#I will say I loved the scene outside of the hospital with A-Train

[arealtrashact]

I watch a new episode of The Boys, I form an opinion, i tell my friends about it, i go to arealtrashact dot tumblr dot com to see what you think, repeat on Thursdays

This show jumping between being tolerable and devolving into a parody of itself is giving me whiplash but we endure.

We endure for this.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Injured (Alexia's Version) VII

Alexia Putellas x Child!Reader

Summary: You get sick again

For matches that aren't important and are played outside of Spain, you don't go with Mami.

You spend time with Olga and Jaume at home and watch Alexia on the tv.

Currently, she's in Germany for a friendly. It had been a good match, a draw that helped the staff work out rotations and different on-pitch chemistry between players.

Now though, Alexia has dipped out of dinner early to give her family a call.

Olga picks up, obviously. It's late in Spain but still a little too early for Olga to be dressed in her pyjamas.

"Hi," Alexia says," How are you? How are the kids?"

Olga gives her a little tight lipped smile. "We've got the case of the sniffles today."

The camera flips to display you and your brother.

Jaume has gotten older now and is developing at an alarming rate to Alexia. You hadn't hit your milestones for ages while Jaume seems to be hitting all of his early.

He's sitting up by himself and babbling and trying to crawl now and Alexia hates how quickly he's growing up.

He's in his pyjamas too, one of your very old train-patterned onesies, and he's sitting right next to you as you run one of your electric trains around the track.

Your hair is messy and sticking upright and your nose is all red and you keep sniffing and wiping at it.

Alexia's eyes dart to Jaume and she notices the red flush to his cheeks.

He sneezes suddenly and it seems to spark you into your own round of sneezes.

Something in Alexia's stomach curdles and she sits upright in bed.

"How bad is it? Are they okay? Have you taken them to the hospital yet?"

Flashes come to Alexia's mind, of that horrible time when you both had meningitis and all the horror that came with it.

"It's just the sniffles," Olga assures her but the swirling of her stomach doesn't stop," And some sore throats. They've had some medicine and we've been having a pj day today."

"I'll come home," Alexia says. She props her phone up on the table and starts packing. She doesn't even fold her clothes, just callously throwing them back into her suitcase.

"Alexia...We're fine here, I promise."

"No." Panic creeps into Alexia's body now, coursing through her veins like adrenaline. "No, I'll come home. It's fine. You can't be expected to take care of two sick kids at once and-"

"Olga?"

Your sweet voice on the phone cuts Alexia off and she falls silent.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"My head hurts."

"Oh, I'm sorry, bambi."

The phone moves until it's propped up on something and Alexia is greeted by the sight of Olga sitting down on the floor, pulling you into her lap.

Her hand immediately goes to check your temperature.

"We've got another hour before I can give you some more medicine," She says," Do you think you can last until them?"

You nod, picking up your controller and making your train whizz around the track again.

Jaume cocks his head to the side, looking between you and Olga before he bum shuffles even closer and attempts to clamber into your lap like you're sitting in Olga's.

It's a sweet scene and Alexia would have loved to coo over it had she not been racked with guilt at leaving while two sickly children were still at home.

She can't even understand how Irene leaves Mateo like this and he was more prone to illness than you and Jaume ever were.

The call lasts for hours and Alexia remains mostly silent.

You get to hold the phone while Olga takes Jaume to bed and you look at the screen with Alexia's face on it with a little frown.

"When are you coming home, Mami?"

You sound so hopeful that Alexia almost bursts into tears that instant, already feeling her throat closing up slightly.

She pushes through the feeling though and replies," Soon, bambi. I'm going to get on a flight as soon as it's your bedtime and I should be home by the time that you wake up."

You sniff though it only serves to make your nose feel even more stuffy. "Mami," You say," Are me and Jaume gonna have to go to hospital? I don't want to see the mean man again."

"No, bambi," Alexia assures you," You're not going to see the mean man. It's just the sniffles. You take your medicine and you'll be completely fine."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

Despite Olga's words, Alexia makes her excuses to the staff and gets the first flight back to Barcelona.

It's dark when she gets home and she orders a taxi to bring her right to the doorstep. She fiddles with her keys for a bit, completely missing the keyhole multiple times in her haste to get in.

Jaume's bedroom is first on her way up the stairs so Alexia dips into his room to check on him. He's peacefully asleep, cuddled up with one of the stuffed trains you gave him a few weeks ago.

His cheeks are still a little red and his nose is definitely blocked but apart from that he looks healthy enough and Alexia heads straight into your room.

It's dark so she picks her way through it carefully only to find that you're not in your bed.

You're sick and not in your bed.

Blind panic settles under Alexia's skin as she looks around wildly, tripping over your train track in her hurry to wrench open your wardrobe door.

You're not there either and Alexia stubs her toe as she forces your door open to burst into her own room, intent on telling Olga that someone's broken in and kidnapped you.

"Alexia?" Olga's wide awake, sitting up in bed with a book. "What is it?"

You're lying next to her, fast asleep though you look a tad distressed. Your hand is tight around the fabric of Olga's shirt and you're breathing heavily out of your mouth because your nose is all stuffed up.

"I came home," Alexia says.

"I know," Olga replies," I waited up."

"I checked on Jaume. He looks better."

"He is. They both are. Little miss just needed someone to sleep next to tonight. She was scared the doctor was coming to take her."

Alexia changes quickly, slipping into bed on your other side and curling around you.

"And you swear it's just the sniffles?"

"Just the sniffles," Olga says," They'll be good in a few days."

And you are.

Though Alexia hovers incessantly for almost a week afterwards.

[justabigassnerd]

Come Home To Us

Pairing - Tim Bradford x reader

Word count - 4,748

Warnings - angst, inaccurate hospital/police scenes, mentions of suicide, viruses, brief mention of Tim's father, swearing, mentions of Tim getting shot

Summary - Tim liked to keep his personal and work life separate, although a certain event was about to change that

A/N - hey y'all this was an anon request that was an honour to write and I will forever push the girl dad Tim agenda I'm not sorry in the slightest. anyways I won't ramble but as per y'all, please send in requests, feedback, and enjoy!!!

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Most of the Mid-Wilshire Police Department only knew Tim Bradford as the hard-ass training officer who never cracked a smile. They would see someone who had the toughest exterior known to man and assumed he was the same outside of work. But in actuality, Tim had a secret that very few knew about. And that secret was about to come out.

“Good morning, Tim.” Your sweet voice says softly as Tim blinks his eyes open, a smile coming to his face as his eyes lock with yours.

“Good morning, Baby,” Tim replies, instantly reaching across to wrap an arm around your waist, tugging you close so he can press a soft kiss to your lips as you giggle.

“You’re up earlier than usual.” Tim then muses with a light laugh as he notices the time on the clock behind you, knowing you always woke up after his alarm went off.

“Your daughter wanted a glass of water and who am I to deny her what she wants?” You reply, curling into Tim as he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“My daughter?” Tim asks, an amused tone to his voice, pulling away enough to be able to look down at you.

“She wakes up at the crack of dawn most mornings. She gets that from you.” You laugh, watching as Tim lets out a gentle laugh before giving you another soft kiss.

“Momma! Daddy!” You glance over your shoulder to see your little girl Mia rushing into your room, and you open up your arms to catch her when she launches herself onto yours and Tim’s shared bed.

“Good morning, Sweetheart.” Tim greets Mia with a smile as she clambers from your embrace to Tim’s, giggling as he peppers her face with kisses. You couldn’t help but smile as you watched Tim and Mia interact. You remembered how in your early stages of pregnancy, Tim had been terrified, he was scared he was going to end up like his own father or that something would happen to him and leave you alone with a baby to take care of. But the moment Mia was born and he held her in his arms for the first time, Tim knew that he would go through hell and back to protect his little girl. He wanted to give her the whole world and more. You saw how Tim took to being Mia’s dad easily, he loved her like it was breathing and he made sure he was a present parent in her life.

“Can I have breakfast, please?” Mia asks, looking between you and Tim with the puppy dog eyes that melted you both down in seconds.

“Let’s get you ready for preschool first, then we’ll make breakfast,” Tim says, scooping Mia up into his arms, and sitting her on his hip as he gets out of bed. As he takes Mia back to her room to get her ready for the day, you get up and begin to change yourself, readying yourself for the day before heading out to the kitchen to begin making breakfast.

“Momma! Daddy said I could help make breakfast!” Mia comes hurtling into the kitchen, excitedly looking up at you as you laugh.

“Of course, you can help, Sweetie. What would you like for breakfast?” You ask, finding the little stepstool so that Mia can reach the kitchen counter to assist you in making breakfast.

“Cereal please.” She requests as you nod, already handing her one of her favourite princess bowls. Mia reaches up to the cupboard you kept the cereal in while you watched carefully. Mia was only five years old but she was already growing in her independence, and you knew she got that from Tim. Despite that, she was the sweetest little soul who loved and cared for everyone around her and you couldn’t be prouder to have her as your daughter.

“You got it, Sweetie? Do you want me to grab you the milk?” You ask softly, resting your hand on Mia’s back as you watch her carefully pour some cereal into the bowl, her tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth in her concentration.

“Yes please, Momma,” Mia asks, satisfied with the amount of cereal she’s put in the bowl as she carefully places the box down. You press a soft kiss to the top of Mia’s head before heading over to the fridge to grab the milk for her as Tim enters the kitchen, smiling at you both and now dressed for the day.

“How’s breakfast making going?” Tim asks, crossing to you and capturing your lips in a soft kiss before letting you give the milk to Mia.

“You’re getting soft, you know?” You say with a laugh, thinking about the way Tim used to be when you first met him.

“Only for my family,” Tim says, hovering near Mia to supervise as she tries to pour the milk herself, eventually placing his hand on the carton and giving Mia a helping hand.

“I forget work doesn’t get the same privileges as us.” You tease, beginning to prep both your and Tim’s morning coffees, putting them into their respective travel mugs before making Mia’s packed lunch and filling a bottle with water for her.

As Mia eats her breakfast, Tim makes breakfast for you and him while you pack Mia’s bag with everything she’ll need for the day. You then join Tim and Mia at the table to eat your breakfast before noting the time when you’ve finished eating and tidied away.

“We should head out. Don’t want you to be late to preschool, do we?” You say, tickling Mia quickly, smiling as she squeals and squirms.

“Daddy, help!” Mia calls out for Tim to save her, making him scoop her up in his arms, holding her close as you laugh.

“I’ll protect you, Mia,” Tim says, holding her close as you roll your eyes jokingly.

“You can protect her by taking her to preschool, then.” You say, picking up Mia’s bag and holding it out towards Tim who takes it and slings the small strap over his shoulder.

“I can do that. Are you okay to collect her this afternoon?” Tim says, carrying Mia over to the shoe rack and helping her put her shoes on while you follow behind, grabbing your own work bag.

“Yeah, that’s perfectly fine.” You say, bending down as you gently brush Mia’s stray hair away from her face.

“Bye, Momma,” Mia says, throwing herself into your arms. You’re quick to hug her back, relishing the feeling of her clinging to you.

“Bye, Sweetie. I’ll see you this afternoon.” You whisper, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head before releasing her from the hug, straightening up to say goodbye to Tim.

“You’ll stay safe, won’t you? Come home to us?” You ask quietly so Mia doesn’t hear you.

“I always do. Nothing can stop me from coming home to you both.” Tim reassures you softly, placing his hands on your waist to pull you a little closer. He understood your fears, and he knew you’d been living with them for years. After Mia was born your worry only increased which made Tim all the more determined to get home to his family after every shift. And after the recent incident where Tim got shot, you worried about him even more.

“I love you.” You whisper softly just before Tim cups your face softly in his hands, pressing a kiss to your lips.

“I love you too.” He whispers after pulling away from the embrace, smiling down at you softly to reassure you that little bit more.

“Daddy, come on we need to go!” Mia’s little voice snaps you back to reality as she tugs on Tim’s jacket, making you both laugh.

“Okay, okay, you have a point. Let’s get going, Princess.” Tim says, taking Mia’s little hand in one hand while grabbing both his bag and hers with the other before heading out of the front door to take Mia to preschool and then head to work. A few minutes after Tim leaves, you grab your keys and bag then head out to your car so you can make your way to work. You worked at the local high school so you knew your day was going to be busy as you began the drive to work.

As you arrived at work you greeted your colleagues as you passed them in the corridors, making your way to your classroom, heading over to your desk and placing everything down so you can get on with your morning tasks. You spend time prepping your classes and making sure you’re ready for the day before your students begin to file into the room, all of them greeting you with a smile as they cross to their desks and settle in their seats.

The day progressed like any other, nothing you weren’t used to working in a high school. You taught your classes and caught up with your coworkers during lunch. Until your phone rang with an unknown number. Instantly filled with dread and assuming the worst, you excused yourself from your coworkers and accepted the call, walking to a quiet corner of the staff lounge.

“Hello?” You say into the phone, your throat drying up in anticipation of any bad news.

“Hello, is this Mrs. Bradford?” A nervous female voice asks.

“Yes, it is. Who am I speaking to?” You confirm before asking the woman on the other end of the line for her name.

“I’m Officer Lucy Chen. I’m Officer Bradford’s rookie.” Lucy introduced herself, pacing anxiously back and forth in front of the door she knew Tim was behind. You recognised Lucy’s name quickly as you recalled Tim talking about her.

“Is Tim okay?” Your voice was shaky as tears threatened to well up in your eyes. You knew Tim didn’t open up about his personal life to anyone at work outside of Angela and Wade so the fact he told his rookie about you was ringing alarm bells in your head.

“He- you know I’ll just let him tell you himself,” Lucy says, placing the phone by the gap under the door and putting you on speaker.

“Tim?” Your voice came through to the other room, making Tim perk up the slightest bit at hearing your voice.

“y/n?” Tim replies, making you let out a slight sigh of relief from hearing his voice, even if it was partially muffled.

“Tim, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” You ask, your fear evident in your voice as Tim leans his head back, resting it against the door.

“There’s been an incident. I don’t know if I’ll make it home tonight.” Tim says, trying to find the words to describe what’s going on without panicking you further.

“Tim, talk to me. What’s happened?” You plead, desperate for answers.

“Don’t tell anyone at work about this. But we found out there’s a group wanting to disperse a virus within the city. We tracked one of the weapons to this house after a guy picked it up by accident and he got sick and… he coughed on me. I’m quarantining in this room while we wait for the CDC but if I start showing any signs of the virus, I want to go out on my own terms. I don’t want to go through what I just saw this guy go through. I owe it to you to tell you that.” Tim says, and you feel a tear slip down your cheek at his words.

“No. You’ll be okay. You’re going to come home.” You say, lifting your free hand to wipe your tears away before anyone notices.

“But I might not. And I want you to be prepared for that outcome. Just promise me you’ll give Mia a hug from me and tell her I love her so much.” Tim says, fighting back the building tears at the thought of not seeing you or Mia again.

“You’ll tell her that yourself. Just hold on. You’ll be okay.” You beg, hoping that by some miracle the CDC will enter the room Tim is in and save him.

“I love you so much,” Tim murmurs softly.

“I love you too.” You whisper quietly in response.

“You go back to work, okay? I’ll have someone call you no matter what happens. I promise.” Tim says, and as much as you wanted to tell him no, to tell him that you wanted to come and sit with him and be by his side when he needed you. But you understood that he wanted you to keep busy, and for you to try not to worry about him too much, although that ship had already sailed.

“Okay. I love you.” You say, hearing Tim’s whispered response before you hang up the phone, wondering how you are going to get through the rest of the day with these thoughts in your head. You were thankful that after lunch you had a free period so you didn’t have to worry about teaching any classes and could focus on grading papers and making new lesson plans to get a head start. As you worked, you found your gaze being drawn towards the framed picture you have on your desk of you, Tim, and Mia. All you could do was hope that Tim would be okay, you had no idea how you’d tell Mia if anything happened to Tim. Mia was the biggest daddy’s girl and you knew it would crush her if you had to look her in the eye and tell her that her daddy wasn’t coming home.

“Please be okay, Tim.” You whisper, hoping that by some miracle, someone will hear your whisper and be able to save Tim. Halfway through your free period, your phone buzzed once more and this time you saw Angela’s name displayed across your phone screen and you scooped your phone up instantly, answering the call.

“Angela, please tell me he’s okay.” You plead, pacing your classroom anxiously as you wait for Angela to respond.

“He’s on his way to the hospital. The CDC got there and administered the vaccine but as he was leaving the house he passed out. He’s going to Shaw Memorial.” Angela explains as Jackson drives them to the hospital.

“I’m getting Mia and I’m coming to the hospital.” You say, shoving everything in your bag with little to no consideration for anything else but getting to Shaw Memorial.

“I’ll be waiting for you both,” Angela says with a nod, ignoring Jackson’s confused glances, bidding you goodbye before hanging up the phone.

After ending the call, you finish packing your bag and immediately make a beeline for the principal's office, knocking and entering with permission.

“Ah, y/n, what can I do for you?” He says with a friendly smile which falters when he notices your worried expression and the bag on your shoulder.

“Something’s happened with my husband. He’s in the hospital and I need to go and see him. I have lesson plans all written up in my desk so a substitute can step in I just need to go and see Tim.” You explain, trying not to sound too flustered but you also knew you were failing miserably.

“Of course, you can go. We should have someone available, I’ll track them down before the next period. You’re free to go. I hope everything is okay.” He says softly, holding up a hand to calm you down. When you process his words, you let out a small sigh of relief, your shoulders sagging in relief.

“Thank you so much, Paul.” You thank him gratefully, beginning to back away towards the door before saying a quick goodbye and rushing out to your car. You waste no time driving over to the preschool Mia is at, soon pulling up outside and heading into the reception.

“Mrs. Bradford, how can I help you?” The receptionist, Poppy greets you as you enter the room, her normal smile plastered on her face.

“I would like to pick Mia up early, please.” You say as you reach the front desk, bracing your hands on the desk.

“Is everything okay?” Poppy asks, picking up on your worried expression instantly.

“Tim’s in the hospital.” You say quietly and Poppy’s eyes widen slightly, making her nod as she gets up from her seat.

“I’ll go and get her.” She says quickly, excusing herself and heading off to find Mia and bring her to you. Poppy was only gone for about five minutes and soon returned with Mia skipping along by her side.

“Momma!” Mia exclaims happily, rushing into your outstretched arms as you crouch down to catch her in your arms.

“Hi, Sweetie.” You greet her, trying not to let your voice wobble with emotion as you straighten up, taking her hand in yours and taking her bag from her with your spare hand as you thank Poppy before walking Mia out to your car, helping her into her car seat and buckling her in.

“Where are we going, Momma?” Mia asks, her voice filled with innocence as she watches you carefully. And as much as you wanted to protect her, you knew you couldn’t lie to her.

“Daddy’s in the hospital so we need to go and make sure he’s okay.” You explain, brushing some baby hairs away from her face as she frowns, eyebrows furrowing as she puts everything together in her head.

“Daddy’s hurt?” She asks quietly, making you realise she was thinking of when Tim was last hurt on the job.

“I’m not sure, Sweetie. The doctors will tell me what’s happened when we get there and then we can check on him.” You say softly, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to the top of her head before you get behind the wheel, driving to the hospital. When you find a place to park, you help Mia out of the car, walking alongside her hand in hand while you call Angela, letting her know where you’re entering the hospital so she can meet you. It took you less than five minutes to locate Angela.

“Auntie Angie!” Mia calls out, rushing over to Angela who scoops Mia up in her arms, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“Hey, Mia.” Angela greets you with a smile before looking over at you.

“How is he?” You ask quietly, watching Angela’s reaction carefully.

“He seems to be okay. He woke up before they got him into the hospital. He actually helped one of our rookies out of a tough spot. The doctors are waiting for you, I’ll keep an eye on Mia. I think you need some time alone with Tim first.” Angela says, causing you to let out a sigh of relief as you thank Angela quietly before crossing to the nurse's desk.

“Hello, I’ve been told my husband, Tim Bradford has been brought here. Can I see him?” You ask, watching as the nurse glances at you with a smile.

“Let me just get the doctor for you.” They say, paging the doctor who arrives in what feels like record time and quickly locates you still standing by the desk.

“Mrs. Bradford?” The doctor greets you softly, making you turn to face him with a smile and a nod.

“Yes. Is Tim okay?” You ask, desperate for answers.

“Your husband is okay. All his test results have come back clear and an allergic reaction to the vaccine caused his passing out.” The doctor explains, a smile on her face as you nod, happy tears coming to your eyes.

“Can I see him? Is that okay?” You ask, your fingers drifting to your wedding ring as you twist it nervously around your ring finger.

“Yes, you may. Follow me and I’ll take you to his room.” She says with a nod, turning and leading you to a room, stopping by the door and encouraging you to head in. After a deep breath, you open the door and head into the room.

“y/n.” Tim breathes out softly from where he is sitting on the hospital bed. You didn’t respond at first, instead striding across the room, sitting alongside Tim on the bed, grabbing his face in your hands and kissing him strongly. You had no words for how relieved you were to see Tim alive and well so all you could do in this moment was kiss him.

“You scared the shit out of me.” You whisper, pulling away enough to speak, your lips brushing up against his as your hands drop from Tim’s face to his shoulders.

“I’m sorry. I promise it was never my intention to scare you. I thought today was going to be an easy day at work.” Tim admits quietly, lifting a hand to cup your cheek in his hand and brush a thumb over the apple of your cheek softly.

“Last time you said that was after you got shot. Maybe you should stop assuming work’s going to be easy.” You weakly attempt to joke, pulling back a little more as Tim lets out a light chuckle, dropping his hand from your cheek, reaching up and taking one of your hands in his, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles rhythmically.

“Sounds like I should,” Tim says softly. There was then a slight lull in conversation as you thought of what Tim had said to you on the phone earlier.

“Did… did you mean what you said about going out on your own terms? Would you have really-” You cut yourself off, tears already stinging your eyes at the mere thought of Tim taking his own life.

“If you had seen what that virus did to a person, you’d understand why it was a serious consideration. I didn’t want to go through what I had just seen that guy Peter go through. That virus was horrible, I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.” Tim explains, his eyes never leaving yours for a second as you nod lightly.

“So, you don’t feel like that normally? It was only because you thought you were sick with that virus?” You ask, watching Tim’s expression carefully.

“I promise you I don’t ever have thoughts like that. I’ve never been happier with my life than I am now. You and Mia are my life and you both make me so unbelievably happy. I promise.” Tim says, squeezing your hand to exaggerate his point. At his words, you nod, lifting your free hand to wipe the threatening tears away.

“You’d tell me if you ever felt like that. Wouldn’t you?” You ask softly, watching as Tim nods.

“Of course,” Tim whispers. Part of you knew that Tim had a tendency to keep his struggles to himself, but since starting a relationship with you he had gotten better at opening up about things so you at least had some comfort in the knowledge that he was more likely to come to you about any problems. With everything now discussed, you looked at Tim with a soft smile before speaking.

“Would you like to see Mia? She’s with Angela in the waiting room.” You say, not missing how Tim’s eyes lit up at the mention of his daughter.

“She’s here?” He asks, watching as you nod with a smile.

“I’ll go and grab her now.” You say, standing up and pressing a quick kiss to the top of Tim’s head before exiting the room and heading back to the waiting room where you see Mia sitting on a chair as a female police officer stands behind the chair as she did Mia’s hair. You didn’t know who this officer was but judging by everyone’s smiles, she was a good one.

“Momma! Look! Lucy did my hair!” Mia exclaims excitedly, hopping off the chair and showing off the braids she now had in her hair and when you hear Mia name the police officer, you realise that she must be the one who called you earlier.

“It’s very pretty, Mia! Did you thank Lucy?” You ask, guiding Mia back towards the group of gathered police officers.

“Thank you, Lucy!” Mia chirps, rushing over to the rookie who smiles and shakes her head.

“No need to thank me. Mia’s a sweetheart.” Lucy at first says to Mia before looking up at you and directing her next sentence to you.

“Aw thank you. But in all seriousness, I should be thanking you for calling me about Tim in the first place.” You thank Lucy gratefully, feeling like you owe her so much.

“Tim asked me to call you for him. All I did was dial the number.” Lucy says in an attempt to downplay what she did.

“You still let me know about what happened. That means a lot.” You say, smiling at Lucy who nods with a shy smile of her own.

“I’d love to spend time chatting but I promised Tim I’d bring Mia to see him. But I would love to get to know you all properly at some point.” You say apologetically, taking Mia’s hand in your own and bidding the gathered officers a hurried goodbye before heading off in the direction of Tim’s hospital room. As they watch you leave, Nolan and Jackson move to stand by Lucy’s side.

“Tim had a whole secret family and no one knew but Angela?” Jackson asks, glancing over at his training officer who shrugs with a grin.

“It helps to be the one who introduced them,” Angela says proudly, making the rookies exchange a look.

“She’s basically the polar opposite of Tim,” Nolan says, wondering why Angela had thought you and Tim would’ve made a good couple.

“They say opposites attract and I just knew y/n and Tim would work,” Angela says, folding her arms across her chest as the other rookies begin to bombard her with questions.

Meanwhile, you led Mia to Tim’s hospital room, opening the door and encouraging her to enter the room, seeing how she smiled upon seeing her dad.

“Daddy!” She says happily, rushing over to Tim’s bedside as Tim smiles widely.

“Hi, Sweetheart,” Tim says, holding an arm open to encourage Mia to hop up alongside him but you both see her hesitation as you pull up a chair alongside the bedside, settling into it. You exchange a glance with Tim before you realise why it is she was hesitating to join Tim.

“You’re not going to hurt Daddy, Sweetie.” You say softly. You remembered how when Tim got shot and was in the hospital last, Mia had rushed into his hospital room and nearly jumped up alongside him so you had warned Mia to be careful and to not jump on him while he was hurt.

“I’m not hurt, Princess. I promise.” Tim says, smiling softly at your daughter as he extends his arm out once again, and this time Mia carefully climbs up on the bed alongside him and curls into his embrace, resting her head on his chest.

“How long have you got off this time?” You ask lightly as Tim runs a hand up and down Mia’s back.

“At least two weeks,” Tim says, remembering what the doctor had told him just so they could play on the side of caution.

“Oh good, that’s plenty of time for you to reconsider my idea of getting a dog.” You say with a smile, watching as Tim jokingly glares at you while Mia perks up.

“Yes! Get a dog!” She says excitedly, curling up closer to Tim and attempting to give him puppy dog eyes.

“We’ve been over this,” Tim says, looking pointedly at you as you smile innocently.

“Please, Daddy.” Mia pleads, cuddling impossibly closer as Tim rolls his eyes jokingly.

“I will consider it.” Tim concedes, sighing as you and Mia share a high-five. As you settle back in your seat, you reach across and rest your hand atop Tim’s free hand, smiling as you watch him press a gentle kiss atop Mia’s head.

As you watched Tim interacting with Mia, you were filled with overwhelming gratitude that Tim was okay. He was so important to you and Mia and you dreaded the mere thought of him not being around anymore. But he was alive and healthy, and you knew that he would not let anything get in between him and his family.

He’d always make his way home to you.

[jburrgf]

Easily.

Don’t you tell me it wasn’t mean to be, call it quits, call it destiny. Just because it won’t come easily, doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try.

pairing: joe burrow x reader

summary: friends to lovers, childhood friendship, reunion, patient x nurse, first love, a lot of fluff

description: after playing with his nephews, joe strained his ankle and ran to the ER. but he didn’t though he was going to meet his childhood best friend there.

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It was past midnight, the time when the world outside the hospital walls seemed to stand still. Inside, though, it was a different story. The fluorescent lights buzzed quietly above me as I made my way down the hallway of the ER. My feet ached, the usual dull throb that comes after ten hours on your feet, but it was nothing I wasn’t used to. Nights like this were routine, predictable even, and I had learned to find comfort in the chaos.

I adjusted my stethoscope and glanced at the clock above the nurse’s station—1:37 AM. Still hours to go. The hum of monitors and the occasional beeping of machines filled the space, blending into the background noise I’d grown accustomed to over the years. My shift had been steady, a couple of minor accidents, a handful of routine check-ups, nothing too serious. Until the doors of the ER flew open, and everything changed.

I didn’t look up right away, too focused on updating a patient’s chart, but the sudden rush of voices—urgent, yet not panicked—caught my attention. I turned to see two nurse helping a patient to get on a stretcher, their faces set in calm determination. One of them was giving a brief rundown to the admitting nurse.

“Thirty minutes ago, pickup football game. Possible sprained ankle, maybe a mild concussion, conscious the whole time, though.”

I barely glanced at the patient on the stretcher at first, but then something made me pause. The man lying there was in a football jersey, but it wasn’t the jersey that gave me pause—it was his face. He had one hand pressed against his head, his eyes half-closed in obvious discomfort. But it wasn’t the injury that had my heart skipping a beat. It was him.

Joe Burrow.

The name echoed in my mind before I could stop it. Joe Burrow, Joey, my childhood friend, the boy who lived down the street, the one I used to spend all my summer afternoons with before life drifted us apart. The boy who had grown into one of the NFL’s brightest stars.

And now, apparently, my patient.

I blinked, trying to process the scene in front of me. Joe Burrow, here, in my ER, in the middle of the night, looking very different from the kid I used to race bikes with down the block.

"Y/N, can you take this one?" The nurse's voice broke through my daze, and I nodded, my training kicking in despite the sudden rush of memories swirling in my mind.

I approached the stretcher, my steps slower than usual, my mind still catching up with the present. Joe hadn’t noticed me yet. He was too busy wincing as one of the paramedics adjusted the ice pack on his ankle. My hands trembled slightly as I picked up his chart, scanning it quickly.

“Joe Burrow,” I said softly, almost testing the name out loud to see if it would break the spell of disbelief hanging over me.

At the sound of my voice, his head turned, and for a brief moment, his eyes were unfocused, likely from the mild concussion they suspected. But then his gaze sharpened, recognition flickering in his eyes. He blinked, then squinted, as if trying to place me, and I saw the exact moment it clicked.

“Y/N?” His voice was rough, slightly hoarse from exertion, but there was a hint of surprise there, maybe even something softer—something familiar.

“Yeah, it’s me,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady, professional, even though my heart was doing somersaults in my chest. “Looks like you’ve had quite the night.”

He let out a short, breathy laugh, the corners of his mouth tugging up into a small smile despite the pain etched across his face. “You could say that.”

For a moment, we just stared at each other, the years between us hanging in the air like something tangible. It felt like an eternity since we’d last seen each other, though in reality, it had only been... What, ten years? Maybe more? The boy I remembered was long gone, replaced by the man lying in front of me — taller, broader, more grown-up in every way. But the spark in his eyes was the same, that playful glint that always used to get us into trouble.

I cleared my throat, trying to shake off the lingering sense of nostalgia. “Let’s get you checked out. You said you were playing football?”

“Yeah, with my nephews,” Joe replied, wincing again as he shifted on the stretcher. “Thought I’d show them a few moves, but I guess I got a little too into it.”

“Sounds like you haven’t changed much,” I teased, grabbing the clipboard to make notes. “Still trying to prove you’re the toughest one out there?”

He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes this time. “Some things don’t change.”

As I moved to assess his injury, my hands were steady, but my mind raced with questions. How had he ended up here, in this hospital, on this night? And how had we managed to go so long without crossing paths again? Life had taken us in such different directions, but in this moment, it felt like the universe had pushed us back together.

“Alright,” I said, snapping back to the present. “Let’s take a look at that ankle.”

I knelt down beside the stretcher to examine his ankle. The swelling was already visible, and the skin around it was starting to turn a soft shade of purple. It didn’t seem like anything too serious, but given the hit to his head, he’d probably need to stay overnight for observation. My fingers brushed against his skin as I checked for tenderness, and I couldn’t help but notice how much he’d changed. Stronger, tougher than the lanky boy I remembered, but still the same person, somewhere underneath all that.

“This looks like a sprain,” I said, grabbing an Ace bandage from the tray beside me. “We’ll get you some crutches and probably keep you here for a bit to monitor your head injury. How does your head feel? Any dizziness or nausea?”

He grimaced slightly. “Just a headache. Nothing too bad, though. I’ve had worse hits.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like I should be more worried about your career than this injury.”

His laugh was soft, but it was there. “Maybe, but I think I can survive a game with some six-year-olds.”

I wrapped the bandage around his ankle carefully, trying not to let my hands shake. It was bizarre how easily we fell into conversation, even after all these years. We’d lost so much time, and yet it felt oddly natural to be here with him, even if it was under the fluorescent lights of an emergency room.

Once I finished wrapping his ankle, I stood up and met his eyes again. There was a question in them, unspoken but heavy in the silence that followed.

“So…” Joe began slowly, his voice quieter now, as if we were stepping into more uncertain territory. “How long has it been?”

“Since we last saw each other?” I asked, tilting my head as I thought back. “I don’t know… over ten years, I think.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right.” He shifted his weight slightly, sitting up more on the stretcher. “I meant to stay in touch, you know. Things just got… crazy.”

I could see the apology in his eyes, though he didn’t say the words outright. And I understood. Life had a way of sweeping you up, pulling you in directions you never saw coming. He had his NFL career, the spotlight, the pressure. I had my nursing career, the long hours, the exhaustion that came with it. Still, there was a small part of me that wondered how different things might have been if we’d made more of an effort. If I had.

“Yeah,” I said, offering him a small smile. “Life does that.”

There was a beat of silence, not uncomfortable but reflective. We were both thinking about the past, the what-ifs and the roads we didn’t take. But before I could dwell on it too long, Joe spoke up again, breaking the tension.

“You look good,” he said, his tone genuine but light. “Not much has changed. Except the scrubs, maybe.”

I laughed softly, grateful for the shift in conversation. “I could say the same about you. Except maybe… all of this,” I gestured vaguely to him—the athletic build, the worn jersey, the presence that came with someone used to being in the spotlight.

“Yeah, I guess I’ve changed a little,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “But you know, underneath all of this, I’m still the same guy who used to lose every bike race to you.”

I smirked. “Oh, I remember. You hated losing.”

“I still do.” His eyes sparkled with that playful glint I recognized so well.

We fell into a comfortable rhythm after that, talking about everything and nothing as I finished up his assessment. It was strange how easy it was, how natural it felt to slip back into the banter we used to share. I’d always liked that about Joe—he made you feel at ease, like no matter how much time passed, nothing between us had really changed.

As I finished updating his chart, the doctor on call came over to check him out, confirming what I’d suspected: Joe would need to stay overnight for observation, just to be safe. I told him I’d come back once I was done with my rounds, but I could still feel his eyes on me as I walked away.

[…]

Couple hours passed, the usual rhythm of the ER taking over once again. But every now and then, I found my thoughts drifting back to Joe. He was resting in one of the private rooms now, probably bored out of his mind. And for some reason, I felt compelled to check on him, even though I knew he didn’t really need me. It was something about seeing him again—after all this time, after all we’d been through separately—that made me want to stay close, to not let this second chance slip away.

By the time I finally had a break, it was close to 4 AM. The hospital had quieted down, the late-night lull settling in. I made my way back to Joe’s room, my heart beating a little faster than I’d like to admit. I told myself it was just a routine check-up, nothing more. But deep down, I knew it was more than that.

When I pushed open the door, Joe was awake, staring at the ceiling, his expression lost in thought. His head turned at the sound of my entrance, and a small smile crossed his lips when he saw me.

“Hey,” he said, sitting up slightly. “Back to check on me again?”

I leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Can’t leave you alone for too long. Who knows what kind of trouble you’ll get into.”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Thanks for taking care of me, Y/N. I mean it.”

I shrugged, trying to keep things light, but there was something about the way he said it that made my chest tighten just a little. “Just doing my job.”

He studied me for a moment, his eyes searching mine like he was trying to figure something out. “It’s been good seeing you again. I didn’t think I’d run into you like this, but… I’m glad I did.”

“Me too,” I admitted, my voice quieter now. The air between us felt heavier, like there was more to be said, but neither of us knew exactly how to say it.

For a while, we just talked—about life, work, the things that had happened since we last saw each other. Joe opened up about the pressures of being in the NFL, how sometimes it felt like everything was spinning too fast and he couldn’t slow it down. I shared a little about my life too, about how nursing had become my world and how hard it was to balance that with anything else. We were both a little vulnerable, a little raw in the way you could only be when the rest of the world was asleep and you were left with nothing but your thoughts and the quiet of the night.

The conversation between us flowed easily, like slipping back into a comfortable rhythm. There was something about talking to Joe in the middle of the night, the world outside the hospital walls so still, that made the years between us seem to melt away. It was like we were kids again, sitting on the porch steps after a long day of playing outside, just talking about anything and everything.

“So, you stayed in Cincinnati?” Joe asked, shifting on the hospital bed to sit up more comfortably.

I nodded. “Yeah, never really left. Got into nursing school here and stuck around. I like the pace of it. My family’s here, too.”

He smiled softly. “It’s good that you stayed close to them. I’ve missed a lot of that, being away.”

I could hear the hint of longing in his voice, the weight of the sacrifices he’d made for his career. Joe had always been focused, even when we were kids. When he said he was going to be a football player, I believed him because he believed it with his whole heart. But I could see now, in his eyes, that the road had taken a toll.

“You’re always traveling, huh?” I asked, curious.

“Yeah, pretty much,” he replied. “It’s part of the job, but it gets lonely sometimes. The only time I get back home is for the off-season, and even then, it’s not much.

I bit my lip, unsure of what to say. He was living the dream, the one we’d all seen coming, but it was clear there was a price. I hadn’t thought much about that before, what his life must be like now. To everyone else, he was Joe Burrow, NFL star, the guy who won championships. But sitting here, under the soft glow of the hospital room lights, he just seemed like the same boy I used to know—the one who liked backyard football and riding bikes through the neighborhood.

“It’s not easy, is it?” I asked softly, sensing the exhaustion behind his smile. “Being Joe Burrow.”

He looked at me, his eyes locking on mine, and for a moment, I saw something vulnerable there—something real. He sighed, running a hand through his hair, wincing slightly as he touched the sore spot on his head.

“It’s not always what people think,” he admitted quietly. “Don’t get me wrong, I love it. Football’s everything to me. But there’s so much more that comes with it—the pressure, the expectations. Sometimes it feels like I’m always on. Like I can’t just...be.”

His words hung in the air between us, raw and unguarded. I hadn’t expected him to open up like this, but maybe that’s what the night did to people. Maybe it made us feel safe enough to say the things we wouldn’t admit in the daylight.

“I get that,” I said after a beat. “In a different way, I mean. Being a nurse… it’s all-consuming sometimes. I see my family when I can, but I’m always here, always on call. You start to lose parts of yourself, you know?”

Joe nodded, his eyes softening as he listened. “Yeah. It’s like you give so much of yourself to what you do that there’s not much left for anything else.”

I swallowed, realizing how true that was for both of us. We’d grown up chasing different dreams, but somehow, we’d both ended up feeling the same way—exhausted, a little lost, trying to figure out how to balance it all.

Silence fell between us for a moment, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the kind of silence that comes when two people are just...understanding each other. No need for words, just a shared recognition of something deeper.

I laughed softly, and the tension between us seemed to ease a little. It was strange how easy it was to be around him again, like no time had passed at all. But there was also something new between us now—something unspoken but very real.

“Thanks for taking care of me,” he said again, his voice quieter this time, more serious. “I don’t know if I said that already, but... I mean it.”

“You’re welcome,” I said, meeting his gaze. “It’s my job, after all.”

Joe shook his head, a slight smile playing on his lips. “No, I mean... thanks for being here. I needed this. More than I realized.”

The quiet of the night wrapped around us, like the world outside had fallen away and left just the two of us in this small, dimly lit room. I sat down on the edge of the chair beside Joe’s bed, my mind still buzzing with everything we’d talked about—the years that had passed, the memories we shared, and the things we’d never said.

I watched him for a moment, noting the way his face softened when he wasn’t wearing that confident, composed mask that the public always saw. He looked more like the boy I used to know, the one who’d always been up for an adventure, always quick with a joke or a grin. But now, there was a weight behind his eyes that hadn’t been there before, a heaviness that came from carrying the expectations of an entire city on his shoulders.

“How do you do it?” I asked quietly, my voice almost a whisper in the stillness of the room.

Joe’s brow furrowed, and he turned his head to look at me. “Do what?”

“Handle the pressure,” I said, gesturing vaguely to him, to the life he lived now. “Everyone watching you, expecting so much from you all the time. Doesn’t it get overwhelming?”

He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah. It does.” His voice was low, almost hesitant, like he wasn’t used to admitting that to anyone. “I mean, I love the game. I wouldn’t trade it for anything. But sometimes, it feels like it’s all moving so fast, and I’m just trying to keep up.”

I nodded, understanding more than I thought I would. It wasn’t the same as the pressures he faced, but I knew what it felt like to be stretched thin, to feel like there was never enough time or energy to meet everyone’s expectations.

“There are moments,” he continued, “when I think back to when we were kids, and everything was just… easier, you know? No pressure, no cameras, no one expecting anything from me except to show up and play. It felt simple back then.”

I smiled at the memory, my mind drifting back to those endless summer days when we’d race our bikes down the street or spend hours at the park, just the two of us against the world. “Yeah, it was simpler. We didn’t have a care in the world.”

Joe looked at me, something softer in his gaze now. “You know, I’ve thought about you a lot over the years.”

That caught me off guard. I blinked, my heart skipping a beat at the unexpected confession. “You have?”

He nodded, his eyes searching mine. “Yeah. I mean, I’ve kept up with you a little, here and there, through social media and stuff. But it wasn’t the same. I always wondered what happened—why we lost touch.”

I shifted in my seat, feeling a small pang of guilt. “I wondered the same thing sometimes. Life just got in the way, I guess.”

Joe smiled, but there was a sadness to it. “Yeah. But it’s good to see you now. Even if I had to get knocked out by a bunch of kids to do it.” He was quiet for a moment, like he was working up the courage to say something. Then, his voice dropped even lower, almost like he was afraid to let the words out. “You were… my first love, you know. Back when we were fourteen.”

The room seemed to still completely, and for a moment, I wasn’t sure I’d heard him right. My breath caught in my throat, and my heart thudded in my chest. “What?”

Joe met my gaze, his expression open, vulnerable in a way I hadn’t seen before. “I never told you back then, but you were. I had the biggest crush on you. I was too scared to say anything, though, so I just... never did.”

My mind was reeling, flashes of our time together when we were kids playing in my head—the way he’d always try to impress me, the way he’d get competitive when we played games, the times we’d sit in the park talking about anything and everything. And now, it all made sense.

“Joe…” I started, my voice soft, unsure of what to say. “I had no idea.”

He laughed a little, though there was a hint of nervousness in it. “Yeah, well, I wasn’t exactly smooth back then. I thought maybe you figured it out when I kept challenging you to races just to spend more time with you.”

I laughed softly, the sound easing some of the tension between us. “I just thought you really hated losing.”

“I did,” he admitted, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “But I hated the idea of not being around you even more.”

There was something so honest about the way he said it, and it hit me in a way I hadn’t expected. All this time, I’d thought we were just two kids having fun, never realizing that there was more beneath the surface. And now, sitting here with him all these years later, it felt like a door had opened, revealing all the things we hadn’t said back then.

“I used to think about you a lot too,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “After you moved away for college, I wondered what would’ve happened if we’d stayed in touch.”

His eyes softened, and he reached out, his hand brushing against mine where it rested on the edge of the bed. His touch was warm, grounding, and my breath hitched at the contact.

“I don’t know,” he said quietly, his thumb brushing over the back of my hand. “But maybe we can find out now.”

For a moment, I couldn’t speak. The air between us felt charged, like the years we’d spent apart had collapsed into this one moment, and everything was suddenly within reach—everything we hadn’t said, everything we hadn’t done.

I looked into his eyes, searching for something—an answer, maybe, or just the courage to let myself feel what I was feeling. And what I felt was undeniable. All those years ago, when we were kids, I hadn’t realized what was growing between us. But now… now I could feel it, and it was as real as the heartbeat thrumming in my chest.

“You really had a crush on me, huh?” I asked, trying to lighten the moment, though my voice wavered slightly.

Joe laughed softly, but there was nothing teasing in his gaze. “Yeah. And maybe I still do. And I know it can sound weird, but I know you don’t have anyone now. So I think it’s ok if I hit on you… I guess.”

The room seemed to shrink around us, the world outside fading away until it was just the two of us. I felt the warmth of his hand against mine, and for the first time in a long time, I let myself wonder what could happen—what this could mean.

The moment hung between us, heavy with everything unsaid. Joe’s hand lingered on mine, his thumb tracing slow circles that sent a warmth through me I hadn’t felt in years. It was surreal, sitting here in the quiet of the hospital room, realizing how much had passed between us, and how much still remained.

“So,” Joe said after a beat, his voice softer now, almost tentative. “Maybe it’s time we don’t lose touch again.”

I looked up at him, my heart still racing, a small smile playing on my lips. “What are you saying, Joe?”

He held my gaze, his expression serious but hopeful. “I’m saying… I want to see you again. Outside of this hospital.” His smile grew slightly, a little more of that old playfulness creeping back into his voice. “Maybe when I’m not half-concussed and in a hospital gown.”

I laughed at that, though my stomach fluttered at the idea of it. “You’re asking me out?”

“Yeah,” he said, more confidently this time, his eyes never leaving mine. “I’m asking you out, Y/N. I don’t want to miss out on this again. I don’t want to wonder what would’ve happened if we’d given this—us—a real shot.”

His words hit me harder than I expected. There was something so earnest in the way he said it, like he’d been carrying this feeling for a long time. And maybe I had been too. All these years, I’d tucked away those memories, convinced that whatever we could have had was lost in the past. But now, sitting here with him, it felt like the door had opened again.

I hesitated, not because I didn’t want to say yes, but because this felt big. It wasn’t just a casual date—it was a reconnection with the person who had been a part of some of the best years of my life.

“Joe…” I started, unsure of how to put my feelings into words.

He squeezed my hand gently, his eyes soft and understanding. “I know. It’s a lot. But I don’t want to let you slip away again, Y/N. Not this time.”

I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment, and then nodded. “Okay. Let’s give it a shot.”

His smile lit up the room, and it sent a rush of warmth through me. “Really?”

“Yeah,” I said, my own smile widening. “I think we owe it to ourselves to see what happens.”

His words hung in the air, and I felt my heart skip a beat. There was something in the way he was looking at me—something different from how he used to look at me when we were kids. It was deeper now, more intense, like he was seeing me for the first time in a long time, really seeing me.

Before I could say anything, the doctor stepped in, clearing his throat as he entered the room. The moment broke, and I stepped back, letting the doctor check Joe’s vitals one last time. The distraction gave me a moment to breathe, to calm the fluttering in my chest that his words had caused.

“Alright, Joe,” the doctor said after a brief exam. “Everything looks good. You’re clear to go, but take it easy for a few days, alright? No more football with the nephews.”

Joe grinned. “No promises, doc.”

The doctor chuckled, handing me the discharge paperwork. “He’s in your hands now, Nurse Y/N. Make sure he behaves.”

“I’ll try,” I said with a smirk, shooting Joe a playful look.

As the doctor left, I turned back to Joe, holding the paperwork in my hands. “Looks like you’re free to go.”

Joe nodded, though there was a glimmer of something playful in his eyes. “I guess that means you get to help me to my car, too.”

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t stop the grin that tugged at my lips. “Don’t push your luck, Burrow.”

He sat on the edge of the bed, his ankle wrapped and his movements slow as he tested his balance with the crutches the nurse had given him. I stood by the door, watching as he struggled for a second, clearly still groggy from his head injury.

“Need a hand?” I asked, crossing my arms and raising an eyebrow.

He glanced up at me, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “I think I’m good, but if you want to help, I’m not going to say no.”

I laughed, stepping forward and looping my arm around his back, steadying him as he got to his feet. His arm draped over my shoulder, and I could feel the warmth of his body next to mine, a small reminder of how close we were.

We made our way down the hallway slowly, Joe leaning on me more than he probably needed to, though I didn’t mind. As we stepped outside, the cool morning air greeted us, fresh and quiet, the world still waking up. Joe’s black SUV was parked a few steps away, and I helped him hobble over to the passenger side.

“You really don’t have to help me into the car, you know,” he said, though there was no real protest in his voice.

“Just shut up and let me do my job,” I teased, opening the passenger door and carefully guiding him as he eased himself into the seat. His face tightened in discomfort for a moment as he shifted his injured ankle into the car, but I held onto him, making sure he was steady.

“Thanks,” he said, his voice softer now, his eyes meeting mine. And for a moment, we just stood there, his hand still on my arm, our faces inches apart. The morning light cast a soft glow over everything, making it feel like we were in our own little world again, like there was nothing between us but the weight of this moment.

Without thinking, I leaned down slightly to help him adjust his seatbelt, and that’s when it happened. His hand slipped from my arm to my waist, his grip firm but gentle, pulling me just a little closer. I froze, my breath catching in my throat, and when I looked up, his eyes were locked on mine, something intense and unspoken passing between us.

Before I could say anything, before I could even think, Joe leaned in, his lips brushing mine in the softest, most unexpected kiss. It wasn’t rushed or urgent, but it was full of everything we hadn’t said, everything we’d been holding onto for years. His hand tightened slightly on my waist, and I could feel the warmth of his body pulling me in.

I kissed him back, my heart pounding in my chest, my mind racing with all the memories of us, of the boy he used to be and the man he was now. And for that moment, nothing else mattered. Just him, just this.

When we finally pulled away, I could feel the flush on my cheeks, the air between us charged with the promise of something more. Joe smiled, that familiar, lopsided grin that made my heart skip a beat.

“Well,” he said, his voice soft but full of that teasing edge, “I guess that was a good start.”

I laughed, trying to steady my breath. “Yeah, I guess it was.”

“About that date…” Joe began, his eyes still locked on mine. “How about tomorrow night? Dinner? Maybe a chance to do this properly?”

I smiled, the excitement bubbling up inside me. “Tomorrow sounds perfect.”

He grinned, and for a moment, we were just two people who’d finally found their way back to each other, after all these years. As I stepped back, closing the passenger door, I felt lighter, like something had shifted between us—something good.

“Drive safe, Burrow,” I called out, stepping away as he started the engine.

Joe smirked, giving me a mock salute as he pulled out of the parking lot. “See you tomorrow, Y/N.”

And as I watched his SUV disappear down the quiet street, I couldn’t help but smile, feeling like this was only the beginning of something we’d both been waiting for.

——————————

we kinda lost today lol, but I wanted to give this one for you guys. love a fluffy joey in love with his best friend (wishing it was me).

[masonmontz]

hellooo everyone :) hope you like it

REMEMBER: english is not my first language

angst word count: 2,6k

✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹

Mason doesn't know when things started going wrong, but it's been a while.

Since that night.

The night a piece of Mason died, because before everything was beautiful and happy, and now he feels like everything is blue. Mason is not a melancholic person, but he doesn't know how to get out of it when no one is understanding what is happening to him.

“Hi, can you come to Manchester alone?” Mason asked his mother on the phone, and it was the first time in over a year that Mason had asked Debbie to come to him. Only her, because Mason needs a comfort that only Debbie can give him, the comfort that only a mother can give a child.

“I'm taking a train tomorrow” she replied and he nodded before hanging up, but not before answering several questions, and honestly Mason didn't want to answer any of them because he was too sad. 

Mason hung up the phone and went to the kitchen looking for something to eat, but he's a disaster at cooking and had no head to think, so he just picked up his phone and ordered Japanese food.

He wasn't really hungry, but if he didn't eat, he knew he would have terrible training tomorrow. Some days Mason just ate out of obligation, smiled out of obligation, talked because others talked to him, and he does everything like a robot.

Mason stood at the kitchen window and watched the rain falling outside. Winter was coming and Mason was going crazy, everything was strange, he finally returned to training after a few weeks injured, but not even that could make him happy.

Mason hasn't been able to feel happy for over a month. 

And he doesn't know when he'll be able to get over it.

✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹

“So, do you want to talk about it?” Debbie asked him the next day after he got back from training. She was sitting on the couch and Mason sat on the floor when he arrived, just to play with Ace for a bit. Debbie knew there was something very wrong with her son, Mason was silent, sad.

“Hum, yeah, of course, I just don’t know how” Mason sighed in frustration, for a month he has been mulling over the same thing in his head, surviving day after day, but he feels like he is about to explode. “It's hurting me, mum.”

Debbie felt sorry for him because he looked miserable. Mason sighed and lay on the floor, looking up at the ceiling above him.

“Let's start at the beginning, okay? Was it something between you and Y/n?”

Mason's heart sank when she spoke your name to him, because Mason had refused to talk about it for a month, and now he felt all the feelings rushing into his chest at once like bullets.

Debbie knew about you, you and Mason had only been together for a few months, but he seemed more in love than ever. 

“I was going to be a father” Mason whispered and the memory of that terrible night came rushing back to his head, a terrible place in his mind that he couldn't get out of on his own. “She lost our baby.”

“What?” Debbie couldn't hide her surprise and shock, because she didn't expect this. 

“It was my fault.”

Mason has been reliving that night in his head all the time, ever since he heard the doctor say the baby didn't survive. Mason remembers the feeling that was like several knives hitting him, he had never felt anything like it. Mason remembers the scene of you crying in the hospital bed, he can even hear the sobs when he closes his eyes, and that sound has terrified him every night.

“Why is it your fault, Mason?” Debbie asked, getting off the couch and sitting on the floor. Mason laid his head on Debbie's legs, feeling his heart ache as she stroked his hair, just like a mother does with a child. 

It was a very rainy night, Mason had an interview scheduled at Old Trafford and he decided he wouldn't go by car, as Bruno was also going and Mason asked to go with him. Bruno left first and Mason asked you to pick him up, but more than twenty minutes had passed and you still hadn't arrived, and Mason started to get worried, but he couldn't leave, because you could arrive at any moment.

But the only thing that arrived was a message from your number, but it wasn't you who wrote it. Mason's heart stopped at that moment as he read the message saying that your car had slid off the road and crashed, but you were fine, you just needed to go to the hospital because of the baby. 

Mason paid the Uber driver a lot more while he begged him to go faster because he was so worried he was biting his nails.

Shit, it was his fault, Mason shouldn't have asked you to pick him up in that heavy rain. Anyone knew it could be dangerous.

Mason ran through the halls after finding out which room you were in, and he sighed in relief when he saw you lying there without a scratch, but when you turned to head towards the door, Mason saw red eyes.

He didn't want to think the worst, but it was impossible.

“Hey, you good?” he approached, shaking, Mason's hands began to sweat. He was happy that you were alive, that you were okay.

You opened your mouth to respond, but a sob escaped your throat and you began to cry desperately. Mason sat on the hospital bed and hugged you, not caring that he was wet from the rain.

“How is our baby? Is everything fine?” 

Mason felt his heart break into a thousand pieces when you pressed your face against his chest and cried, and Mason felt trapped in a nightmare when he understood what had happened. You looked up and looked at Mason, you were inconsolable, suffering, and it was then that Mason realized that it was his fault.

“I lost- I lost our baby” he couldn't say anything, but you were squeezing Mason so tightly that he couldn't get away and get away from you. “I’m so sorry, Mason. I’m so sorry.”

Mason didn't know why you were apologizing. He didn't say anything, Mason didn't even let a tear fall, he couldn't cry when you were desperate in his arms.

“It wasn't your fault, Mason” Debbie said to Mason when he told her what had happened, and she wiped the tear that fell down her son's face. “Don’t say that ever again.”

“I shouldn't have asked her to pick me up, I should have taken an Uber or taxi and left her at home, safe.”

You would still be pregnant if it weren't for the car crash that caused you to lose the baby, and you wouldn't be sad right now, nor would Mason. And you wouldn't be separated either. You were going to have a beautiful baby, Mason thought it was a girl, and then he was going to have two of you.

Everything was ruined now, and it was all his fault.

Mason also can't forget your crying when he left you two days later like a coward, the guilt was consuming him and he accepted that you would be much better without him. He was a coward, Mason couldn't accept that he made you suffer like that, and that's why he decided to leave, so as not to cause any more damage to your life.

Mason didn't know what was worse, remembering you crying when you told him you had a miscarriage or when you were crying and begging him not to leave you. 

“Why did you leave her, Mason?” 

“Because I don't want to cause her any more suffering.”

“Mason, I'm your mother, and I'm not going to hide what I think about this. You're suffering, you think it's your fault but it's not, and I'm sure Y/n thinks the same.” Mason closed his eyes, it still hurt to think about it, and maybe it would never stop hurting. “I can't imagine your pain, losing a child is probably the greatest pain anyone can go through, even if the child hasn't been born yet.”

“But a mother's pain is probably greater, what if Y/n thinks it's her fault? Have you thought about that? I don't want to put any weight on your shoulders, but you left her at the worst moment of her life. She might be suffering much more without you than with you.”

“She's probably better off without me.”

“I'm only going to tell you this once. You know she loves you, that woman would do anything for you and I know you would do anything for her, don't ruin what was the best thing that ever happened to you because you're stubborn. I'm so sorry you lost a child, Mason, I'm truly sorry, it's a dream to be a grandmother again, but I'm not going to let you cry here alone when you could be by her side and you can get through this together.”

Mason cried. For the first time in a month he cried. Mason let out all the pain of losing his baby, crying eased the pain he had in his chest, but not the guilt.

Debbie let him cry and cried with him, because Mason was still her son and she didn't want to see any of her children suffer. She would let them all cry on her lap whenever they needed to.

“I don't want to make her sadder.” he confessed quietly and felt his mother's fingers in his hair. 

“You need to be with her, Mason, no one wants to go through this alone.”

“I think it was a girl.”

Mason could imagine a little girl running around the house, with hair the same color as him, but with your smile. She would definitely have your personality.

“I wish you had told me sooner that I was going to be a grandmother. I'm so sorry about that, Mason. I never wanted you to have to go through the pain of losing a child.”

“I feel like my heart has been crushed for a month.”

“Please go talk to her, she deserves an explanation and you don't deserve to go through this apart.”

✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹

You sighed when you felt a drop of rain fall on your face, walking faster to the entrance of the building where you live with some groceries in your hands. It still wasn't fast enough, because the rain got heavier and you got soaked as you tried to reach the building.

“Oh, Lord” you muttered to yourself when you reached the gate, and didn't even look ahead as you made sure no bags were ripped. 

You stopped when you saw Mason standing at the entrance of the building outside, staring at you. He was standing leaning against the wall, and you felt your heart race because you hadn't seen him in over a month. 

He had his hair shaved, and you knew it was because he took a hit to the head that caused him to get stitches. God, you loved him so much you could cry, and he was so beautiful and you hated him for leaving you.

Not even the rain bothered you at that moment, because you couldn't look at anything else but Mason. Mason pushed himself off the wall and walked towards you, but he called you to get out of the rain that had now left all your hair and clothes wet. 

“Hey” you said, handing the bags to Mason when he asked. “Do you want to come in?”

Of course, you couldn't help but notice the deep circles under his eyes, and Mason looked thinner than usual. You knew you looked just as bad as he did.

“If you don't mind, I want to.” 

Mason walked you to your apartment in silence, and you didn't know what to say. It was a surprise to see him there, it had been a terrible month and you still hadn't recovered. 

Mason put all the bags in the kitchen while you went to the bathroom to get a towel to dry yourself. Mason followed you when you went to your bedroom, and his desolate look on you warmed your heart, because you thought you were the only one who suffered with what happened, but Mason was there in front of you suffering.

“I'm going to take a shower” you mumbled and took off your clothes, knowing Mason was watching you. “Come with me?”

You didn't wait for Mason and went to the bathroom, turning on the hot water in the shower to take a long shower after the cold rain. You stepped into the shower and watched as Mason silently took off his clothes, and soon after he was in the shower with you.

“Why did you leave me?” you whispered looking at Mason. Mason opened his mouth to respond but he couldn't, he started crying and put his hands on his face. “Mason, it’s fine.”

“I’m so sorry, Y/n. I’m so sorry, please forgive me. It was my fault and-”

“What?” you asked, because you had no idea that Mason was blaming himself for what happened. “It wasn't your fault, what are you talking about?”

Mason knelt on the bathroom floor and wrapped his arms around your waist, crying into you as the hot water ran over you.

“I should have never asked you to come pick me, it's my fault, you lost our baby because of me.” God, you didn’t think you could feel this much pain. Mason had been blaming himself for a whole month, and you would never have let him go if you knew. You knelt in front of him and held his face in your hands.

“Listen to me, this wasn't your fault, it was an accident and accidents happen.” He shook his head and you rested his forehead against yours, hugging his neck. “Why did you leave me?”

“I didn't want you to hate me, I didn't want to make you suffer more.”

“I suffered more without you by my side.”

“Forgive me, please.”

“There's nothing to forgive, Mason. You lost a son too, I know this is hard for you too.”

“I shouldn't have let you go through this alone.”

“Never leave me again, please.”

“Never again, never again. I promise. I’m so sorry.” 

“I wish I was still pregnant.” you confessed, because it's true. You've lived very happy weeks since you found out about the pregnancy.

“I know, me too.” Mason left a kiss on your forehead and you held him closer to you. It was an intimate moment, two hearts hurting but finding healing together. “I love you, I’m so sorry.” 

“I love you, I’m sorry too.” you kissed Mason. “We'll get through this together, okay?”

“I'm sorry I was away from you for a month, you've been through hell alone.”

“Don't worry, you're with me now.”

You took a shower together, nothing more than small kisses, because you just wanted to spend time together. It was an important moment, Mason felt like he was forgiven even though he had nothing to be forgiven for, and you knew that now you could fully heal, Mason was once again with you.

Sometimes the bad times just show you that you're better together than you are apart, and Mason finally understood what his mum said, about healing together, and getting through everything together, both the good times and the bad times.

[herofics]

Hi do you do requests for continuations of fanfics you did 5 years ago😭.

For contacts it is the one about Aizawa's adopted kid gets killed in a villain attack, I don't know if you're long over that but I was thinking if you did continue it could it be like other student's reactions🙏. (love your works btw❤️)

A/N: Oh I will gladly write some more for that. I just picked some characters and mashed them all together into HCs. The post mentioned is this one (I think at least). Thank you for liking my stuff :D

•When Aizawa carried your lifeless body out of what was left of the dorms, everyone was already in shock from what had happened, and your death certainly didn’t make things any easier

•The police and paramedics had been alerted and teachers were pouring to the scene to help and make sure everyone was alright

•Almost everyone else had gotten out with only minor injuries, except for you

•The whole class was quiet, some because of the shock, some because they were showing respect

•You were put into an ambulance and taken away, even though no one could help you anymore, Aizawa wanted to go with you, but he also had a responsibility to his class, so he decided to go to the hospital later

•”Is everyone okay?” he asked as the rest of class-A stood there quietly

•Everyone muttered something akin to a “yes” but no one knew what else to say

•”They pushed me out of the way” Midoriya said

•As if he doesn’t carry the world on his shoulders already, the blame he placed on himself for what happened to you was certainly enough to drive anyone past the breaking point

•Aizawa assured him that it wasn’t his fault, but how could it not be? If he just had better control of his quirk, if he was as fast as All Might, you wouldn’t be dead

•There was a lot of buzz outside the school as to how it could have happened, how does a student get killed in the UA dorms?

•The whole class and Aizawa were so tired of hearing all the theories and the media blaming everyone but the actual culprits

•The whole class brought something for your desk in the class, candles, incense, flowers, food, things like that

•It became a sort of shrine to you

•The whole class was understandably distraught about what had happened, but your closest friends were the most messed up about it

•Bakugou didn’t yell at anyone for at least two weeks, he just muttered to himself whenever someone annoyed him

•He knew heroes die on the job all the time, but you weren’t a hero, you were a student

•It drove him to train harder, study harder, so next time something like this happened, maybe he wouldn’t feel so fucking useless

•Midoriya got the worst of it, he blamed himself, no matter how much everyone else told him it wasn’t his fault, he just wouldn’t listen

•He too started training harder, developing his quirk and his control over it, he didn’t want this to happen again

•In a way you motivated the whole class to be better, get stronger, it just sucked you had to die for that

•Yaoyorozu started practicing more extensive first aid after that, she took some courses outside of what the school offered, and started taking lessons from Recovery Girl too

•Some of the class followed her example, such as Uraraka, Tokoyami, Asui and Todoroki

•Yaoyorozu also made sure to learn how to make certain medicines, hemostatic gauze and things like that with her quirk, that could help in a situation like what happened to you

•His students efforts brought some light into the dark time Aizawa was going through, and the little shrine on your old desk was a nice gesture

•Even though it was sometimes a painful reminder, it was also a reminder of how much you were loved by your classmates and friends

[earthtooz]

x : POISON :*+ﾟ

in which: kaiser is undeniably in love with you. tonight, he makes it known. you accept.

warnings: 1.4k words, making out, reader is injured, gn!reader, SPY!AU, 16+ content!! sexual tension lol

context: this was originally a snippet of my 5k celebration where i planned a spy!au for kaiser. however, that idea ended up being scrapped so now i just have this makeout scene that i wrote one night and i don't want it to go to waste. there's more to this scene than just the making out, but, reader gets hurt on a mission gone awry and kaiser kinda lost his shit and went feral on the enemy and that's where we are now ! enjoy whatever this is !

“don’t overdo yourself. no intense training for a week. remember to do your breathwork and stretches everyday, five times a day,” the monotone voice of the nurse fills your ears as you try your best to stumble through the hallways to remain in pace with her. “come back in three days for a checkup. recover quickly, agent.”

“thank you,” you grit, dawdling out of the hospital wing with your bed at the forefront of your mind. goodness, you just needed to lie down and think about how you’re going to train back into top shape again.

because despite only being out of commission for five days, your senses are already failing you, unable to detect the looming figure behind you. hands abruptly grab you by your arms, pressing tightly into you as you both stumble into the darkness of your now unlocked room. 

you would fight back, but the assailant’s scent is nothing but familiar, and instead of fear, your heart begins to race in anticipation.

especially as kaiser smoothly spins you around in his grasp, forcing you to continue walking until you hit the edge of your bed, causing you to sit down. the door closes behind the two of you and the only light source were the lamps coming from outside your window, allowing you to see the outline of kaiser’s face.

“what’s your problem?” you ask, irritation brewing from how abrupt his entrance was. “seriously? do you know how reckless that was to just grab me and force me into a dark room? i’m recovering too, what if you pulled one of my stitches? jackass.”

he doesn’t reply. in fact, kaiser is uncharacteristically silent and you wonder if the man in front of you was kaiser at all.

it has to be, no other agent in this facility has blue hair like his, or such a recognisable tattoo, or an addictive aura like his. 

“kaiser?” you say, this time breathy, quiet, and cautious. “is everything okay?”

the sigh that escapes him causes his whole body to shudder and you’re caught off guard when two hands come to hold your face, followed by the press of lips against your forehead. your breath lodges itself in your throat, unused to this kind of intimacy and closeness from kaiser. 

he doesn’t speak but neither do you because you’ve never heard a more sadder, disappointed sigh from anyone… ever, not from noel when you failed an assessment, not when you were unable to shoot the dummy in the heart, not even from yourself when you failed to clear a skill stage for the umpteenth time. so you’re willing to wait for kaiser to come around, for the silence to naturally melt itself away, for his closeness to stop overwhelming you, for your heart to stop racing as fast as it is. 

his hands then move to begin playing with your hair.

“i hate that i can’t protect you,” he finally confesses; a breath of rushed words rather than an actual sentence that is easily decipherable. 

“i don’t need it-”

“-i know; you don’t need help, especially from me, but fuck, i can’t help it.” you bite back the urge to say ‘i know’, suddenly remembering the crazed look in his eyes from that night. the memory sends shivers down your spine. “i can’t help but want to hide you from the world, to be beside you all the time where you’ll be safe- where i’d kill to keep you safe.” 

his words are no louder than a breath. the weight of his words fall upon your shoulders with undeniable force, causing you to sink against him, surrendering to the pressure of his admission.

“kaiser-”

“-i know. i know you don’t need anyone’s protection, i fucking know. because you’re stupid and reckless but so brave and admirable in everything you do that i need to be selfish when it comes to you. if i’m not then you’ll go flying off to somewhere i can’t reach and my love-” 

he pauses, faltering a little as he leans away from you, tilting your head carefully to make you look up at him. “-i can’t let that happen.”

something within you crumbles. with your own ears, you hear your ruination come alive with his words. “kaiser, we can’t be doing this. you know that. we’re bad for each other.”

“why can’t you be selfish with me too?” 

stunned into silence, you can’t look him in the eye, fearful of what would become of you if you did. you’re already overflowing, the walls that you once made unbreakable finally beginning to reveal their first crack. kaiser is maddening; truly maddening.

“why can’t you be careful with me?” you ask, voice cracking against your will. “you say these things but you spin me around like a headless horse. one second you’re at my throat, ready to push me off a cliff then-”

“-my love.” 

“don’t call me that!” you plead. “don’t call me that when you don’t mean it. i’d rather bleed from a stab wound than from love, don’t you know? i can’t keep fighting against you and your cruel games.”

you quiver at the feeling of him kissing the side of your face. the crack widens. 

“you win. you’re the emperor, you’re the mastermind, whatever, i surrender.”

he breathes in, exhaling roughly too as he speaks against your skin: “you’re not understanding me. i’ll be anything you want me to be. tell me to leave and i will. i’ll never speak of this moment again and i’ll never speak of my love for you again, but accept my heart and it’ll be at your mercy.”

as if matching his promise, kaiser sinks to his knees between your legs so that you were now eye-level. his eyes gleam with heart wrenching genuinity, his expression serious like you’ve never seen him before. you’ve witnessed kaiser gone manic, gone crazed, gone rogue even, but you’ve never seen him like this. 

he’s terrifying but deliciously tempting. 

the first step is terrifying, your hands trembling when they go to cradle his jaw. he falters.

the second step is even more horrifying, as you lean closer to him, you try to unlearn the security protocols you’ve needed to put up to protect yourself. 

the third is nothing but liberating because you’re now falling, so utterly helpless as you meet your demise, landing in kaiser’s embrace.

“you’re insane,” you mutter, stopping just briefly before his lips. 

he keens, desire dripping off of him like honey as he wills himself to not close the gap. “so you’ve told me. countless times before, actually.”

“your insanity must be rubbing off on me,” you joke, “be my lover, kaiser. for the night or for eternity, i’ve picked my poison.”

“then i’ll so happily drink it for you.”

with that, you seal your lips against his and his touch shatters you from the inside, walls fully collapsing at his will when his hands go to hold your waist, grabbing your shirt as if anchoring himself into this reality. 

“shit,” he breathes against your lips. “i can’t believe this isn’t a dream.”

“what if i was?”

“then never wake me up, my love,” he grumbles before standing up, never going too far from you as he slowly pushes you down. using your elbow to support you before you could fully give in and kaiser uses his arm to hold his weight as the other goes to your hip. “i’m yours, i’m all yours.”

he sighs heavily. “i can’t believe you’re letting me do this to you.”

this time, his kiss consumes you, intent on committing all of you to memory as his hands roam, too antsy to be able to remain in one place. your hands tangle in his hair, a subtle way of telling him to not go too far; not that he wants to. how could he when he has everything he’s wanted for the past decade in his hands? 

rendered so helpless in your grasp, the only thing kaiser can think about is pleasing you.

pain shoots up your body, causing you to fall back onto your mattress, breaking away from kaiser who gazes at you with shining eyes. 

“you-” you cough. “you have to be nice. i can’t breathe very easily. everything hurts.”

kaiser laughs, the sound reverberating through the darkness. “i can make an exception for you,” he promises, hands caressing against you like glass as he connects your lips with his again, intent on fully becoming yours.

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[thatawkwardmoth]

Emma and Scott both having shitty parents (not Katherine Summers, I'm never talking shit about her) is just another reason they make a good couple.

Let me explain:

Scott is raised military before he's even a soldier for Xavier. It's little things that show it but, as someone who's dad was raised by a military man, sometimes it's hard for parents to leave the army for Base only. Scott, in the meager amount of scenes we get of his childhood, has almost the same mindest of Dean Winchester in a way. His father gives an order, he might protest but eventually, he always complies. Number one example being the plane crash and the one parachute thing. But also that he spends so much time worrying over Alex. Even after being forced to forget about him, he still remembers parts of him. And yes, it is because that's his little brother and he loves him so much. But it could also be because the phrases: 'look out for your brother', 'Keep your brother safe', 'Watch out for Alex', have been said to him since the day he met Alex in the hospital, newborn and fragile enough that Scott, even at two years old, knew not to be rough.

And it doesn't change, even on the Krakoa arc, he is angry over Alex being placed on Sinister's team. (And sinister referring to the brothers as 'his boys' gives me the ick. They Not Like Us vibes from his character in general when it comes to the Summers brothers…) He can't take care of Alex, make sure he's safe and sound, if he's on the same team as the guy who experimented on a preteen Scott for funsies and genetic testing.

Now, Katherine Summers, we don't have a lot of comics with her. But she's shown as the perfect mother figure, raising two rowdy boys mostly on her own with how busy Christopher is. And Scott and Alex remember her fondly. So no fault to her. But Christopher fucking Summers, every fault to him.

I'm not demonizing him, I need that known. I'm not saying that he's the next John Winchester (because at least he came back to check on his kids, unlike Corsair), I'm just saying that he raised Scott to be the perfect solider for Xavier and the perfect experiment for Sinister. Because he followed orders and he didn't argue back to adults (eventually he did, but you get the point).

Scott has so much unpacked trauma from his childhood and that small series where deplaced Scott is with Corsair doesn't really cover any of it. Neither do modern comics.

Emma, on the other hand, was raised in high society. Has always known the rich life and the challenges and difficulties that come with it. Mainly, her father's goals for her and her mother's long broken soul.

She grew up trying to be the perfect daughter despite being the black sheep. She couldn't meet his goals and faced his wrath for having dreams about being a teacher. His rage followed her into training the Hellions and it led to their deaths.

Now, it's not just her father's temper that is the reason she's got shitty parents. He's a cheater, a manipulator and discards his children like broken toys when they don't follow his strict guidelines of life, ex. Chrisitan being a drug addict, the older sister doing modeling, his younger being more goth and alternative for 'attention' as Emma puts it. Leaving him to pick Emma to continue his company because she's like him, a fact he learns after she blackmails and exposes his affair to his wife. He's willing to let Emma be given a pass on things purely because of his money and only stops her from hooking up with her teacher because it's not who he wants her with. No mind to the fact that he's an adult and she was a child. I hate the teacher thing. Can we tell?

He's a shit father but Hazel Frost is not exempt from my shit talking. She is not Katherine Summers. She's absent most of the time. Being the perfect socialite wife. She doesn't have a life outside of her husband's money and the parties she throws (more garden parties, not Tony Stark rager parties). She cares about her children, yes. But the tiniest amount. She can't bring herself to be there for them when they're going through difficult times. She's been broken by the expectations on her, to be the traditional wife, that she can't be bothered when the affair is revealed to her. It's heartbreaking and it makes me sad but it doesn't excuse the way she ignored her son's drug habit or her daughter's crisis with new powers and bullies at school.

Now Jean Grey has shitty parents but only after she is revealed to be a mutant to them. They sent her to Xavier's school to help her through the grief of her friend's accident and the issues she'd been having recently, not because anyone told them about her mutation. Now them rejecting her did hurt and they played a giant part in her turning into Dark Phoniex. But that happened when she was an adult. For her formative years as a child, they were present and lovely. Even as a teenager, it's shown that she calls them and writes letters and visits them on holidays. So, as much as I am a Jott and Scemma shipper alike, she can't relate to Scott's trauma and parent issues until she herself is burned and abandoned by her own. Emma, on the hand, can. She's had a shitty dad and Scott's had two and one creep that is obessed with him. She's had to mature faster because of her father not paying her ransom and making her rescue herself and decide to run away. Scott can relate to her running away, seeing as it is his favorite thing to do. Ex, the orphanage, Xavier's, Alaska, so on and so on.

Emma has even lost loves before! She was geuinely in love with the guy waiter from the comic series about her life. Was distraught when he died. She's been scorned by lovers before as well. Her teacher that she had a crush on and sabatoged a few friendships in college for (stupid plotline. stupid. stupid.) eventually reveals that he hates mutants and sees them as freaks, making Emma leave him and never look back (finally, my girl was free).

Jean hasn't. She's never lost Scott except when he cheated. She's never had to grieve him or bury him as many times as he has had to for her. Even Madelyne, who scorned Scott for reasons purely blamed on the absolute worst comic book misunderstanding and miscommunication ever, has never related to Scott on those levels. Emma has buried him and been scorned by him and still loves him, is the one he trusts with his resurrections in the Arbor Magna. It really speaks volumes.

And I'm not pitting the two ships against each other. I'm not. I'm pointing out the differences in the way they can relate to each others' pasts.

[sleepyburito]

sometimes I randomly remember my Genshin War Au and how fucked up a lotta stuff was

but then I remember I made a lot of badass moments for a lot of my favourite characters such as Childe and Kaveh being generals and Collei having a gun

Imma just ramble the basic story cuz I'm not gonna be able to write this for a long while:

So, serveral people all across Teyvat including the Traveler, Zhongli, Ei and Venti all entered a domain (what they didn't know was the same domain just different entrances all across Teyvat) and ended up stuck there for 10 days. Only for the outside world... it was 10 years

and in 10 years... a war started and raged. A war started by an unspecified enemy but the general idea is that all the terrible people teamed up for one massive army and managed to catch most of Teyvat by surprise before everyone took refuge and set up their main base in Fontaine

Slowly each group from each nation left their entrance of the Domain and are found by the resistance whom are all older and war hardened versions of the people they know

Each Nation would have a POV and I dunno I thought that would be the easiest way to tell all the stories

Those who were in the domain and didn't go through 10 years of war

Sumeru: Alhaitham, Tighnari, Cyno, Dori

Fontaine: Arlecchino, Lyney, Sigewinne, Wriothesley, Clorinde

Inazuma: Ei, Sara, Yae Miko, Shinobu, Goru

Liyue: Ningguang, Zhongli

Mondstat: Jean, Albedo, Diluc, Venti

so!! my favourite facts!!!

Childe & Xiao friendship with Xiao as Childe's right hand

General Neuvillette with Furina as his right hand

Furina having killed Sandrone

Keaya being just below the generals in rank but he was the one to kill Capitano

Amber and Eula being squad captains and married!

Sucrose, Lisa and Diona running the science/alchemy sector

Baizhu being head of the medical sector

The Fortress of Meropide being the hospital

The Tsaritsa being frozen in a coma after leaving her gnosis to her wife, my oc Myra

Kaveh having been the one to kill the former sages and he used their blood as dye for a whole outfit that he displays in his office

Nahida being physically older to show what a toll the war has taken on her

Scaramouche being a member of the engineering sector!

Beidou having adopted a kid!

Kokomi as a General with Itto as her right hand!

Rosaria and Mona being married and adopting Barbra

Collei being a field medic

all bow users being trained in guns

Kavehatham having a confession scene inspired by 'true colours' (Trolls version) by the tree in Fontaine where they acknowledge their feelings and make a promise before the final battle

Alhaitham promising to war! Kaveh to show his Kaveh how much he loves him in his time

Tighnari and Cyno dealing with the guilt and pain of unintentionally abandoning Collei

Ei & Scara reunion

Shinobu being sad over not getting to see Itto mature and realising how much she appreciates his happy go lucky attitude

Diluc realising how much he missed his brother

that's all I can say before I reveal the whole plot but send me questions in asks and I promise I will answer to the best of my abilities

@kitty-thinks-stuff figured you'd appreciate your boys in this au

[contributingtothechaos]

Saw The Outsiders musical yesterday and thought I'd share my notes app rambles I wrote on the ride home after. These are just my favorite parts I'll make a separate one abt the things I missed/didnt like if anyone wants it. Spoilers below the cut

everything I loved abt it

• Intro almost exactly like in book

• Amazing singing from everyone

• The understudy who it was her first show was so good for her first time 

• The music was based off accurate music style for the time folk, bluegrass, Americana, rock

• They actually said fuck instead of "and than he said some words which aren't appropriate to print" or something like that

• Dallas>>>

• The slow motion was so so cool

• Repurposed the car for everything. Bed, table, concessions stand

• The girl greaser was great and really funny, could tell she was strong and had funny lines

• Drove a second car on stage??? Need to figure out how. Very cool

• Actually projected the movies onto back

• Reminded me of newsies alot

• The drowning scene actually insane

• The pounding sound when they were drowning him and the slo mo fighting from everyone else>>>

• The ringing every time he got knocked out 

• THE FAKE BLOOD oml

• Dude the party when they went to find dally was sorta crazy

• Dally is such a mom he's amazing

• The boards and tires for the train!!!

• Using the boards and tires so well for everything!!!

• Omfg the way they showed jonny's parents fighting projected shadows on the window

• The broken church window <3

• Ponyboy's hairrrrr nooooo the bleach blond😭😭😭

• THE LETTER FROM SODA OH MY GOD SO SAD, SUCH A GOOD SONG

• The smoke over the whole stage during the fire

• THE REAL ASS FIRE

• the way they use the boards and tires as a hospital bed

• OH MY FUCK THE FIGHT

• IT WAS SO COOL

• THE SLOW MOTION

• THE FLASHING LIGHTS

• THE WAY THEY ACTUALLY HAD IT "RAINING" ON THE STAGE

• THE MOVES TIMES WITHTHE FLASHING

• THE WAY THEY MAKE IT LOOK LIKE FIGHTING AND DANCING AT THE SAME TIME 

• hey hey hey what the hell was stay gold? That's what got me to start tearing up fr

• WHEN JONNY DIED

• all their reactions had me tearing

• WHAT THE FUCK DALLAS

• that train scene definitely didn't get me as hard as the book but it still hit

• THE FUCKING ENDING OF LITTLE BROTHER WHAT THE HELL

• DUDE THE TIME THEY DID SODA THE MOST JUSTICE WAS IN THAT SCENE WHERE PONY AND DALLY WERE FIGHTING 

• THATS WHEN I ACTUALLY STARTED CRYING WAS SODA YELLING AT THEM

• cherry bringing the letter from Jonny oml

• Them forgiving each other amd eating dinner together>>>>

• Him saying he started writing a story and letting darry read the beginning of it, it being the beginning of the book was so great

• And the the reprise with the last words of the book was so good

• All the other actors leaving the stage after bows and then ponyboy doubling back and grabbing green beans off the table and eating them idk just funny to me

• The actors were so nice outside and so was the crowd I was holding by playbill up in like the back of the crowd of like 20 ppl and he had ppl pass it up for me

• They were all nice and took pictures I felt bad and didn't want to crowd them or follow them it they were trying to leave

• Sodapops actor having a Soda bottle tattoo that I'm not sure was fake or to commemorate his first Broadway role. Also had the hat Soda wears in movie

[berniesrevolution]

IN THESE TIMES

For nearly 40 years, Berlin Nightclub has set itself apart through its progressive, come-as-you-are atmosphere, late-night dance floor extravaganzas and bold, diverse drag performances. Now, workers at the club are seeking to set Berlin apart in a new way — by becoming the first nightclub in Chicago’s gay enclave with a unionized staff.

According to Jolene Saint, a bartender who has been working at Berlin for more than six years, on February 28th, workers at Berlin filed for union election with UNITE HERE Local 1 — a union representing more than 15,000 hospitality workers in Chicagoland. Two days later, staff notified management of their decision.

Saint says workers’ decision to unionize is ​“not personal, it’s not because we hate anybody — it’s because we know we could have better working conditions.” Two of Berlin workers’ key priorities resemble those of most union drives: better pay and healthcare. Saint, for instance, currently makes $9 an hour plus tips as a bartender, and does not receive health insurance from the club — both things she’d like to see improve. Workers In These Times spoke to said they would also like to see improvements such as proper breaks and consistent scheduling.

Yet other demands at the club have to do with its nature as a queer bar in a time when those spaces are under threat. As homophobic and transphobic rhetoric and violence increase nationally, Saint says she and her coworkers are also worried about violence coming towards the club from the outside. Workers In These Times spoke to mentioned security improvements they would like to see, including proper uniforms for all security staff as well as cut-proof jackets. Chelle Crotinger, who has been part of the club’s security staff for about five months, says they want to use the union as a way to ensure that security team members receive more in-person de-escalation and standard self-defense training.

“People often say that gay bars or queer bars are community spaces,” Saint says. ​“If they want to live up to that promise, they need to take care of the people who are making that happen … so that we can make people feel welcome, and loved.” Leo Sampson, who has been working at Berlin since fall 2021 and performs at the club as drag king Luv Ami-Stoole, sees fighting for the union as an act of community care.​“In a time where the political climate is so anti-drag and anti-trans, I think it’s important to remember we are all we’ve got is this community and we have to support each other,” he says.

Berlin’s union drive follows other recent efforts to improve conditions in Chicago’s queer nightlife scene. During the summer 2020, Chicago drag queen Jo MaMa and other local drag performers held a Drag March for Change, which drew 15,000 protestors. In the wake of the march, a group of performers formed the Chicago Black Drag Council, which held town halls to address racism in the nightlife scene in Northalsted and launched a mutual aid fund for BIPOC nightlife workers. Since then, workers at two of the city’s largest LGBTQ nonprofit organizations, Howard Brown Health Centers and Brave Space Alliance, have been fighting to unionize, which Sampson says has made the community more aware of labor issues. On Friday, members of Howard Brown Health Workers United joined Berlin workers on a picket line outside of the club. ​“We’re sort of inspiring each other to fight for what is right,” he says.

Crotinger sees their union drive as a way to help ensure Berlin remains a safe space for future generations amid larger-scale systemic attacks on queer and trans people. ​“In queer communities, we don’t really have the privilege of relying on legacy because it’s largely been taken away from us, whether it’s been through legislation or been through neglect of medical intervention for the AIDS epidemic,” they say. ​“I feel it’s our responsibility now … to establish something that is going to last beyond us.”

(Continue Reading)

[takadanobaba]

Yeah the part two would mainly focus on the town's folks first interactions with the twins and their Pokémon. Most would be completely made up since we haven't fully seen everyones take on them.

Potentially interactions were:

Pierre's hostile first meeting the twins and their starter, he places a 'no Pokémon allowed' sign on the door because he's subtle. (He also hints that all Pokémon were driven out by removing all berry plants when they try to buy berries)

Harvey being a good person but they mistake his friendliness as professionalism, he falls in love with Klinklang.

Emmet and Durant mets Sebastian out on a walk, it is painfully awkward. Sebastian thinks a giant metal ant is cool.

Jas and Vincent sneak into the railway. They met Archeops and call her a turkey since she's 'too big to be a chicken'.

OK I've realised I actually have alot more scenarios then I first thought (I have four-five more tucked away) so that part two is actually possible.

Most of the people are just awkward around the twins and their Pokémon but the few who are hostile kinda warp their views on things.

Fun fact: in the drafts of the fic, the scene between Lewis and the twins was called 'Lewis pulls some petty manager-esque BS to bully Train Boys into not fucking up his train station'.

Oh god Pierre. Step aside Morris we might have a new main antagonist lol

For Harvey, we were thinking that he isn't opposed to Pokémon exactly, just more concerned about the health risks they pose. The twins themselves aren't the healthiest people (Emmet collapses from overwork in his 2-heart event....) and they're a bit out of the norm even among other Pokémon trainers. He's worried for them and they find a mutual annoyance between Harvey's nagging and the twins' stubbornness. Here's their checkup dialogue! Ingo is haunted and Emmet is immune to paralysis due to prolonged exposure. They're fine.

Harvey and Klinklang would be cute though, I haven't considered that!! It fits well since we were thinking that Maru would adore Klinklang too... We were thinking that Maru would be the one to look into getting better Pokemon healthcare in Stardew Valley (with the help of Marnie, since they're essentially animals)... the hospital nerds and Klinklang!

And oh god..... Emmet and Sebastian..... man do I have thoughts on that. Any interaction would definitely be awkward between them and quite possibly end in disaster. I know a few people want to see Emmet and Sebastian together but outside of both of them being the "rude but really just socially inept" type, I think they would clash. Since the twins are on good terms with Maru because she watches over the pokemon for research(/babysitting), Sebastian might be bitter towards them out of association, the twins themselves would feel sorry for Maru for having her brother hate her for no reason of her own. The twins support each other and push each other to be the best they can be, they're inseparable (or at least... shouldn't be separated...) and the thought of their sibling hating them terrifies them. I wouldn't say that they have a healthy relationship since they're a bit dependent on each other, being a two-car train and all.

Ingo would dislike Sebastian for being a bad big brother, and Emmet would dislike him for how ungrateful he is for the people in his life; Emmet's distaste would be stronger though. Along with being terrible to Maru, Sebastian's relationships with his friends would also raise red flags for Emmet (poor guy has trust issues and a low tolerance for that kind of thing). Sam and Abigail both favor Sebastian, but Sebastian has lines about not really seeing Abigail as a friend and thinking that Sam is clingy/annoying to hang out with. Emmet is a little insecure about being the lesser-liked twin and an outcast, he's lonely and while he doesn't bother with faking courtesy like Ingo, he is still verrrry grateful for anyone who isn't deterred by him for whatever reason that may be. Emmet is also a bit clingy with the few people who do win his trust and would probably make Sebastian feel bad for being a bad friend. Emmet and Sebastian are opposites in a conflicting way.

Here's some dialogue made super early on referencing how Sebastian visits the Railroad in his schedules:

Sebastian has a line about how he used to like trains when he was younger too, but it's very distant and angsty, like much of his reflections. He'd probably think of the twins being passionate about their special interest in trains to be a little cringe.... they would think he's cringe for not liking trains as much as them. I feel like they would project a bit and see each other as a reminder of their insecurities so.... they would not be good being together for too long.

Sebastian taking an interest in Durant would be interesting though..... Durant and Excadrill in this mod are drafted to have a henchman and mafia boss dynamic with each other and are always getting into trouble together so maybe he'd enable their shenanigans.

We do have a bit about Jas and Vincent liking Pokemon too! They'd love Archeops since he's basically an extra big and colorful chicken... the kids and Evelyn are the three people who aren't initially deterred by Pokemon, they get used to it for the most part later though.

And LOL love that. Thank you for sharing your thoughts!

[demonslayedher]

Things that charged through my mind with a kitchen knife while watching this episode:

--this episode is ------SO FUNNY

--The comedic timing, the changes in BGM, letting the voice actors go wild, it's so good

--the Haganezuka & Kanamori scene especially, they let that scene live a whole life of its own, and it makes me so excited to see them again --the comedic timing and shifts in tone, like Tanjiro sounding like he's an 8-year-old and then the moment he picks up on Haganezuka's murderous intent, Haganezuka taking the moment to leave the precious sword in Kanamori's arms so that he can charge with a knife, the inflection on Haganezuka's statements as he finger-stabs Tanjiro's cheek, the change in Kanamori's tone as he goes from total opposite of everyone in this series with his utter calm and then his ballistic (and well deserved) anger, the way Inosuke pauses to stare back at him AND THEN JUST DEMOLISHES THE SECOND SWORD ANYWAY

--Okay but also, Shinobu, you know she had waaaay too much fun "encouraging" Inosuke and Zenitsu. That was precisely the result she knew she'd get. The way that first pat on Inosuke's shoulder echoes through the dojo? AHAHAHAHA, IT'S SO GOOD. Also, once again, total lack of respect for personal space as she comes in all familiar with Tanjiro as though he's her own little brother. Speaking of, I have always, always loved the comedic timing on her conversation with Tanjiro and how well it sets up his upcoming connection to Rengoku. She truly cares a lot about Tanjiro and absolutely means it when she says she expects great things from him.

--No one expects him to be a good teacher, though. It is so laughable how much faster Zenitsu & Inosuke learn to do constant Total Concentration Breathing once Shinobu teaches them. Tanjiro's BOOM BOOM is one of the best lines Hanae Natsuki has ever delivered, but he has so much range in this episode and it is great, right down to the intensity of when he takes on Kanao in what's nearly battle. And those squeaky violins in the BGM as he poorly explains it? Hahaha, I love it. Also, two things that get in my Kamado Tanjiro feels are that he states by whole-heartedly proclaiming that his faith in Inosuke & Zenitsu to pick this technique up right away--he KNOWS their abilities and KNOWS they pick things up without the same amount of effort Tanjiro has to expend, and the effort Tanjiro puts into this technique truly makes it feel earned. He knows he's hard-headed and it takes that amount of time and effort before he gets something and can make it a part of himself, but teh fact that he never gives up and just gets started right away on that effort is so respectable. The second thing? He's using a line he learned from Makomo, those are her words!!

--What is Inosuke even doing with the broom balancing act?

--This conversation between Zenitsu & Chuntaro is some of my favorite filler

--Once again, we get a nice filler scene with Tanjiro talking to Nezuko, and in advance of the series' conclusion, reminding us that he needs to defeat as many powerful demons as he can so he can send that blood to Tamayo for Nezuko's cure. What I love is that it still bothers him that Nezuko sleeps so long and she gets worried if she doesn't wake up sometimes. On my first thought I was like, "sheesh, another convenient long nap to let Oniichan do his thing" but nowadays I'm like, "AWWWW, NEZUKO IS IN TRAINING TOOOOO." Granted, it's because of Ufotable's choice to give Nezuko her own room (a former Tsuguko's room? Kanae's room? Hospital VIP private room?) in which to set this Tanjiro orations that the scene of Zenitsu talking to Nezuko in her box had to be sacrificed. But hey, maybe she liked to sit in the both during the day sometimes to be closer to everybody, only to be all alone anyway because Oniichan was outside training! And we do know she was awake at least sometimes, as she Zenitsu cared for her entertainment needs by stealing goldfish and taking her own to see nighttime blooming flowers (in the light novels, that chapter was set during this period if I remember correctly).

--Forgot to mention this in the previous episode, but Zenitsu's mouth covered in crumbs and Inosuke covered in leaves and dirt reminds me how much I love the Taisho Secret in the previous episode when it's heavily implied through Tanjiro & Shinobu's innocent conversation that Shinobu is pissed off about Zenitsu & Inosuke's behavior while they're not in training, and how in the background they're like, "OH NO"

--Okay, so, this episode is about Kanao. Ufotable once again shows they can make excellent character-driven filler scenes, that moment when Shinobu suggests she go off and join her silly batchmates in training and Kanao's like, "let me go consult with my coin" was such a good set-up for the coin thing, and gave us such a good moment to get inside her head and artfully work in the Kanao flashback which appeared in the manga in the middle of the Mugen Train arc. The silent pauses on Kanao say so much, especially in an episode with such high energy in every other scene. Kanao may not know it, but we the viewers who know Kanao better than she yet knows herself can see that she was conflicted because she DID want to join the dumb batchmates.

--The flashback, oh my gosh, the flashback, I was already so weak and loving Shinobu more and more and more with every single scene she was in and then they gave me THIS and I was like, "!!!!!!!! THE REAL SHINOBU!!!!!!!!!!!!"

--But also… THE CUP!! THE CUP ON THE HEAD!!! OH MY GOODNESS, AHAHAHAHAH, IT'S SO GOOD, AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, AND THEN SHE JUST SITS THERE WITH IT ON HER HEAD, KANAO, YOU ARE ADORABLE

[ominoose]

Your Blue discourse is excellent! Ngl, I took that one line so differently when I saw the movie first time around.

Here's my thoughts: I had a headcanon/theory that orderly Blue was originally a patient, one that either a) got released wayyyyy before he was ready, b) somehow took over the place from the original head orderly and just made everybody think he was supposed to be in charge, or c) it was originally for men until one of them (Blue) got out, disposed of everyone else, and freed the rest of the patients to be his minions essentially. Overall... I've put way too much thought into this.

Another thought/hc i have, especially for that scene when he's upset over everyone else "playing with his toys" but him, he a) calls everyone 'toys' because he's been treated like one as a child or possibly because if he starts viewing them as human beings, he'll lose control over his own emotions even more, b) he actually craves something more than what he's got (maybe a fucked up version of a romantic relationship with one of his patients) because I see him as someone who if he caught feelings, he'd become the most possessive fucker there is, or c) back the the childhood trauma theory, and now it's his personal mission to never lose control over anything ever again, because he can't even get control over his own self, so he gets it over everyone else.

One more thought/hc for now for Blue's childhood, he was never loved the way he should have been, and that was out of his control. Maybe one parent was abusive to the other while the other was too distant to be there for him (why he freaks out when Babydoll goes into her mind) and now, subconsciously he craves that feeling of love that he's convinced himself he'll never get so he gets power and control over anything/everyone he can because that's what he can control. If someone did show him any willing submission I honestly think it'd probably ruin him.

I cannot describe how happy this ask makes me, I cannot explain how giddy I am getting into and dissecting this horrid mans life.

My personal little hc for his childhood is that his mother worked at the hospital and slept around a lot, he never had a real father figure. She spent most of her time at the hospital, which we know is out the way and in some woods, so with no one else to watch him he was stuck hanging around there too and seeing his mum not so subtly be passed around the men working.

He was neglected, his only example of relationships were sexual, transactional, a power play. Its likely he saw the old head orderly there, someone his mum had to suck off up to for more shifts. Somewhere along the line, when he's old enough, he just ends up working there. It's mostly cleaning or running small errands, but as he gets older the head orderly takes him under his wing a little, showing him the ropes, letting him have a proper job.

At some point his mother would die of an overdose or something, the head orderly dies or retires and Blue is left in charge. Remember at the end when he says "You're stuck here with me, in all this shit", he says it with such venom. Stuck here is such a particular phrase, like he's just as trapped as the girls staying there. I think he is, at least mentally. It's all he's ever known, he has no power outside of Lennox House, he probably lives there too, meaning any power he has is central to there. It's his to own, play with, make it how he wants. It's his prison as much as his home.

Thats also likely reflected in how he treats the girls. Jointly stemming from resentment towards his neglectful mother and from the only way he's seen women treated, his relationship with the girls is one where he feels powerful and treats them as objects. To him, they aren't anything more than an object to make money off of, sheep to be herded and trained.

Switch to the Club version of Blue, and again Oscar himself says this version of Blue is as much of how Blue see's himself, not just how Babydoll see's him. We can apply the hc backstory here too. His mother was a dancer, he spent his childhood here, he saw the women being used. The brothel owner takes him in and then Blue ends up with the business, etc, etc.

Why would Blue see himself, picture an idolized version of himself as some glamorous brothel owner? Likely because it's a world where the few skills and assets he have are more than a depressing, run down mental hospital full of depravity and hopelessness. Here, it's more than selling mentally ill girls to his fellow slimy workers, now it's having pretty girls do elaborate dances to high class clientele.

All that aside, I really love the idea that he used to be a patient that was let out early. What would he be in for? It works because he'd known the ins and outs, he'd know how shit the staff is, he'd be in with some of the worst of them. Him taking over from the head orderly is the most likely though. We know he can forge signatures and documents, would've been not too hard for him to pull the credentials needed for the job outta thin air and make up some story to sack the former head orderly.

I genuinely do think he craves a person to love him unconditionally, in his own twisted way. Someone that see's and acknowledges how deprived he is and is happily willing to put up with his abuse. He's possessive, and Club Blue likes to look his best, so why wouldn't he want someone obsessed over him?

Would he love them back? I'm not sure. I don't think he has enough control or attention to direct to a single person, but he might have favourites. Overall he would just love the feeling of someone worshiping him.

Also how did you take the line first time around?

[kfans-writerblog]

Help her save her

JJ walks in with a new case file in her hands everyone gather around the meeting tabel

Ok this from L.A California

From last 2 weeks 3 dead body found

All found in the woods hikers see the dead body then called the cops

"Wheels up in 10 " aaron hotchner said and got everyone to get packed up to fly to L.A

In the jet *

Morgan asks " hey baby girl anyone found anything weird or stood out in the crime scene ? "

Garcia " hey sugar ofcourse I found something in common in every crime scene all 3 crime scene found a demon symbol draw from blood . Garcia out ! "

Now in LA police office

Reid and Emily put the photos and maps

Reid says "guys I found something! So every location is near each other making it a square shape most likely our unsub has a terrible trauma looking for a new home what they all have in common is they all have black hair and this location looks like to be some photography studio near 187 CASTELLAMMARE "

"Hey guys I got a letter for you guys it said signed by the demon killer " a police said

Emily said " hotch you ok you look so pale "

Hotch replies " the studio... that's the studio y/n gose to to take classes we need to get there now !"

He runs and drives to the place "Morgan Emily come with me others stay here to get a profile "

5mins later

He runs into the studio " FBI HANDS IN THE AIR NO ONE MOVE "

but then there was nobody there

"Clear " they said but Morgan heard some shuffling he whispers "guys in here "

Morgan kicked the door open and he saw you getting hold in hostage by a guy

You said crying "aaron it's him he did it "

Hotch replies " your going to be ok . Let go of her and drop the weapon !"

"What do you want from me I don't even know you"

You try to defend your self and punch the guy in the chest but then he stabbed you in the back

"Y/N! NO ! "

He hugged you and whisper "no no stay with me don't sleep Emily call the ambulance!!!"

" got it ! . Ambulance are on there way now !"

The ambulance showed up and they took you to the hospital and aaron joined you in the same truck while they drive he held your hand

"Y/n jack needs you your a good step mom a good friend we need you to take care of us "

You look at him " promise me you will always be our hero can you promise me that? "

He nods

And you guys arrived to the hospital quickly went to the operation room aaron was worried waiting outside

Time passes by quickly after 5 hours of operation the doctor came out to speak with the family "may I speak with y/ns family "

Aaron said " here I'm her husband is she going to be ok ?"

"Good news is she will be ok but she is in a coma right now might take her a few weeks to be awake bad news is she cannot use her lower body anymore loss too much blood and so the muscles on her lower back will not work anymore "

He sigh "ok thanks doctor "

4 months later you woke up and you got scared because your legs can't movie

You call doctor and nurses and they contacted aaron and they say you are good to go home

" OH honey I'm scared my legs can't move " you got depressed and cry

" I'm sorry it's my fault I should've shot the guys arm now you can't even sigh walk"

"Aaron it wasn't your fault I am sad but I don't want you to blame yourself for what someone did .he was the one who stabbed my back not you " You brushed his hair back

He kneels down "sweetie listen to me you will be ok I got something that will cheer you up look inside the blanket "

You look into the blanket

" aww it's a cute doggie baby thank you I love it "

Aaron said "Honey don't worry about anything I got her trained already 😌"

You hug him " aaron ."

He replies "yes ?"

"Have I told you how much I love you before ?"

He kisses your cheek " no but I felt it I felt your love through your actions no matter how many days and nights I don't come home from work you will always take care of Jack for me and times I travel for work you don't spam me with messages because you know I'm busy and you understand my job and not everyone can do that you are my hero if i didn't have you I would be crazy and I will not be Jack's hero I love you "

[dankusner]

Christeene: Fabulous Filth and Fury

Nothing compares 2 the NYC performer’s unbridled celebration of Sinéad O’Connor.

Christeene takes the mic – no holds barred, no hands needed.

Brett Lindell Transcendent, transgressive, triumphant, Christeene strides across the stage until she’s head-to-head with vocal powerhouse Peaches, the pair luminescent with love, fury, and fishnets as they duet on Sinéad O’Connor’s “Troy.”

The location might be the genteel-ish City Winery, but the scene onstage and in the audience is pure Lower East Side, an Andy Warhol’s Factory meets NYC’s ’80s/’90s club kids mashup: fabulous, decadent, and genderqueer.

The crowd coalesced for the first of two shows of “The Lion the Witch and the Cobra,” NYC-based Christeene’s production of O’Connor’s potent 1987 debut album, The Lion and the Cobra. Tonight, explains Christeene, it’s the season of the witch.

A dirty-mouthed angel, Christeene’s southern drawl, prominent in both her singing and speaking voice, occasionally has a tinge of amoral South Park cartoon kid Cartman.

Yet in conversation and onstage, the multi-dimensional performer embodies intelligence, compassion, and charisma.

She’s a lovable Oprah-of-the-sewers meets Greta Thunberg, for those who like their icons X-rated, bare-assed, droll, dry-witted, and earnest.

Weeks before this, I met with Christeene at the Parkside Lounge.

Lips painted in garish slashes of red, she is sipping a Manhattan in its namesake borough while applying fake nails out of a plastic tackle box of choices.

“Eight-balls and ear-cleaning at your service” she drawls, supergluing a pinky nail to her interlocutor’s left hand.

Perched at the end of the bar, Christeene is prepping for hosting duties at that evening’s Oscar party, setting out snack mix in paper bowls and fluffing the “red carpet,” a diminutive bathroom rug.

Show of hands on the red carpet: Christeene hosts the Oscars at Parkside Lounge.

Later she emailed about her constant companion, honorary Oscar recipient Angela Lansbury: “Jessica Fletcher is my flashlight in tha dark, and she takes care of fukkn business when shit gets real.”

Offstage, sans not-so-finery, the artist is known to friends as Paul Soileau, and the garrulous, hospitable Louisiana mannerisms of his Lake Charles birthplace are prevalent in Christeene.

She doesn’t necessarily identify as a musician; Soileau didn’t grow up worshiping Alice Cooper, David Bowie, or any other darkly changeable theatrical musical character.

“I’m actually more cinematic,” she says.

To wit, she met the Dead Kennedys’ Jello Biafra and didn’t know who he was.

And became pals with Roddy Bottum before knowing he was in Faith No More.

Christeene prefers Barbara Stanwyck and “old Hollywood shit. I’m a little late bloomer when it comes to music,” she explains. “And I really appreciate that, because it leaves my playing field open to imagine and create without too much influence.”

It’s that background that allows the spewing of a track like “Fix My Dick,” a throbbing, The Prodigy–style buzzing industrial sex song.

To date, Christeene’s albums include 2012’s Waste Up, Kneez Down, 2018’s Basura, and the most recent, 2022’s Midnite Fukk Train.

Her role as a performer is as visual as it is vocal, her timbre and stage presence more subversive singer than stellar songstress.

There was crotch-grabbing, bois in G-strings, and a story about an event where her butt plug was accidentally born aloft by a rogue drone.

This might make her an unlikely candidate to honor O’Connor’s often personal and poetic songs.

But the two share a deep well of compassion, a sense of justice, tenderness, and outsiderness.

Still, a quick look at Christeene won’t show that full picture.

So when she mounted a one-night show of “The Lion the Witch and the Cobra,” in 2019, at London’s tony Barbican Centre, Christeene reached out to the icon.

“I didn’t want Sinéad O’Connor to read about Christeene and this show and not have a solid explanation of who the fuck I was and what I was doing. I’d have been like, ‘What the fuck is this booger troll doing with my music?’”

So she wrote a letter and gave it to John Reynolds, O’Connor’s first husband and career-long collaborator and producer.

He passed it along, and word came back that O’Connor was cool with the production.

Reynolds actually came to the London show, telling Christeene, “I haven’t listened to this album in 30-something years.”

“I was like, ‘I’m so sorry to deliver it like this,’” she recalls. “And, all in jest, but it was really fucking important and incredible to have John in the room, to have that conversation with Sinéad through John.”

March 25, 2024, was the third time Christeene and her band created that musical “conversation” with O’Connor’s work, the second time since the Irish singer’s death, in 2023, and the first time in New York City.

Emerging onto City Winery’s stage in beautifully blasphemous, pope-like red robes, the artist was flanked by a pair of acolytes who performed different roles throughout the show.

Climbing atop three stacked milk crates serving as a riser — her very DIY stage set a source of pride even while doing her own roadie duties during the show — Christeene towered over the upturned faces of the standing-room-only audience to deliver the opening salvo.

The crowd, by turns uber-emotional, joyous, and appreciative of Christeene’s hilarity, sang along to “Never Gets Old” (the set opener, but actually the fifth song on The Lion and the Cobra), “Mandinka,” and “Just Like U Said It Would B.”

Christeene was then joined by another downtown icon, Justin Vivian Bond, for “Drink Before the War.”

The power-suited, well-coiffed Bond stood in marked visual contrast to Christeene’s ice-blue contact lenses, long blond wig with bangs, gold tooth, and yellow fishnet one-piece homemade bathing suit.

Christeene’s wrists were adorned with the plastic circles from Hellman’s mayonnaise lids she uses as bracelets, the armfuls of bangles recalling “Lucky Star”–era Madonna.

There was crotch-grabbing, bois in G-strings (Christeene’s own handmade undergarments are G-strings fashioned from pantyhose), and a story about an event where her butt plug was accidentally born aloft by a rogue drone.

Between songs, Christeene drawled eloquently about O’Connor and the miserable state of the world, and then she wished the gathered audience the “black teeth” caused by City Winery’s signature beverage, borrowing, then finishing, an audience member’s long-stemmed glass of red wine with a theatrical grimace.

Towering passion: Arising on milk crates. Brett Lindell

Onstage, Christeene marveled at the depth of the songs O’Connor wrote and recorded while she was still a teen, pregnant with her first child and fighting mental issues and the patriarchy.

In our Parkside interview, she observed, “I thought of Sinéad as the Greek lady Cassandra, who ran around and told the truth all the time, and no one believed it. Something about that, on that level, years before the Barbican show — maybe five or six — I got a creative kick sometimes. You get a feeling. And that one stuck.”

While initially she wanted to mount the New York show in a small, divey venue, Christeene’s community of collaborators boosted the idea of something bigger.

“And I said yes, as you always should … Liza Minelli says ‘Yes!’” Her friends are family. Hugs and kisses are fervent and frequent. Collaborators and bandmates are family. Christeene easily engenders loyalty and gives as good as she gets.

During our interview at the Parkside, as she went about her Oscar-hosting duties, friends and fans filed by as she mused on the creative process, power dynamics, and the road that led to the upcoming City Winery show.

“I think the term drag now is just too dangerous, because it’s a homogenized carton of milk on a shelf.”

“I have rearranged, changed the order of a few things, because I’m a theater faggot,” she explains, of the full-album playthrough of O’Connor’s album. “I really believe in taking the people on a journey that will emotionally carry you. We’re not changing songs so much as injecting them or putting them through the filter of my sound and the sounds of the musicians I work with, and the energy that I deliver on stage. I’m very aggressive onstage, but I can also be as sweet as pie.”

She’s not unlike Bella Baxter, the genuine and chaotic character that would earn Emma Stone an Oscar a few hours hence, for her role in Poor Things.

“I don’t like that Mark Ruffalo person,” Christeene remarks of the actor who portrays Duncan Wedderburn in the film, her Cajun inflections a slow burn. “But he’s charming the pants off me on this one, because he’s an idiot. And I love idiots. I thought it was super fucking creative. It could have gone down so many shitty highways of a woman surrounded by men.

“Many of the people in these fucking films are actively a little more alive than a lot of other people,” she adds. “So maybe they’ll kind of speak up about some world shit and not be too afraid to do so on the stage tonight, because they seem to have a bit more joie de vivre than, like, some of the old crusties. But who knows? Because, like, we need some more Vanessa Redgraves up in there to talk the talk of the Oscars, and Sinéad O’Connor too, because she always had something to say about an awards ceremony.”

If a Frankensteined female character can capture the public’s imagination and praise onscreen, maybe the equally quixotic, earthy character of Christeene isn’t far behind.

Drag queen and reality show superstar Ru Paul has soared to worldwide fame and acceptance.

But Christeene has more in common with Hedwig, of Angry Inch fame — colorful but fringe-y, and dirtily sexual.

She also has a powerful undercurrent of gravitas to her person: a humanitarian in five-inch heels who shoves the microphone in her mouth à la the Cramps’ Lux Interior.

That said, “I don’t see myself as a drag performer. I think the term drag now is just too dangerous, because it’s a homogenized carton of milk on a shelf,” explains the disarming artist. “I find myself to be a family member of drag. Like when y’all get together for the holidays, I’m the cousin that shows up and you’re like, ‘Yeah, this is your cousin Christeene.’ And everyone’s like, ‘We’re related to that shit?!’ Then I walk in and eat all the food, and I leave. And maybe break the toilet. Or get to know your mom real good, and we both leave.”

She clarifies further: “I’m not disowning drag. Drag is a historical language. It is the world of magic and surrealism and imaginative gender exploration and comedy and ways to deal with this fucked-up world as best we can. I think it has layers of importance.”

But if drag is often dressed to the nth degree, Christeene is the antithesis of fancy, more dressed to kill (scare? confound?) than impress.

A descriptor sometimes used is “drag terrorist,” which comes from multidisciplinary artist Vaginal Davis, a friend and inspiration.

“Vag always called herself a ‘drag terrorist.’ And whenever I was a baby — I was working, and still work, with my dear friend PJ Raval, he’s a filmmaker — we were always getting hit with ‘What are you?’ which I fucking hate. I hate telling people what they need. Everybody wanted an explanation and a sticker on the car. I remember just seeing how Vag did that. I was like, ‘That makes perfect sense.’”

Christeene feels like an old soul, “who has ghosts in me of past times and places and people, I think the way dirt can get in the corner and crevices. I think I find a way to get blown into places maybe where I don’t belong — like City Winery. Or where I do belong, here at the Parkside.”

A dirty-mouthed angel honors Sinéad. Brett Lindell

Judging by the long, diverse, and creatively attired line to get into City Winery — and the subsequent major coverage in The New York Times and elsewhere — Christeene belongs there too.

If the Gray Lady can get behind what Christeene describes as the “What the fuck atmosphere” she intentionally creates, maybe there’s hope. Says Christeene, “If you go see the strange mix of a City Winery kind of establishment with the filth and the fury of what we’re doing, your brain’s trying to understand the luxury of the wine and food along with the booger onstage screaming at ya. I think we need more of that in our lives, because the comfort levels of where we go and what we know needs to get scrambled.”

Ripping up a picture of the pope on Saturday Night Live scrambled many people’s comfort levels a bit too much.

And ultimately, O’Connor’s own life felt too jumbled for her to carry on.

But she’s got Christeene to help remind and further that legacy of truth, bravery, kindness, and beauty.

Christeene does not see the Sinéad show as a tribute.

In her words, “It’s absolutely honoring a woman who I found the world had not honored for what she said, what she proved, what she has always stood for. Not even fought for. Her actions, her language, and the calmness upon which she delivered that … I don’t see that as someone fighting for something, [I see it] as just speaking truth and delivering their gifts to the fucking world.”

After closing the witchy Winery evening with “Just Call Me Joe,” the multilayered and mystical final track on The Lion and the Cobra, it was clear the audience wanted more.

O’Connor’s album was done, but the show was not.

Kicking out the jams on “Fix My Dick,” Christeene spat lyrics that included “I’ll let you chew on my crabcake, to hell with the first date / Just slide me the beef steak” to a rabid crowd undulating with appreciation.

The room — and performers — were sweaty and sated.

While no further performances of “The Lion the Witch and the Cobra” have yet been set, in a post–City Winery email to the Voice, Christeene reflected on the triumph of the two NYC shows, which saw celebrities including Todd Oldham, Debbie Harry, Graham Norton, Chloë Sevigny, and Michèle Lamy in attendance.

“I’ve seen the love from the folks who came into these rooms for these shows, and I’m smacked with shock and awe at the things folks are saying from their experiences,” she wrote. “My heart really is so fukkn full. It’s been a long time comin to make these shows happen, and crossing that threshold with crowds like the ones we had in LA and NYC was life changin’. Press can say what it wants, but ya really had to be there to know what happened in those rooms. It was surreal and mysterious and it was all in orbit with the star that is Sinéad.”