's over taurus bulba i have the high ground" Me: "YOU UNDERESTIMATE MY POWER"

Drake adopting Gosalyn

The theme song playing before the credits rolled

"Life, the Negaverse, and Everything"

Fearsome Five appearance!

Missy's Negaduck Mode going into overdrive

hueberryshortcake: "ATTENTION DRAKE MALLARD!!!!!!!!" Godfrey: "I'VE COME TO MAKE AN ANNOUNCEMENT-"

"I hate the Muddlefoots, and I hate their parties!"

Drake's relationship with the Muddlefoots:

(Meme by @blondedonaldduck)

Fearsome Five in a nutshell:

(Meme by @hueberryshortcake)

melcat33: "they are so desparate to appease the boss" Missy: "i'm desparate to appease negaduck, too"

(This has become a running gag with these highlights. lol)

Darkwing Duck: Into the Negaverse

Nega Gosalyn and Nega Launchpad appearance!

Della 🤝 Darkwing NOTHING CAN STOP THEM

Nega Honker being a FUCKING MENACE

Friendly Four appearance!

"Gosalyn's guardian is Negaduck."

Us: "NOT THE TOWER"

"LOSERS"

Spider-Clown

Darkwing's Ducks

MY ACCIDENTAL TIMING (I was actually crying from laughing so hard! lmao)

puffywuffy8904: "MEGAVOLT'S YEEYEE ASS MASK"

Nega Gosalyn having four Darkwings to take care of her

Negaduck getting killed

"What Ever Happened to Donald Duck?!"

Lunaris Hate Club

Donald getting beak clamped like: "You can't mute me, old man!"

Phooey mention!

Dewey and Webby's ghost pepper conspiracy theory:

Penumbra appearance!

"Unlikely roommate situation"

Dew-tective and Bad Cop

SAVE THE SAD, WET CAT

Dewey and Webby getting to be kids

"Bills, bills, more bills. Man, being an adult is not fun."

Missy: "Jones needs to learn how to word his letters better"

Anger management therapist Jones being based off of Neighbor Jones

Classic Donald Duck shorts humor and slapstick in this episode

"Fine, but if that summer camp shuts down, it's on you."

"Aw, phooey."

Scrooge, his enemies, Della, and the triplets being among potential threats to Lunaris

puffywuffy8904: "lunaris is such a nice man surely he would never target children specifically OH NO"

Lunaris electrocuting Penumbra:

(I am sorry if Tumblr butchered the quality from 1080p to 720p.)

Scrooge sounding OFFENDED at Dewey calling him "old man"

Jones' monologue about Donald's anger issues and how he was able to channel it healthily

Donald attacking Lunaris:

"PK FIRE" "PK THUNDER" "PK FREEZE" "ZETTAFLARE"

"Goofy's Grandma"

"HUMANS"

Dreamy: "GO MILITARY GRANNY GOOO"

Donald disguised as Goofy and getting paid for it

Mickey seeing a giant ass spider right as he opened the front door a la "Wormy"

A Goofy Movie (Rewatch)

caro: "Watching a movie. There better not be any goofy shit" puffywuffy8904: "WHAT THE FUCK"

Max dressed as Powerline

Pete losing Peg and Pistol in the divorce

Speaking of which, THE MOVIE THAT STARTED THE PETE HATE CLUB

The FUCKING principal

🎵STAND OUT ABOVE THE CROWD🎵

puffywuffy8904: "that was megavolt jr."

Donald being Goofy's best buddy!

Us whenever Idaho is mentioned: "POTATOLAND! POTATOLAND!"

puffywuffy8904: "you know who else is gonna end up in the electric chaaaair" WriteBackAtYa: "MY MOM"

melcat33 being Cinemasins (Ding!)

WriteBackAtYa: "To me, it's a regular movie." Me:

Wilhelm Scream

Mickey and Donald cameos!

Lester's Possum Park

Dreamy: "Max isn't white enough to like country music"

Lester mascot being Phantom Blot

SQUIRRELS IN MAX'S PANTS

WriteBackAtYa: "Stupid Rat Show"/"YOU LEAVE MIC'S NAME OUT OF THIS"

Amphibia AU of A Goofy Movie because Bill Farmer

The absence of Max's mom + the absence of the triplets' dad (*cough* Daffy *cough*) = they eloped together

Spam: "yeah i'm going to the zoo i'm going to the zoo and then i'm gonna see some animals"

The PIZZA

Seriously, between Three Musketeers and this, WHO THE FUCK IS RESPONSIBLE FOR ALL THE PETE FANSERVICE?!

"CHECK DA MAP GOOF"

The colors and lighting throughout the movie

DuckLooneyHistorian: "'My son respect me!' Really Pete, what about your wife? 😂"

Any joining at the WORST possible time

The scene that inspired Puffy's DT17 fanart…

…and the "Draw the Squad" meme

"I just want to be a part of it."

Just how fucking amazing the soundtrack is

WriteBackAtYa: "Don't tell me. We're about to go over a huge waterfall." Me: "Yep." WriteBackAtYa: "Sharp rocks at the bottom?" Me: "Most likely." WriteBackAtYa:

THE PERFECT CAST

Reminiscing about how "I2I" started playing RIGHT as Godfrey's birthday began

Any: "Dat ass ahyuk"

Powerline:

Jamming out to "I2I" during the credits

melcat33: "/to the tune of Bill Nye/ WILL WILL WILL WILL"

DuckLooneyHistorian doing the Goofy holler

[finnskeeper]

05x15: "The Long Goodbye Job"

Thoughts under the cut. I'm not sure how long this is going to be.

The Opening

"What was your mistake?" The cuts and bruises on Nate's face. The shaking. The barely held back tears. I knew this episode was going to be a doozy, but I didn't expect to be hit by a truck right out of the gate.

The Client

Here's where it gets interesting. There is no client. But Nate had to come up with one for the story he sells to Interpol over the course of the episode. So what would be so damn important that he'd risk everything? Making sure another parent doesn't have to go through what he did with Sam.

The Plan

Watching it a second time, it's definitely fun to try to pick out which points are fact and which are part of Nate's story. We know the rundown went a little differently (Eliot and Parker were at the briefing for the black book, not doing recon on the building) but there are likely elements that are real (Hardison's hesitation at the Sterenko, for example). The rooftop scene with Nate and Parker isn't real (because they didn't go in on the roof, they came in with the coroner's van) and that hurts my heart just a little. It was a great little moment for them, a passing of the torch in a way. It is possible that he took her up there and did all that math to calculate the water balloon shot, but honestly that kind of math is all doable from home base, since they would have access to building heights and distances, and doesn't need to be as accurate.

The Middle

"You said you made a mistake. How did your friends die?"

Aaaaaand there it is. Nate's face here wrecked me. The tears, the shock, the pain...given that he actually crashed the van into the river and took those injuries, do you think there was a small, tiny moment when he thought what she was saying was true? Did he forget, even for a second, that this was also part of the con and he was actually being interrogated about the death of his family?

The Job

Remember Nate is the narrator here, and we see him in the theater basement watching (though later we know he was, in fact, the responding officer), but there are little hints that something is amiss. A) There's no way Nate would actually miss the fact that radios would still work. Hell, Eliot wouldn't miss it. He grabbed walkies in the "Cross My Heart Job" when they didn't have earbud access. No reason to think they would forget those exist now. And B) "Baker 12" being the cop's designation. Nice, sneaky DW reference.

The Collapse

And here's where it all "goes wrong." These 2 minutes were THE most stressful, and that was me going in knowing the big reveal. Hardison dropping down the elevator shaft was horrible, but then Eliot comes in with a steel chair and the most devastating "Dammit Hardison!" of the entire series.

And then we have the whole back of the van/chase scene...

HOW DID ANYONE WATCH THIS LIVE/UNSPOILED AND NOT IMMEDIATELY THROW UP?

(Also, I firmly believe this is another hint that something is amiss...he went to jail to save these people. 3 of them are "gone," but Sophie is still next to him. IMO, Nate would never [willingly] put Sophie in any danger. It's established canon [in S2 he leaves Tara with some dangerous men, and Sophie calls him on it. He'd never leave her there], and having him drive them off a bridge to their deaths rather than surrender seems farfetched now that I look at it again with a clearer head.)

Nate losing it and just pounding on the table in anger and grief. I legit had to pause and walk away for a moment.

The Real Job

"WHY WOULD I LIE? WHY? I SCREWED UP, I GOT THEM KILLED! I LOST EVERYTHING, THE ONLY THING I EVER HAD! WHY! WHY! WHY WOULD I LIE!?"

And that's on Emmys, baby.

Nate looking right at the camera: "No active cases."

Hello, Sterling.

"You would get them killed for that." Is that a note of anger I detect in your tone, Sterling? Are you mad at Nate for their deaths? I thought you didn't like them...

Ah, yes, the actual target. Honestly, no one explains this better than John Rogers himself in the DVD commentary:

“This is a big ass speech. This is a big ass stop the show, this is the moral framework of the entire five years you’ve seen. Nate Ford justifies 77 episodes of Leverage in this speech, cause you know what? It is the last goddamn episode, you’re gonna know why we made the show. We didn’t make the show cause we thought it was clever or cute or fun. I always say this, no show succeeds unless somebody loves it and you know what, everybody loves this show and to me, what Nate’s saying here is important enough to say out loud. No one should be allowed to cheat and get away with it.”

JUSTICE OR ORDER

The Twist/The REAL Job

"Parker's still in the server room." *insert Thor meme here* Is she though?

Fake bodies! And where are those pesky van drivers?

Sterling figuring it out and letting Nate gloat, just a little.

Sophie being the Sterenko operator AND police dispatch AND the supervisor, acting as the grifter/mastermind behind the scenes.

Nate revealed as the patrol officer.

ELIOT ROLLING HIS EYES AND FALLING INTO THE VAN "DEAD."

The recap of how it actually all went down.

"They'll be mixed in with the audience!" Cut to the OT3 in silly little soldier costumes on stage.

10/10, no notes.

(Hey, do you think Sophie/the team had the live feed of the interrogation room so they could know when to move to the next phase of the plan? Do you think they watched Nate rip his own heart out as he played out his worst imaginable scenario?)

The End

"Justice is always easy." Dammit Sterling! Why do you always make it so hard to hate you?

The Proposal ("You gotta say it.")

The OT3 ("Til my dying day.")

LEVERAGE INTERNATIONAL, HELL YES

The final scene is giving "end of Men in Black" vibes. The swanky suits, Hardison and Eliot in power stances, the callback speech, PARKER MASTERMIND FTW...it's all so good.

Has a show ever ended so perfectly? I don't think so. This is the yardstick upon which all other finales will be measured.

Now it's time to go back and watch S1 in the proper order.

[falcqns]

you'll be alright (no one can hurt you now) chapter one

✰ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Lucy Chen & Tamara Colins, Tim Bradford & Lucy Chen, background Tim Bradford x Lucy Chen

✰ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Lucy finds Tamara, not as a 17 year old, but as a newborn. She immediately takes her in, and vows to give her the childhood and support that she deserves.

✰ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: canon divergence, autistic!Tamara, Tim Bradford would do anything for Lucy Chen, mentions of drug overdose, and drug addiction, death (not a main character though dw), Lucy is a hardcore swiftie, 

don’t forget to read and reblog, and i do not give permission for my works to be posted anywhere other than tumblr. thank you.

Title is from Safe and Sound by Taylor Swift

Lucy stood on the side walk, hands on her duty belt, and eyes on her current training officer, Scott Wrigley as he asked the woman they had just pulled over to see her licence, registration and proof of insurance. The woman willingly, gave him the documents, and Lucy found her attention wandering away from the woman in the car, and surveying the area they were in. 

Lucy, truthfully, was bored. While Tim was hard on her, he was a good, solid cop, that did the job because he wanted to make a difference in the world. Wrigley, while also a good, solid cop, was only there for a pay check. He was there to write tickets for 12 hours a day, get paid, and go home to his children without a scrape on him. And while Lucy respected that, it just wasn’t for her. She wanted to make a difference, and sitting here, taking only the tame calls, was not doing that. She knew she just had to stick it out for a little longer, and Tim would be back, but she was starting to think she was going crazy. 

So crazy that she was now having auditory hallucinations. Auditory hallucinations of a baby crying. 

They were in the middle of nowhere, which was rare in Los Angeles. All that was here was empty, and long abandoned warehouses. There was no reason for a baby’s cry to be heard around here. Lucy shook her head, trying to get the noise to stop, and focus back on her temporary TO. 

“You hear that, Chen?” Wrigley asked, stopping as he was walking back to the car. 

“Hear what, sir?” She responded, expecting him to say something dumb like ‘the silence of a calm day,’ or something like that, just to unintentionally rub it in her face that she was bored out of her fucking mind with him. 

“The baby crying,” he said, and Lucy stopped. He could hear it too? She thought to herself. If he could hear it too, that meant one of two things. 1) they were both going insane, or 2) the baby’s cry that she was hearing was from an actual baby. And she knew which one was more likely than the other. 

“Yes sir, I do.” She said, looking around. “Do you want me to go find where the baby’s cry is coming from?” 

Wrigley furrowed his eyebrows. “Why would we do that?” He questioned. 

“Isn’t…that why you mentioned it?” She asked, thoroughly confused. “Look where we are. All that is here is empty and abandoned warehouses, why would we be hearing a baby cry here? We should be making sure that everything is okay before we leave.” 

Wrigely smirked at her. “Good job, Chen.” He said, and Lucy dug her nails into her palm to stop her from rolling her eyes. He was testing her. “Go check it out while I fill out this paperwork.” She nodded, and headed off in the direction that she heard the cry. 

The cry was growing louder as she turned the corner, ending up in an alleyway between two abandoned warehouses, covered in graffiti. She continued to follow the cry as she approached a dumpster. Her stomach was in knots. Surely if it was a parent and their baby, she would have heard the parents voice, right? Surely no one would have left their defenceless and helpless infant to fend for themselves, right?

Wrong. 

Lucy walked to the other side of the dumpster, and she gasped, her heart pounding. On the ground, beside the dumpster, was a baby, who couldn’t be older than a few hours old, judging by the umbilical cord still attached, and how the baby, who upon closer inspection was a girl, was haphazardly wiped off and placed in a broken wicker basket. 

Next to her, was very obviously her mother. There was a pool of blood covering her upper thighs and the ground underneath her, and used needles spread around the scene, including one still stuck in her upper arm. Lucy grabbed her radio, and pressed down. 

“Control, this is 7-Adam-19 requesting an RA and a supervisor at Cromer Lane, in the first alleyway on the left, I have a 10-50, code 3.” Lucy placed her radio back, and crouched down next to the baby, doing her best to comfort the little girl without picking her up, despite how much Lucy wanted to. 

“It’s okay, sweet girl,” She whispered, reaching into her duty belt for a pair of gloves. She slid them on her hands, and reached over to the baby’s mother in order to try and see if she could feel a pulse. Her heart broke for the sobbing baby girl when she couldn’t feel one. 

She heard sirens in the background, as well as boots hitting the ground, clearly Wrigley running to see what was happening after hearing her call on the radio. 

“Oh my god.” He whispered from behind her. 

“I need something to wrap the baby in,” She said to Wrigley, and he started to retreat, mumbling something about grabbing an emergency blanket from the shop. 

He returned less than a minute later, and Lucy grabbed the package from him, ripping it open. She shook the blanket to get it to unfold, before she wrapped the small infant up, holding her close to her chest, hoping some of her body heat would transfer through the blanket. 

The sirens got closer, and Lucy began to see the flashing lights reflected on the brick wall across from her. Wrigley was talking to her, but she wasn’t hearing or processing anything coming out of his mouth. All that she could focus on was the tiny little baby in her arms, who was calmed down, and was just staring up at her, her small brown eyes looking up into Lucy’s. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” She whispered. “You’re gonna be okay.” She heard the doors of the ambulance open behind her and paramedics rush to her side. A female paramedic crouched down next to her, and began to ask her questions about the baby and her mother. 

“She seems to be okay, physically at least.” Lucy rambled, her eyes not leaving the tiny baby. “She can’t be more than a few hours old.” 

The paramedic nodded. “Judging by the shaking, I’m assuming her mother was using her entire pregnancy.” Lucy nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. She watched carefully as the paramedics cut the umbilical cord, and then continued working on trying to resuscitate her mother, with no success. 

They gave her 2 doses of Narcan, did CPR, and tried the AED, but nothing worked. She was gone, and had probably been gone since before Lucy and Wrigley arrived on scene. 

“We have to take her to the hospital,” The paramedic beside Lucy stated, standing up. Lucy did the same, as Grey and Wrigely walked up to her. 

“I’m coming with,” she stated. 

“Boot-“ Wrigley replied, clearly frustrated with how hard headed she was being. 

“I’m going.” She stated, firmer. She then turned to Grey, and looked at him for approval. He nodded at her, a smile on his face. 

“Go with her, Chen.” He said. “Let us know if theres any updates.”

Lucy smiled. “Yes, sir.” She said, before following the paramedic, and climbing in the back of the ambulance. They were pulling away a few moments later, and were headed to St Stephens. 

Lucy was able to stay with the baby until they reached the NICU. She was then told that they needed to do an assessment on the infant, but that someone would come and grab Lucy when she was able to go see her. She sat down in the uncomfortable hospital waiting room chair, and glanced around at the other families in the NICU. She didn’t know any of their stories, but they all had one thing in common; they were here because they wanted their baby to be okay. 

And while that tiny little baby wasn’t Lucy’s, Lucy was the one who found her, who called for help, who held her and comforted her when she needed it the most. She had no one at the moment, so there was nowhere else Lucy would rather be than here, supporting this little girl. 

“Officer Chen?” A voice said to the right of her. She looked up, and stood up when she saw the doctor. 

“Yes?” She said, coming face to face with the nurse in charge of the infant. “Is she going to be okay?” 

The nurse smiled. “She is very lucky, officer.” Lucy let out a breath that she didn’t know she was holding at that. “She is very healthy. She does have traces of meth in her blood, but it is a very minuscule amount. It should leave her system within the next 8 to 24 hours.” 

Lucy nodded. “Okay. Thats good. I was thinking the worst.” 

The nurse nodded. “She is a very lucky little girl. I have contacted DCFS, and they are going to send someone as soon as they can, it appears that they are very backed up at the moment. Is there anything you need from me?” 

“Uh,” Lucy stuttered, racking her brain for the protocols to follow in this situation. “No, not right now. I will have to wait for my supervisor or training officer to proceed, but in the meantime, am I able to go sit with her?” 

The nurse nodded, and began to turn. “Of course, follow me and I’ll take you to her.” Lucy began to follow the nurse down the hallway. “Actually,” the nurse said. “Would you be up to kangaroo cuddling with her? Being so young, she definitely hasn’t had skin to skin with anyone, and skin to skin is very beneficial to an infant as young as her.” 

Lucy found herself nodding immediately. “Of course, whatever she needs.” Lucy trailed after the nurse into the dark and quiet NICU room, glancing at the two other bassinets in the room, each with what she presumed to be family around them, either gazing into the bassinet, or holding their baby. Lucy’s eyes met the bassinet holding the baby she had found, and her heart broke seeing the infants tiny body with wires and tubes coming out of her body, even though she had much less equipment than the other two infants in the room. 

“She’s so small,” Lucy whispered, looking into the bassinet.

“She’s actually the biggest baby on the ward at the moment.” The nurse said, pointing to the chair for Lucy to sit in. 

“So she was full term then?” Lucy said as she laid her duty belt on the table next to her, and unbuttoning her uniform shirt. 

The nurse nodded. “Yes, she was. And perfectly healthy, other than the meth in her system, which is surprising. It seems that her mother did try to abstain from drug use while pregnant, but she most likely slipped up towards the end.” 

“Wow.” Lucy said, taking off her white undershirt and laying it on top of her uniform shirt. “That’s not something I see too often.”

“Me either,” The nurse agreed, as she lifted up the infant and tucked her legs up, bringing her over to Lucy. Lucy opened her arms, and let the nurse rest the baby on her chest. Lucy immediately wrapped her arms around the baby, cuddling her as close as she could without hurting her. The nurse then laid a light pink blanket over the two of them with a smile. 

“If you need anything, just press the nurses button, and someone will come and check on you. And I will come and get you as soon as DCFS or your superiors show up.” 

Lucy nodded, her eyes not leaving the baby. “Thank you.” The nurse nodded, and headed out of the room. Lucy slowly began rocking back and forth in the chair, looking intently at the baby, who was wiggling around, head bobbing up and down on Lucy’s chest as she tried to get comfortable. 

Once the baby found a comfortable position, she opened her tiny mouth in a big yawn, and shut her eyes, falling asleep within seconds on Lucy’s warm skin. Lucy chuckled quietly, and began rubbing her hand up and down on her back, letting her get some well deserved sleep. 

After a few minutes of silence, there was a crash in the hallway from a cart crashing into a wall, and the baby jolted awake, before bursting into tears. Lucy immediately sat up, and hushed the baby in her arms. 

“You’re okay, sweet girl,” she whispered. “I know, that was loud, huh?” The baby hiccuped, and her tears slowly began to stop. Her eyes were open, and Lucy smiled. “It’s okay.” She continued speaking to the infant. “You’re safe with me.” She leant down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. 

The baby yawned again, and Lucy smiled at her, cupping the back of her head, rubbing her thumb back and forth against her soft skin. 

“I remember tears streaming down your face when I said I’ll never let you go,” Lucy began to sing, her eyes not leaving the baby. “When all those shadows almost killed your light, I remember you said don’t leave me here alone.

“But all that’s dead and gone and passed tonight,” The baby didn’t move, just continued to stare up at Lucy as she sang. “Just close your eyes, the sun is going down. You’ll be alright, no one can hurt you now.” 

A lump formed in Lucy’s throat as she gazed down at the infant in her arms. She couldn’t understand how lucky she was that Lucy was near the warehouse when she was. Despite being in Los Angeles, it was still December, and the temperature plummeted at night time, and had she been out there a few more hours, she would have died. 

And now, this tiny, defenceless orphan, who’s life only started today, had no one. Had no mother, more than likely no father, and she was about to go into the foster care system if DCFS couldn’t find a next of kin within a few days. And what made it worse, was how Lucy was already dreading putting her down. She didn’t want to put this baby down. She wanted to keep holding this little girl. She wanted to take her home, love her, protect her, and raise her. 

She took a deep breath as the baby’s eyes fluttered shut, and fell back into a peaceful sleep. She thought about offering to take her in, at least until DCFS found next of kin for her, if they were able to at all. She could, she was an emergency foster parent, and had been since she turned 20. She had an apartment in a safe part of the city, and made more than enough money to support the two of them. 

“You’re gonna be okay,” she said to the baby. “You’re gonna come home with me, and I’m going to keep you safe. I promise.”