#I've been having some trouble with my post not showing up in tags so I'm praying this one will

[flopicas]

I found this picture on Pinterest and I immediately knew I was going to draw it

[iholli]

glaring directly into the sun as I write them into my unpublished f/o list

[pedroscurls]

in every lifetime

summary: you lost logan in this universe. logan lost you in his. what happens when you both see each other again, but realize that you're both from different worlds? pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader warnings: post deadpool & wolverine ("worst" logan!variant), angst (mentions of death, loss from both reader and logan), no use of y/n. word count: 2.1k a/n: this is my first logan fic, so if anything is ooc, i'm sorry in advanced! just like everyone else, i've been obsessed with hugh jackman / logan after watching deadpool & wolverine (if it isn't obvious lol)... i had the song 'unchained melody' in mind when writing this story because whenever i hear it, i think of logan for some reason lol (tried to embed it but it didn't work, but i'd highly recommend listening to the song while reading this!) anyway, hope you enjoy! next part.

“I’ll be back.”

“But what if–”

“I always come back, bub.” Logan’s looking down at you, hand cupping your cheek. In moments like this, you can see the age in his features. The crows feet at the corners of his eyes. The gray in his hair and beard. 

“Logan…” Tears sting your eyes. You know he has to leave, has to go help Charles, but there’s a feeling deep in your gut that knows that if he goes, he isn't coming back. 

“Wait for me, then.” He says, dipping down to gently peck your lips. “Okay? Wait for me.” 

“Logan,” you repeat. “What do I do if I– if I lose you?” 

There’s a feeling in the pit of Logan’s stomach, a sense of dread and fear that he’s only ever felt when you were concerned. This feels a lot like a goodbye… That maybe if he does go, he won’t come back. And the thought alone scares him. He never used to have to think about the possibility of dying, his regenerative powers always healing him in record time, but he knows that he doesn’t heal as quickly as before. He feels more pain now than he ever had. And he knows he’s sick, knows that the adamantium that once gave him strength is now slowly making him weaker.

But now, the thought of dying… It fucking scared him. It scared him to think that he’d leave you here, all alone, grieving him. He had never thought he’d be deserving of someone like you, to be loved and taken care of so gently, so sweetly, so patiently. Even with all of the baggage he carried, you never pushed. He knew, right off the bat, that you deserved someone so much better than him, but you stayed. 

Through it all, you stayed. 

And Logan would forever be grateful. After everything he’s been through, the things he’s seen, the things he had to do, the people he’s lost, you gave him a life that was finally worth living. 

“Then, you move on, darlin’.” Logan finally answers. 

“And if I can’t?” 

“You’ll have to.” 

“I don’t… I don’t want you to go, but I know that you have to. Charles needs you and–”

“I love you with every fiber of my being, baby,” Logan interjects. “And I will love you in every lifetime.” 

And that was almost a year ago. The moment he stopped calling, you knew that was it. That he either got into some real trouble or… Or that he was no longer here. It wasn’t until a young girl named Laura showed up on your doorstep, holding his dog tags that your assumptions were correct. 

You had fallen to your knees, a sob escaping your lips, as you felt your world come crashing down. Logan’s death had left a gaping hole in your heart, in your life, and everywhere you looked and everywhere you went, all you could see was him. 

You learned from Laura that during his last moments, he had told her to come and find you, that you would take care of her and give her a good life. Whenever you were around her, you tried to be strong, tried to put on a brave front, but behind closed doors, you were a complete mess. There were days where you didn’t want to get out of bed, didn’t want to eat; you just wanted the pain to stop. Every night, whenever you closed your eyes, you forced yourself to sleep because that was the only place where you could be with him. 

In your dreams, he was alive. 

In your dreams, he had made it back home.

In your dreams, he was here with you, helping raise Laura. 

And every time you woke up, you were welcomed with the sudden reality that he wasn’t alive. He wasn’t coming back home. He wasn’t ever going to be here with you to help raise Laura. 

Logan was dead and now, you had to try and learn how to move on. 

For yourself.

For Laura.

For Logan. 

—

He didn’t know what he was doing here, why he agreed to stay with Wade because it was driving him crazy. This wasn’t even his timeline; he wasn’t even meant to be here. Despite saving Wade’s timeline, Logan still found it hard to fit in. He tried to keep Wade and every single one of his friends at an arm's distance because he knows what happens to people he cares about. 

But the more time he spent around them, the more he felt at ease. Logan would be lying if he said he was waiting for the other shoe to drop, but when Laura mentioned your name at one of Wade’s family dinners, his heart skipped a beat. When he realized he would be able to stay in this timeline, you were all he could think about. 

Logan wondered if you existed in this world and what he would do if you did. So, when Laura casually said your name, his head turned around so quickly that he felt dizzy. There were so many things he regretted in his own timeline, but you were his biggest regret. 

Just like he failed the other X-men, Logan had failed you too. You had been there with the other X-men, trying to warn them of a planned attack and ended up getting caught in the crossfire. You had called out for him, just like Scott, like Charles, like Storm. 

He managed to get to you before you had taken your last breath, holding you in his arms. Logan begged and begged for you to fight, that he’d do things right from now on as long as you just held on, but you were losing so much blood and Logan couldn’t stop it. 

Even then, when you had every right to be angry with him, you gazed up at him with an understanding look on your face. You had always been so patient and kind, so sweet and considerate. You had made him so happy and it scared him, which ultimately ended in pushing you away because he didn’t think he was deserving of it. Of you. 

“I love you, Logan,” you had said, wincing at the pain. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m–” Logan felt a sob catch in his throat, tears stinging his eyes as he looked down at you. “Please, baby, please please please, don’t–”

“I–” you coughed, eyes fluttering as you felt the pain overcome your entire body. “I will love you in every lifetime, Logan.” And then, you took your last breath, eyes falling shut and body falling limp in his arms. 

Since then, Logan drank himself day after day, from dawn to dusk. The alcohol never truly helped, his regenerative powers sobering him so fast, but with every swig of liquor, it burned. And he spent years bringing pain unto others, including himself. 

That was, until he met Wade who had given him a chance, a reason to fight for something… To not turn his back on someone who relied on him. A chance for redemption, to finally make things right. 

“So, will you meet her?” Laura asks, holding Dogpool in her arms as she gazes up at Logan. “She– She used to be with this universe’s Logan and…”

“No chance, kid.” Logan interrupts, shaking his head. “I’m not him.” 

“Did you have someone like her in yours?” she asks. “She’s always put me first, always made sure I was taken care of even when she didn’t have to, when she was grieving. And I think–” Laura sighs. “I think if she knows that some version of you is alive, it would make her real happy.”

“I’m not him,” Logan growls, feeling his irritation spike. “‘Sides, she’s better off without me.” He stands from the table and walks out into Wade’s balcony to get some fresh air, shutting the door behind him as he leans against the railing.

“But she’s coming tonight,” Laura finally says, long after Logan’s walked away.

Throughout the rest of the dinner, Logan remains outside. He can hear the muffled laughter coming from inside and it only angered him because it was just another confirmation that he didn’t belong here. He’s already on his fourth bottle of beer when he hears a familiar voice, smells a recognizable scent. He turns slightly and catches you stepping into Wade’s apartment, an arm slinging over Laura’s shoulders so casually, so maternally. 

He feels his heart rate pick up. Your smile still lights up a room and he can’t help but his lips turning upwards at the sight. With his enhanced hearing, Logan can hear your voice and he shuts his eyes for a moment, tuning all of his attention on you until you’re the only one he hears. 

Then, he hears your laugh and he lets out a sigh. He never thought he’d be able to hear that again, but his eyes shoot open when he hears you say his name. There’s a shocked tone in your voice, laced with sadness and hope. It all but crushes him because he knows that you’re probably expecting someone else, expecting this world’s Logan and he doesn’t want to disappoint you. Not again. He doesn’t think he’d be able to handle it if he were to hurt you again. 

But when he looks at you, his breath catches in his throat when your eyes meet his. Logan notices the surprise look on your face, but before he could try and escape, you’re already walking towards him. When you open the door and step out with him, your scent fills his senses and it makes him dizzy, like he can’t fully concentrate. 

“You…” he hears you say, voice unsteady. “You’re not… I’m–” you sigh and shake your head. 

“I know who you are,” Logan finally says, his own voice shaky. 

Your hands reach out for him, but stopping halfway when you realize this isn’t your Logan. This is not the same man who died all those years ago. This is some version of him – much younger, less wrinkles and gray hairs in his hair and beard, but he still has that same look on his face. The scowl. 

“From Laura?” you ask hesitantly. 

“From my universe,” Logan answers. 

“There– There’s a version of me in your universe?” 

“There was.”

“And what happened to me?” 

Logan’s jaw tightens. “The same thing that happened to your Logan in this universe.”

“Oh.” Your face drops, eyes softening. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. 

Logan wants to run far from here, far from you because he feels himself yearning for more. He almost forgot how it felt like to be near you, to be inches away that he can just reach out and pull you into his arms. Your eyes captivate him, the kindness it expresses makes him feel like he matters. You had always made him feel that way that even through all of his anger, through all of the walls he put up, you showed him that he was deserving of something good. Even if he didn’t believe it himself. 

And you… You were the best thing to ever happen to him.

“Don’t know why you’re apologizin’,” Logan mutters. 

There’s an uncomfortable silence that engulfs the both of you. He can see the tears threatening to spill over, can see the way your lower lip is beginning to tremble and he has this sudden urge to console you, to wipe away the tears that have now fallen down your cheeks. 

“I’m sorry,” you repeat, bringing your hands up to wipe away the tears that seem to be trickling down your face nonstop. “I just– Losing my Logan just crushed me and I don’t think I’ve ever recovered.” 

My Logan. 

Logan can practically feel his heart beating in his chest. This isn’t a conversation that he thought he would be having and certainly not with someone he loved and died because of him. 

“That’s okay,” Logan responds quietly, his tone softening. “I don’t think it’s easy to recover from losing someone you love.”

“Did you– Did you love me in your universe?” 

Logan nods slowly, tightening his jaw as he gazes down at you. “With every fiber of my being.” 

Your eyes widen and stare up at him. This might be a different Logan, but hearing those words again just brings you back to the moment you last saw your Logan before he left to go take care of Charles. 

“Did you love me in yours?” Logan asks hesitantly.

You nod instantly, tears trickling down your cheek as you stare up at him. “I’d love you in every lifetime.” 

Logan feels his own set of tears pool at the corners of his eyes and he moves a hand to rest on the railing, fingers lightly brushing against yours as he stares into your eyes. 

“I’m not him,” he whispers. 

“I know,” you say quietly. “And I’m not her.” 

[karlachismylife]

My linear algebra class got moved to tomorrow and I have the terrible urge to post, so here are some speedrun headcanons (yes I'm aware that it's been done a few times, and I agree with the takes I've seen, but lemme just have my fun). It's something along the lines of favourite body part, I guess? But not quite.

I wouldn't say they're explicit, but there are suggestive parts.

Also these aren't strictly x reader, cuz I feel these can be applied to character x character relationships too, but I won't tag them cuz there's a lot of them and I don't wanna get yelled at by people who hate seeing even hints of x reader content. But I have very much been thinking GhostPrice, NikPrice, Ghoap, SoapGaz and a fuckton of others in the process. Just something cozy and loving to start the week since it's snowing (no they are not snow-related).

Price is a tits man. First of all, research shows that older men prefer boobs over ass (I KNOW that he's not actually an old man, it's a joke), but second - he just gives off vibes of someone who can spend hours holding his partner in his lap and just groping and kneading them breasts - doesn't matter the size, doesn't matter whether those are real breasts, implanted, just pecs; whether you have big areolas. mastectomy scars, absolute flatness, doesn't matter in the slightest: John will latch onto them, mouthing all over the skin, sucking hickeys and lovebites dangerously close to the area usually visible under their clothes. If there's not enough flesh to fill out his palms, he'll just hold what he gets while he sucks on those nipples eagerly, beard prickling sensitive, wet skin. John is also a tits man outside sex: his partner's chest is his favourite pillow, so he rests his head there or nuzzles between for a nap regularly. It's about the intimacy, the heartbeat and the sensual symbolism, not tits in particular.

Ghost is a lap/belly nuzzler. Nothing feels safer than being able to rest his troubled head on them soft thighs and hide in the softness of one's stomach from the world. He might be so much bigger than his partner's lap, or they might not have that much meat on their bones, but Simon still feels the safest when he's cradled like a baby and surrounded by the warmth of one of the most vulnerable parts of a human body. Hug his shoulders, shield him, push him into the folding between your belly and thighs - that keeps his demons away. And gives him a nice opportunity to tickle/blow raspberries when you least expect it. Probably finds delight in those occasions when yout stomach grumbles right above his chipped ear - you can feel his scarred lips stretch into a wide smile against your skin and you can rest assured he will let some little joke slip. But even more probably he will ask to stay for five more minutes before you can grab a bite to eat.

Soap is an ass man and he also has been ashamed 1,5 times in his life, so he will put his grabby paws on his partner's butt in all circumstances, beware. Sneaks a squeeze every time he passes by, slides his hands down during kisses, holds a posessive handful when he has his partner in his lap. It's just nice to look at and also very fidgety for his restless hands - so good for squeezing, kneading and pinching! Is a menace and will slap that arse - with a palm or, after he almost injured himself with the change/keys stuffed in your back pocket, a towel. Will be a coward and run away from revenge, but actually can take a rough spanking and give one too if you're into that. Absolutely uses your ass as a pillow, good luck shaking him off if you need to move - he somehow gets heavier when he's relaxed, but keeps a steel grip on your hips. If you wake him up by trying to escape, he'll just drag you back and bite. Oh yeah, he bites. He'll do anything with your ass, really, make out with it, take it out to candlelit dinner, tie a knot... are those sex metaphors? Yes. But also if he could marry someone's butt, he probably would.

Gaz feels like he would be into thighs, but also into hands. Like, every one of them isn't a straightforward character, but Kyle's duality strikes me the most for some reason. Probably because it's so trixter-y in its nature, he's such a romantic, moral man, very much focused on doing the right thing and serving as a compass for everyone around him, even if his views and principles evolve with time, but he's also such a little shit at heart - a real prankster and chaos agent. Incredibly clever and sly. So it feels right that while he loves just holding hands, be it out on the street or while lounging at home in a cuddle heap, tracing patterns on the back of his partner's palm and brushing his thumb over your knuckles, he is also a feral fox, gripping, biting and kissing those thighs, ogling the way they move when you walk, leaving marks and tracing those with his tongue... he's also a big lap napper, but he prefers his face stuck in the lap itself, arms wrapped around your thighs tightly. Or even better - one arm hugging your thighs like a comfy pillow, and the other resting peacefully with your hand clutched in his, fingers intertwined tenderly.

Nikolai is a waist grabber. He probably prefers tits over ass, yeah, but he's more focused on keeping his arm wrapped around his partner's waist - or at least pressing his big palm on the small of their back. Is a big tease and likes to keep everyone around him on their toes, so expect sudden pinches of tickle attacks on your sides. Comes up from behind to hug you and lock his huge paws on your stomach, probably interrupting whatever you were doing, but he just wants to hold what's his properly, arms full and securely tightened. Also he likes to kiss those spots behind his partner's ears (and tickle those too). He's not overly possessive since he very well knows only the dumbest of the dumb will try to steal from him (and also he's pretty sure he's doing enough to keep his partner with him willingly), but he just likes the feeling of having something he likes so much. Might stem from his strict upbringing, soviet scarcity of everything or maybe he's just a lil' bit greedy by nature. Either way, his preferred sex poses usually include him holding you by the waist a lot.

König is there to be the little spoon. Not only is it safe since he trusts his partner more than anyone, it also frees him from the necessity to hold eye contact - it's just tiring and a little anxiety-inducing for him, even if you say you're okay with him avoiding it. He feels like he's just expected to do it, but when his back is turned to you, he kinda isn't. And finally, it's just fun: he has quite a sense of humor, actually, and he won't deny that him being the "little" spoon with a partner who's smaller (doesn't matter if your size difference is comicly huge or you're actually not that far, you're definitely smaller than him). He also very much enjoys taking his partner's palm and placing it over his heartbeat - it's soothing and romantic, and also will help you notice if his anxiety spikes before he has some upsetting reaction. Never happened while you two cuddle, actually, but knowing you're there to just be with him and keep him safe is enough for this big boy. Will repay the favour by seating you between his legs, chest pressed to your back, and cuddling you like that - but only when seated for some reason. Might be spine problems, I dunno.

Valeria is a throat grabber, squeezer, biter, kisser and everything else you can imagine. She likes power, she's not ashamed of that, and she can handle having it. Marks her partner up with bitemarks and hickeys, and maybe even knife scratches and her name carved into the soft, vulnerable place between their collarbones. Likes to just run her fingers over your throat, feeling the pulse, stretching her grip to accomodate as much of your lifeline as she can into her threatening palm. But it's not always such obvious powerplay, she also enjoys kissing the soft skin gently and innocently, simply because it's sensitive and intimate. Her fingertips dance around your nape and throat while you're cuddling, sometimes they stop to feel your voice vibrating as you're telling her something, sometimes she flicks your earlobe plafully or scratches that nice place at the base of your skull. It's possessive and warm, and she would never actually threaten your life (probably), but the thrill gets both of you.

That's my random character speedrun for now, might add someone with a part two (feel free to request), and now back to my other things to do.

[kentopedia]

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖ 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 ... ft. sanji

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐒, 𝟏𝟖𝟗𝟗 . . .

they call you the sparkling diamond, a courtesan and star performer at the moulin rouge. when the cabaret falls on the cusp of bankruptcy, it’s up to you to seduce a wealthy duke, in order to fund your next production. but things go awry when you begin to fall for an impoverished writer.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬. f!reader, moulin rouge au, courtesan!reader x writer!sanji, background relationships, romance, prostitution, marriage, love triangles, secret relationships, burlesque club, alcohol / smoking, brief suicidal ideation, heartbreak, tragedy, spoilers for moulin rouge (obviously), mostly suggestive, but some explicit scenes, individual chapters will have additional warnings <3

𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬 ˚₊ · »-♡→ ongoing, currently at 19.7k words, writing pt 3 !

ᡣ𐭩 𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈 . . . the french are glad to die for love (8.7k)

after a night performing, you meet with the duke, but he's not anything like you'd been expecting.

ᡣ𐭩 𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐈 . . . yours are the sweetest eyes i've ever seen (10.9k)

there's a new hope for the moulin rouge, but your budding romance may prove to be a problem.

ᡣ𐭩 𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐈𝐈 . . . i can't help loving you

though your heart might be set on another, the duke is still determined to make you his.

ᡣ𐭩 𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐕 . . . every day i love you more and more

try as you might, the duke is far too clever for your romance with sanji to remain a secret.

ᡣ𐭩 𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐕 . . . why does my heart cry?

you're certain death would be a kindness compared to heartbreak.

ᡣ𐭩 𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐕𝐈 . . . until my dying day

the opening night of the show has arrived, and you can no longer run from all your troubles.

𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, ₊˚⊹♡

i'm very nervous about posting this, but i hope at least one person will enjoy >< i've put a lot of time and effort into this so far, so i will force myself to post

i'm not too far into one piece so sorry if the characterization is not the best </3 LOL

you do not need to be familiar with the movie/stage adaptation to read this ! it will follow the storyline with some slight deviations, and most of the dialogue will be my own, rather than following the script.

heart banner from @/cafekitsune

please comment if you would like to be tagged in upcoming parts!

[sameschmidtdiffname]

Tumblr WILL NOT let me post the fic and this ask at the same time and I've tried legit five times. So THANK YOU anon for the request and I'm sorry for the weirdness in uploading. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy this!

My Ghost.

Billy x Gender Neutral! Reader

Summery: You don't know what happened that night. Things were fine, life was good, then your partner is on the news for all sorts of shit you never would've thought him capable of the day prior. He was dead, he was evil, and you were trying to move on. But what's the proper etiquette when the dead show up on your door unannounced?

Tags: No use of Y/N, hurt/comfort, fake death, mentions of drinking, drug use/dealing, grieving, arguing, cursing, flashbacks, brief suggestive scenes, suicidal thoughts.

Other Works in This Series: 'Repentance' (Prequel to 'My Ghost') • 'Lapses' (Sequel to 'My Ghost')

Notes: The way I've been trying to upload this for two hours. Oh my fucking God. Anyways, everyone say thank you to anon for getting me to write something that doesn't make God cry.

-¤°》◇《°¤-

I'm not hard to please, but I'm not desperate despite what the rumors may say.

People enjoy gossip. People who don't know fuck all about you. And my standards are fine. Were fine. And I don't mean standards such as 'buys me flowers everyday' or 'doesn't deal coke.' I mean standards such as 'is a decent fucking person.'

"That's what I thought you were up until all of this fucking... disappearing for months!" I scream, anger fueling me. I don't let the other emotions win out, don't let them have a say. Because if I do, I'll be too conflicted and overwhelmed and then I'm gonna cry, and that's not fair.

People had warned me he was trouble. Terms such as 'wannabe cowboy,' 'rebel without a cause' were tossed around in warning. But to me, he was just Billy.

Then he was dead.

Now, he was here. He showed up at my door nine months after leaving me with a small little keychain on the kitchen table and a soft kiss on my forehead, saying he had some plans for that evening. But he'll be back soon.

Then he was on the news. And a gas station blew up. Gangs, stolen vehicles. He was probably dead. Things would be easier if he was dead.

Fine. Maybe I initially ignored warning signs. Maybe I was distracted by his handsome side profile, too busy admiring his nose to notice the occasions it was dusted with the trace of a fine powder. Maybe his hands were too beautiful for me to realize they were slipping money to men in dark jackets when we went out to the rougher parts of town. But he was mine and I was his, and overall he was a good person.

He was alive. He was alive and I was mad because if he was dead then at least it would be valid that for nine months I have had to deal with the accusatory stares of our neighbors assuming I knew, the pity from my loved ones, and the betrayel that kept me awake at night. It would mean he hadn't left me to deal with his repercussions, that maybe there was a valid excuse. An undiagnosed brain tumor that finally gave way to insanity, a gun to his head. Something that was not the worst case scenario of just... being an awful person. I could let his things rest around the house undisturbed, hiding from the world and waiting to find the courage to join him one day and living in denial in the meantime. What the fuck was all of this?

"I couldn't tell you," he keeps saying. "It was better if you knew nothing until I was sure I could come get you."

"Why didn't you just take me with you from the start?" I ask. I've been pacing the floor for the past twenty minutes ever since he showed up. It was better than throwing every breakable object in the cheap, worn down shack of a house at him, which was my second instinct. My first was to pull him into my arms, draw the curtains shut and hide him away so that he'll never leave again. Like an idiot.

He laughs bitterly. "You would not be asking that if you knew what the fuck I went through," he says. His words sound like they should be angry, but there's this lightness to them like he can't let himself think too much about it. It just makes me angrier.

"Don't fucking laugh!" I snap. "Do you think any of this is funny?"

"I think you're funny when you're mad," he deflects, smiling. "You got this whole routine. Pacing, nose twitching. I like the Shirley Temple stomps, like you're a kid."

I groan loudly, the noise almost sounding like a low scream in my throat.

"You owed money to fucking- who?" I yell.

"The details don't matter-"

"When I have been grieving your death for nine months, they fucking matter!" I snap. His brows furrow, his hands mid air as if to say 'the fuck did I do?'

"You know me, okay? I don't get caught," he says as though it were obvious.

"I know fucking nothing!" I practically scream.

When we met he was just a guy at a bar, handsome, wearing that same ridiculous jacket that I couldn't help but stroke the white fluff on, tequila running through my veins.

"Can I help you?" He asked, smirking.

"Just wanted to see what it felt like," I said.

"Wanna feel something else?" He asked, his chin resting on his head.

"Oh, fucking gross. Fuck o-"

"I was talking about this," he said, whipping out his keys to show off an odd, weirdly shaped keychain with short, stiff fuzz. "Don't call me a pervert just cause you're one."

He was smiling. It was an easy smile. Careless, happy with life. I loved that smile. It meant things were always alright as long as he was smiling.

He was smiling on the photo they used for the manhunt.

We'd danced the whole night. He didn't know hardly any of the songs, causing him to be off beat. I was too drunk to keep time, so I stepped on his leather boots enough times there was a visible scuff on the top of one by the end of the night. I always felt bad, offering to replace or help pay to fix it. He wouldn't let me.

"They're a keepsake," he'd insist. "A living memory." He wore them everyday.

He's wearing sneakers, today.

At the end of the night, I stumbled out of the bar with a note in my coat pocket. It took two weeks for me to wear that coat again, and when I found the slip I'd almost thrown it away, assuming it was something dumb. But when I saw the worst handwriting in the world displaying a number belonging to someone named 'Keychain Guy,' I almost couldn't wait to call.

"Bullshit," Billy snaps. "You know me better than anyone."

"Don't say that," I say, putting a hand out protectively to keep him away. "That's exactly why everyone thinks I was just fine with that whole- fucked up thing!"

A gas station burned. A stolen vehicle. People were dead. People were dead.

Billy was presumed dead.

There was no funeral. He had no family, and none of mine wanted to put money into something that would be protested by the whole town anyways. No body to bury, nothing to do but gather up his things and smoke what remained in his stash until people came to nurse me back to life. By that point there wasn't even relief in drugs. The taste simply reminded me of better times cooking in the kitchen as we blew the smoke into each others faces, or worse. Better. Whatever.

I never questioned when Billy went out of town. I knew his work had details I didn't want nor need to know. Money was tight. But Billy always came home with little things whenever he went on unexpected trips. Knick knacks, snacks, some item I'd seen at the store and picked up to make a comment about. Had he been particularly forthcoming about his dealing when we started dating? No. He said he worked for a local small business, which technically isn't untrue. But about six months in, he was the one who approached me and sat me down at the small, rickty round table to tell me the truth. And that's what mattered to me. The economy is shit and it's not like it was meth, so who am I to judge?

About a year into it, I was begging for him to do something else.

"I don't like you disappearing," I told him. "I'm scared one day you're gonna piss someone off and that'll be the end. Then what am I gonna do?"

"Then you're gonna make sure they don't fuck up my face during the embalming process for the funeral," Billy said around his hand rolled cigarette. I whip the small dish towel at him, making him laugh and protect his small ashtray that I made him for Christmas the year prior. It was shitty, uneven, and I'm 99% sure a fire hazard. But he wouldn't use any other ones unless I was the one who bought them for him, and even then he favored this one. 'When this place goes up in flames,' I thought, 'I'll regret that gift.'

I'd kept it by the kitchen window every day since he'd died. "Died." It was his spot.

He moves to sit there now, looking in his pockets for the small box of prerolled cigarettes.

"People know you weren't involved," he says dismissively.

"Your friends know. What about the old ladies at church? The checkout clerks at the store? How about the fucking mailman?" I shout, convinced I'm still talking to the dead. "You think they know the ins and outs of the local psychos support group?" I ask, gesturing and stepping closer.

I was the local outcast now. Not to be trusted, not worth kindness. Shame was my title, and when Billy appeared on my doorstep at an hour where only I was awake I was sure I'd caught the same awful disease that must have been what sent him spiraling that winter day. It wasn't until he pushed the door open fully, taking me into his arms and pressing a warm kiss to my lips that I knew he was real. It was a feeling I was in the early stages of forgetting, blurry and cold. But here he was, the stubble on his chin a bit longer and his ears missing the small hoops that had glittered in the sunlight when he walked out the door.

Then I'd pushed him away. And the fight began.

"I'm not a fucking psycho," he argues. His hands pat around his outfit, searching. "You got a lighter?"

"Fuck off." I kept his favorite in my left pocket. I had to be careful what things of his I wore or kept on my person. People close to me knew I would have never condoned his actions, but even they had glared at me in the early wake of Billy's death when I dared to wear one of his shirts out of the house, or more commonly one of his thick leather jackets. But a lighter can be hidden, and unless you had borrowed it you wouldn't know it had specifically been his. So I kept it with me all the time, just feeling it next to my skin with the only barrier being the fabric of my pocket. Without a thought, I cover the small item as though he can see right through me. Picking up on the hint, he's rises from the table and begins walking over to me.

"Don't be a dick, just let me borrow it," he says, holding out his hand.

"Fuck off," I snap.

"You've said that. I just need it for two seconds," he says as his hands begin to gently grab at me, one on my shoulder and the other dipping into my pocket.

"Get the fuck off of me!" I yell, slapping at him.

"Just let me have-"

He cuts himself off as he pulls out the lighter from my pocket, his thumb grazing over the printed picture. The Statue of David. He'd bought because it made us laugh. One side was the regular statue, the other a close up of its small genitals with cursive writing underneath spelling the art piece's name.

"Oh," Billy says quietly.

We stand for a moment, silent. He doesn't seem sure what to do. My lungs burn with unheaved sobs. I fucking hate this.

"You were gonna come back," I finally say quietly. I hate how my voice sounds when I'm upset. I hate that I'm wearing his dogtag, an item he'd bought at a World War II museum in middle school that he gave me for our first Christmas because we were both too broke to actually buy each other anything, hence the poorly made ashtray. I hate that when I sleep at night it's in his clothes that I rarely wash because the idea of losing his smell makes me want to scream. I hate that his scent is different from the bottle of cologne he kept next to my makeup, one time spilling all over the entire bathroom counter because we'd gotten too wrapped up in each other, dragging our nails down each others backs and watching ourselves in the mirror until one wrong move of my hand revealed he'd been a bit too careless about screwing the lid back on earlier in the day. I'd always warned him about that.

I'd been in the bathroom putting on my permanently scented blush when I got the text.

"I was going to," he said softly. "Then I couldn't."

"So what?" I say, not daring to turn and face him, choosing instead to stare at where the cheap, old wood paneling of the wall meets the shaggy, stained carpet that you have to wear shoes on due to the staples that have begun sticking out of it. "You just propose to someone and then pretend to die?"

Valentines Day was an awfully cheesy day to do it. So it's a good thing it was a technicality.

The day had been lovely. Billy had saved up a little to take me to a local hibachi place, telling me to wear my best outfit and jewelry. It was slightly overkill, but it's the small things in life, isn't it?

We'd come home with a bottle of wine, a low budget movie to ignore and hands searching desperately for each other.

"I love you," he'd said between pants. "You're mine."

"Buy a ring," I'd dared. Our minds were buzzed, the bottle half empty and our clothes thrown away without care. Took me weeks to find his both of his socks.

I hadn't meant for him to take it seriously. But I guess he decided it was time.

Two days later I thought it was odd when he walked into the house with my favorite lunch. It wasn't expensive really, we just usually got it for special occasions or days that had been mentally harder for me. And things were normal that day. I was getting ready for my shift, running around like I always do trying to make sure I've got everything.

"Your coffee's in the cup, will you just sit down?" He laughed, watching me. I quickly collected the take out box, sipping my coffee and wincing over its temperature.

"Fuck, that burns," I cursed. He wrapped his arms around me, trying to get me to sit at the table. "Baby, I can't," I protested softly, but I was laughing. He was peppering me in kisses, giving me those big puppy dog eyes everyone knew were my weakness. He wanted for nothing so long as he looked at me just like that.

"Just this once," he asked, pressing a kiss to my cheek. I couldn't help the blush and giggle that rose from me, but I also couldn't be late.

"I'll make up for it," I promised, slipping away and running into the bedroom to get my shoes. When I ran back in, pulling them on and coming to kiss him goodbye, I nearly fell over when I saw him on one knee, smiling and looking at me like 'I told you so.'

I don't like how itchy the ring feels on my middle finger as I twirl it in thought.

"You don't know what happened," he pleaded, his hands still on me. "If you would just listen to me-"

"The news gave a pretty good description, William. I don't think there's missing pieces in my head, unlike you," I say coldly, detaching from myself so to not have to deal with my emotions. This makes him stiffen, pulling away and resuming his place at the kitchen table, lighting his cigarette and placing the ashtray in front of him like nothing has changed when everything has.

It feels like I'm out of time. Like I've been shoved into a picture of what my life looked like before. Except the house was never this clean, clothes always scattered about. Not just in a fit of passion, we just had bad habits when it came to picking up. Billy would always say the chairs are more decorations then they are seats, anyways. "Why would you use those when you have such a nice seat here?" He'd ask, wiggling his hips and placing his hands behind his head, making me laugh.

Billy never looked so well put together in the house, usually in a wife beater and his hair framing his face. He'd always joked he looked like a dirty hippie around me, and I'd always show him how much I liked that. Not that he looked fantastic now. When we went out he was known for putting in effort. He always had more hair products than me, which I found funny. Though he refused makeup. Once I'd managed to talk him into eyeliner. 'Guyliner' I'd teased. He liked it, but said it should stay between us with a wink before asking where to get dinner. Now he sits before me in clothes obviously stolen to help him look unremarkable, his hair shaggy and uncut, so different from the man I loved.

"Who are you?" I asked him. That man didn't shrink away from accountability.

He sighed, smoke swirling around him as he wipes his face with his hand.

"I don't know. Can't tell if I'm better or worse, to be honest," he admits softly. His eyes look haunted, heavy bags underneath. It's the way his shoulders sag as though his will to go on is slowly draining from him in this very moment that makes me want to break now. Like whatever reason he had for still going was fruitless.

I didn't like the way we mirrored each other like this.

I slowly scuff my feet towards him, tapping my fingers against the back of the wooden chair before pulling it out to sit across from him. It's a start.

"So if you tell me," I say slowly. "Am I going to wish you were dead?"

He doesn't look at me. "I don't know."

Great.

The night is long. Morning comes without an invitation, the blue sky beginning to glow through the shitty blinders I always told Billy we should replace one day. I understand less than when we started, we've both cried more than once, and between our fingers is cigarette stubs and the feeling of each others skin, hands laced together as though another click of an old remote to an outdated TV with batteries you had to rub against your shirt to make work would reveal the smouldering remains of a gas station, displaying the estimated body count and deeming one of us as a devil of the worst kind, ripping us apart.

"Jesus," I say when it's over.

"Yeah," he says. "So, needless to say, my anxiety is shit now."

It isn't funny. It's a tragic statement. But when we both glance into the others eyes, it's his small little smirk that makes me laugh like I haven't since my mother sent me the local news report with his picture covering the front page. The same one that shows everything is still okay.

"I'm sorry," I say. Then the laughing turns into sobbing, and then I can't breathe. And I really am sorry.

I'm sorry I couldn't help him. I'm sorry he went out on a romantic whim and borrowed money he shouldn't have for the ring I was too ashamed to wear on the proper finger. I'm sorry he couldn't come back for me. And I'm sorry for hating him when he showed up unannounced at my door.

"Hey," he says gently, standing and crossing to me, removing his jacket and wrapping it around my shoulders to comfort me. It's unfamiliar, evidence of a life he wouldn't have led if he had just stayed by me and it upsets me, but his lips against my wet cheeks ground me, familiar and soothing me, coaxing me into wrapping my arms around him, clawing my trembling fingers through his hair. Still soft. Still combed.

"You can't stay here," I choke out.

"I know," he says quietly. There's nothing for a long time, our bodies shaking as we cling to each other. In our arms are the unspoken months of grief. Of his longing for our home, of my insanity. Death looms over the furniture, light hidden away lest it take away my sacred treasures I'd used to keep his spirit close to me.

"I can't lose you again," I say.

"I know," he says, smelling my hair and placing a soft kiss on top of my head. "But I can't promise stability if you follow me."

My brows furrow, my mind racing in confusion, my hopes rising. Follow?

"I know a guy," he says quickly, his arms tighter as if scared I'll turn away. "Says he can get me a new identity and a one way ticket to somewhere. I don't know where yet, but it's worth a try."

My fingers trace his back, swirling invisible patterns over his shirt. He'd always liked that after a rough day. I can feel the tension begin to slowly fall away from him at the contact, his breathing growing deeper and more steady. "And you want me to come?"

"Need," he corrects. "I don't regret leaving you, but I can't stay away. Even if it's more kind to let you mourn and find a better life."

A new life. A new identity. New name, new everything.

Maybe I am insane. Maybe this exactly the kind of mental break Billy had that day. Maybe I was doomed to follow his spirit no matter what. Maybe this is a second chance. Maybe God had granted me a mercy I'll never be able to repay, no matter how many night I spend in worship at a church or between this man's legs. Maybe I'd spend every day looking over my shoulder, paranoid and eventually turning cruel to strangers so to keep this one person everyone told me to let go of from the very beginning.

But the same Billy.

"Can he do a marriage license?" I ask after a long silence. I can hear him laugh, pulling away to look at me.

"That eager?" He asks softly, his eyes gentle, thumb stroking my cheek. I lean into his touch, softly placing a kiss on his palm.

▪︎》◇《▪︎

"Well," I say, "I already have the ring."

Masterlist

As cute as this was, please have better standards than the Reader I wrote in this fic. No man is worth that. I am DEADASS. Anyways, love y'all <3

[jelsah27]

imposter syndrome talked ab just some forewarning

In History Class

MC: *walks into class with a small smile on their face*

Deuce: Good morning, MC. You seem happy today.

Ace: Yeah what's got you all smiley?

MC: Well, Kalim and Jamil were at my dorm the other day. Kalim really wanted to know about foods from my world and Jamil tagged along for obvious reasons. At on point Kalim wanted to look at my room and he found my snap-out-of-it post-it notes on the wall.

Deuce: Snap-out-of-it post-it notes?

MC: Oh, yeah they help remind me that a lot of the problems I think I have aren't really as problematic as I think. Like "Every personality is a creation of experiences that make you you." or "My friends like me because I am me". You see a while ago I figured out that I have a bit of Imposter Syndrome.

Ace: A bit of what?

MC: Well, it's pretty much I feel like I'm not the person everyone thinks I am. I'm not the gifted child everyone remembers or the smart person everyone seems to think I am. That if I can't hurry up and live up to everyone's expectations that they'll figure out I'm not as great a person they think I am and be disappointed and angry that all I am is an empty shell of who they believed I was and leave. Some times it will also come in the form of believing that my friends only want to be around me out of pity or that if I don't like what they like or want to do the same things as them then they will leave, even if they've reassured me they love me. I think the worst thoughts I ever got from it was when I started to believe that my personality was fake and that I didn't know why I was so different than the kid everyone liked. I started to believe that I had faked my personality from different shows, books, or even people to even have one.

MC: Honestly I didn't even realize it was imposter syndrome till someone else pointed it out to me after telling them this. I genuinely had no clue I was so disgusted with myself till I was talking with them about it and they pointed out that none of what I was saying was true, that everybody knew who I was and loved me as I am. I think I cried when they told me that.

Deuce: Prefect... I had no idea...

MC: It's alright, I've been learning to get better at combating it. Anyway, Kalim asked me about it and I basically told him and Jamil what I just told you. He then asked me what I'm doing to overcome it. So I told him about the main things that have helped. Reminding myself constantly that I am not fake or hiding who I am from people I love and who love me. Whenever I feel negative thoughts try to take over, think about one positive thing that I have done or something someone had said they love about me for every dark thought. If it gets to bad though, go to someone I trust and ask them flat out about those thoughts, it helps a lot. And twice a week I make a post-it or journal about one or two small things. Maybe a compliment someone gave me, or a task I completed. So every day or so since they've-

Jamil: *walks into the room* Prefect, here. I must get to class before Kalim catches something on fire I mean gets into trouble. Have a good day.*hands MC a small note and leaves the classroom*

MC: *smiling contently* It say 'Thank you for helping Kalim study yesterday great sevens know he needed it and your smile is unique'

Deuce: *getting out paper* If it helps you, I'll gladly join in.

Little bit of a rant u can skip I hope you enjoyed the post <3 Y'all I'm sorry I didn't mean to trauma dump but I really like the idea. But the story is true and I did cry (and it was in a restaurant) when my sis told me I was wrong and she knew who I really and she loves me. That our friends won't leave because all humans have opinions and we are allowed to clash. And that my personality isn't fake, that everyone's personality is what they've created themselves and that people add and take away from themselves all the time and work on parts of themselves they don't like to become better. That my brain was just being dark when there was many lights around me, waiting to be recognized. If any of y'all read this its just one side of imposter syndrome, there are a few versions and many levels of severity. I genuinely think you are awesome and perfectly imperfect the way you are!

Anywho thanks for reading!

[hiswhiteknight]

Unbelievably Outlandish - Part 12

Summary: Before starting down a new crossroads, the Reader goes onto an adventure of literary traveling. Suddenly tossed into an unbelievable story that has swept the world, The Outlander Series itself. How will a twenty first century woman survive?

Note: It has been a super long time since I've posted, like a year or more. I'm going to try to post weekly, but it depends on my schedule. As for a tag list, I'll be starting a new one – please send me a message to be added to the tag list. I don't always get to look through comments, so please message me.

Note Note: I own no characters, except reader, clearly this is based off the lovely book series Outlander by Diana Gabaldon and tv show. This follows more the tv show, but it’s far from accurate. I’m going to try to get better with using less proper English, but who knows maybe I’ll get into Scottish slang.

Pairing: Jamie Fraser x Female Reader

Words: 2700 (SO LONG)

Warning: Angst, playfulness, cursing, slow start

It turned out, in Angus's mind, the dog turned out to be a good distraction for you. It kept you from running around because you found yourself always training the dog. She was an angelic thing, who always got into some kind of trouble along the way. Your whole life you've been much of a rule follower, but as of recently you were finding you had a lot in common with the dog.

With this being said, you have yet to find a name you'd like for her. Often you found yourself filling the boredom by naming old fictional characters you loved when you remember the character Gilbert Blythe from Anne of Green Gables. Outside from being incredibly charming, he was intelligent, kind, and had patience and devotion for the ones he loved. You imagined you had a lot in common with Anne Shirley or you hope you did. And with that thought, you named the dog Blythe.

Jamie enjoyed watching you work with the mischievous creature. He could tell this was the first time you were filled with joy since you arrived in Scotland, "Why don't you go over and talk to the girl," Murtagh said from next to him.

He shook out of his daze, acting like he wasn't doing anything weird, "I like my bullocks, thank you."

Murtagh shook his head, "She wouldn't have that mutt if it wasn't for you, you know."

The men continue to work around and pack things away, "You and I both know she is a stubborn woman, if she wanted that dog enough she would have got it without myself or Ned mentioning a word."

"Coward," Murtagh whispered to Jamie.

"Damn right," he chuckled back.

You were working on the pups reactivity and word commands. While growing up you didn't get to have a pet, but your mother told you about when she raised dogs as a child. Your family moved around a lot, so having a pet wasn't in the cards. "Don't get too comfortable girl, we're going to be off soon," Angus barked at you from afar.

You turned around losing the smile on your face. With the time being away from the castle, you still hadn't earned much trust and you most definitely didn't give the men much energy. Outside of the pup, you were like a empty soul and it was coming to be more evident with every passing day. The dog plopped herself next to you watching Angus with her tongue out. Even Blythe was better respected and well liked by the men, even Angus though he'd deny it if anyone commented. Their acceptance of the dog made you more tolerant to their attitude and patriarchal manner. "Yes master," you bow.

"It's nice you are starting to learn your manners," he smirked back while making gestures towards the men.

With a deep inhale and low tolerance of attitude today you started to trudge towards your horse, "It was sarcasm, idiot," you grumbled.

He appeared to have the same tolerance of my attitude, "Watch your tongue girl or you'll get it cut off," Angus advanced forward while gripping his dagger.

Jamie and Murtagh were about to make a move when another man's voice appeared, "Everything alright miss," a British voice caught your attention.

Angus directed an aggressive response to the man. You turned to look at the man and in your daze started to register things about this man. He had a proper accent, boots, and his hair read a gentleman. He was clearly a British soldier and he could mean serious trouble. You turned to look at Jamie for a split second before charming a smile, "Excuse me sir," you asked, ignoring the comments from the other man to rile this man. This was not the time and place.

You could tell the tension with Dougal increased. He didn't trust what you would say, "I was asking if you were alright," he stepped forward again, ignoring the men behind you.

"Oh, I'm sorry you had to hear all that, sir. You shouldn't have had to hear a lady speak out of tune like that. It was very unbecoming of me," you looked embarrassed. Let's hope your acting skills are up to par. You ignored Murtagh mutter unbecoming to make fun of you, "It's just Angus here is a very, very, very," you paused to look at him, "Very distant cousin." You turn back to smile at the officer, "I sometimes gets so overwhelmed by his voice and tone I just lash out. I apologize," you put you hand on your heart. The dog looked up at you oddly, not recognizing your behaviors.

He smiled at you, not acknowledging the grumbling Scots behind you, "Not necessary, my lady I understand quite well actually." He bent down to scratch the puppy sitting in front of you, "I'm sorry your accent."

You scratch the back of you neck, "Right, I must sound so improper. I'm Y/N O'Mulligian. I came to visit some family here from the colonies at my brother's request. He said I could use some real life hard work. He likes to call me a debutante," you sent him a teasing smile.

Responding well to your story, he rises and smiles at you. A relief was lifted off your shoulders, you were almost past this moment when Dougal interrupted, "Enough," he shouted, "She is the guest of the clan MacKenzie and her business is none of yours." You clearly spoke too soon because the officers defenses shot back up.

"So off you go," Angus finished.

You had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes, "Are you sure you are alright, miss," he looked unshaking at you. He clearly felt so much privilege he did not care remotely about the strapping Scottish men standing around him. You wanted to smack yourself in the forehead how stupid these men had to be to not recognize the importance of this one man.

Dougal looked as if he was going to fight the man. You put your arm on his bicep to stop him, "Of course, good sir," you smile, "It's nice to know chivalry is not dead. I have more hard work to learn as you can see, it was very nice meeting you."

"Pleasure is all mine," he smiled back before frowning around the man watching this moment. He backed away into the blacksmith area to continue his work.

A minute passed by and you felt a firm grip on your arm drag you towards your horse, "It's best you didn't speak," Dougal scolded in your ear.

Anger surged through your body and it took every fiber of your being to say nothing. But as you were shoved onto your horse, you looked in the direction of the soldier and back at Jamie. You knew if you yelled it'd bring attention to Jamie, a fugitive to the English Army.

You continue to seethe on the ride. Blythe sat up, doing her best to see over the horses head to look ahead. "What's the dog's name," Jamie trotted next to you.

"Blythe," you muttered directly.

"What a cute English name," he emphasized on one word of his sentence.

You pulled back on your horse and halted, "Excuse me?"

He chose to stop with you, trying to not say directly what he'd like to say. It's been odd between you and Jamie. You weren't sure if you were pushing him away out of anger or fear, but none the less at this moment it appeared to be anger, "Nothing, it's a cute name."

A sarcastic laugh left your mouth, "No, no, you had a tone," the man halt to watch another scene unfold, "You clearly have something you want to add, some hidden message you feel you want to hide. Say it."

"Nothing, you seem to just like the English a bit more than an Irish Woman from the colonies I thought would," he said like his words meant nothing. It didn't matter the fact that maybe he felt jealous or he had a right to comment on any intention or likes you have. That comment engulfed your whole body into volcano, hell fire fiery.

Heat was written all over your face and Murtagh didn't have enough time cool down your fire with rationality, "The boy is just saying, you were awfully chummy with the Brit," Angus chimed in, "like a girl in heat."

And there goes Mt. St. Helen, "Un-Fucking believable, do you know how fucking dumb you are, like every single on of you are just egg head fucking dumb," you scream enough to make the echo quake the woods around you.

"Lass," Ned sent a warning your way.

Tears started to brim your eyes and Jamie knew he'd set you up to fail again. You point to Ned, clearly a man of reason, "That man back there," you continued to yell, "Was an English Officer out patrolling." You looked to Jamie and everything deflated in you. Everything from the past and the reality of your new world just collapsed in your soul, "I was trying to save you."

A sigh leaves your lips and you talk lightly while using your hands to emphasize your point, "Men are idiots and will always fall for charm, so I used mine to protect you all," you continued to go on, "Call me a hussy, I don't care. And that plan to charm the officer actually worked until you opened your trap, my lord," you bowed your head at Dougal. Something than broke in you, in that moment, you were exhausted at being angry. You had no more fight in you. You gave Jamie another look, "I was scared. I was trying to save you," you whisper.

Taking a deep breath, you dismounted from you horse, "Now where are you going," Angus shouted at you.

The anger stirred up again, spinning around to look at him, "To relieve myself, thank you," you speak loudly while stomping into the woods.

You knew what Dougal did to Jamie in the pubs and you weren't sure why. It wasn't much of your business, but you could see it chipping into Jamie. You were stuck again in your thoughts, give into this new world and let these people in or continue to bury who you knew you were inside a dark cave and never leave.

The ride to the next village was quiet, especially after finding Scottish men hung out on display. You wanted to vomit at the lack of humanity in the cruel act. If this was the normal the British did to Scots, I'm not all shocked of their lack of kindness and trust towards me. I'm sure I wasn't helping the matter either.

When you got to the pub, you chose to join in with the drinking. The owner made a bee line as Blythe trotted behind you and laid at your feet, "Lass, we do not let do-," he stopped mid sentence from the look you were giving him. You were sitting up straight, dead face.

"You were saying, sir," you answered curtly.

"What can I get for you miss," he finished instead.

"A pint of whatever, I am not picky," you said, resting your feet on the chair in front of you.

The men went a distance away from you, you imagine to process the thing they just witnessed. A man approached you with a smile on your face and you shake your head putting your other foot on a chair and shoving it away from your table. He quickly turn around, "You'd make more friends if you weren't so prickly."

Murtagh patted at the dog, "My expression and acts are nothing but kind, sir." He shook his head, "Plus, I don't need any more friends when I only need you."

He chuckles, looking at Jamie, "It was a kind thing you did with the soldier. I'll be the only one to admit, that was a good eye you have."

"Don't think much of it, it was also self preservation because I'm not a exactly the kind British soldiers have a keen sense to protect," the man brought you your pint and you started to drink while you viewed in your surroundings.

He pointed at you, "You like everyone to think you're this cold hearted she witch."

"Maybe I am those things," you said like it didn't bother me to have that reputation.

Murtagh shook his head, "You are quite the opposite lass and the only person you are hurting are you." You roll your eyes sighing as he looks at your with a smirk, "And maybe a red headed boy who I suspect would do anything to see you smile once again." You sit up straighter as Murtagh stands while looking at you, while gesturing to Jamie. He lifts his eyebrows speaking you the truth, "Don't think I only talk to you because your good company. I get sick of seeing the boy mope around with his worry for you. A single smile from you can set his day."

You glare at him as your cheeks warm red, "Mind your business."

When he walks away, you sit and continue to process your reality and options. Every now and again you catch a glance at Jamie. You could see his expression and the change in him over the last few weeks. You stand walking your glass over to the bar with Blythe walking behind you. You could tell Dougal was about to start his speech. He wouldn't need Jamie today if you guessed right. Those hanging men were part of this community they didn't need to see Jamie's scars. You leaned against a pillar near Jamie, "You alright," you asked him catching eyes with Murtagh.

You shake off his knowing look. Jamie stood up straight looking at you bewildered from the sudden change in your demeanor, "Are you talking to me?"

"Don't make it a thing, just answer the question," you whisper.

"Aye, I'm fine," he whispers back, glancing at you for a second too long into silence. He clears his thoughts, "If you don't mind me asking, what changed your mind with speaking to me?"

You smirk, "Murtagh paid me."

He shook his head, "Sure," he was trying to hold back a smile. Something appeared to pop up in his head, "Look Deoiridh, I'm sorry about."

"No," you stopped him, "Jamie, I'm stubborn and I don't know what I'm doing. I'm not from a place like this, so."

You noticed a change in his eyes when you said his name instead of Mr. MacTavish. This is where he stopped you, "I only want to help."

"Does that mean you agree I'm stubborn because Murtagh implied I was prickly earlier and that's why I don't make friends," you say while trying to hold back a grin.

He shook his head making his red hair shake with it, “You see comments like that are a trap and I will not be stepping on that one.”

“Smart man,” you say to him.

“And now a compliment, I might think you are wanting to be my friend again,” he whispered back with a smirk.

You see Dougal getting ready to do your speech, “I should be getting out of here and up to my room. I shouldn’t be down here when,” you stopped to look at Dougal, “Well good night.”

“Goodnight Y/N,” he whispered back.

“And Jamie, just for transparency sake, the jury is still out if we are friends,” he paused appearing to hold his breath. You offer a small smile, “I need you to walk over to Murtagh and tell him I was nice then I'll consider being your friend. You know for the sake of proving Murtagh wrong. It's the price you have to pay for my friendship.” And before he can respond, you and Blythe make your way upstairs.

[andypantsx3]

i just know i'm about to get myself in trouble again but i've been thinking about all those posts that are like "will x reader authors PLEASE tag their fics so i don't have to see them" which is kind of a fair ask, and i do personally tag my own fics, but one thing i've been thinking is like, unless you have those tags blocked, even if you don't specifically search for x reader, i'm pretty sure x reader fics show up in the general character search anyway because of how tumblr search works

so like, it's not because so many authors are using the general character tags anyway that people are seeing all these fics. and i've also seen people ask "will x reader authors stop using the main character tags" and like, again i personally don't, but i also don't feel like that is a fair ask?? the fic concerns the character in question, so it's relevant. just because some people might not want to see x reader content, doesn't mean others won't mind it. i can understand asking to use the x reader tags but to go as far as to ask people not to use the character tags is so strange to me.

it's the internet. it's a shared space. that's gonna involve actually sharing and compromising in some places. it's really on people with icks/squicks to do their best to curate their own experience online while also respecting others' rights to their best experience as well. idk.

[evilwickedme]

hey it’s me from the Batman posts! (the one that left the tags abt wanting to get into Batman but having no clue where to start)

If its not too much trouble, I’d love any advice on where to start with Batman or Batfam(?) stuff, I saw someone suggest reading the Batman: Wayne Family Adventures thing on webtoon as an intro to the characters so I’ve been doing that, but I’ve got no clue about any of the official comics or shows/movies/etc. I’ve never read a comic series before so everything is super new to me.

I know different series(?)/versions(?) can be wildly different bc of different writers and stuff, I definitely trust your taste on what would be good / enjoyable bc the posts you’ve been reblogging are like 90% of whats gotten me interested in the first place

Thank you, and absolutely no rush!!

Hey I am legit SO happy that you sent me this ask this is literally my favorite thing to do!!!!

So to start with I do actually agree that wfa is a good starting point but for a different reason than I feel most people would recommend it. The thing about wfa is that it has a consistent design for every character, is humorous, touches not only on the main batfamily members but also many extended members, other noteworthy people in Gotham, and the batfamily's cast of friends and teammates as well. This means that while its approach to characterization is incredibly fanon-y, it's a good basis for how to continue. You read wfa, and you know that Dick is the first robin, wears ridiculous costumes, was batman for a bit, is nightwing, part of the teen titans... this isn't a lot, but it's just enough to orient yourself before jumping into some of the most convoluted art ever created, aka the comic world.

Another tip I'm gonna give you is to let yourself be confused. I think the people who end up sticking with comics are people who are aware that if they pick up a comic it's very likely the writers and artists have read and worked on comics that you haven't read yet or even heard of, so you're always going to be missing something. That's fine. If something is really important to the plot, it gets explained; if it's not, it's windowdressing. Often there'll be little boxes saying what comic and issue they're referencing, so if you find it interesting you can just go read it - otherwise, if it's not there, you can google it, or go to any comic fan and ask "hey do you know what this is about?" and if they know, they will answer. There is nothing a comic fan wants more than to explain how to get into their favorite character/s, trust me.

Anyway this has been a very wordy intro but here are some potential starting points for the batfamily!

Bruce Wayne

You know who he is. Pick up an issue of Batman or Detective Comics and he's there. Pick up an issue of any other DC comic and there's like a 30% chance he's there too.

Batman: The Long Halloween

Noir style, investigative, early in batman's career, two face's origin story

It has a sequel-ish story called Batman: Dark Victory that's almost as good

Batman: Hush

Batman: Year One

Frankly there's not going to be much information in this comic you don't already know, but also, it's a classic, so might as well

Batman: A Death in the Family & Batman: A Lonely Place of Dying (crossover with the new teen titans)

First story is Jason's death, second is Tim's introduction and arguably the start of the batfamily being a family

Tim drags Dick back into the fray in ALPOD. It's just sort of the kind of thing he does

Do NOT confuse A Death in the Family with Death OF the Family, which is a much newer story, and Not Good

Batman: Under the Red Hood

Jason's villain arc! More details below

Batman himself isn't actually my favorite but you know he's got some decent stuff since he's, uh, the main character. DC doesn't have a multiverse the way Marvel does - and getting into that would be a whole separate ask - but their elseworlds are stories about the characters in different situations. Some ones I've heard good things about include Gotham by Gaslight, Dark Knights of Steel, Batman: Last Knight on Earth, and I keep meaning to get into Batman: White Knight, which is a whole other universe on its own. I've been trying to get into more modern batman stuff and unfortunately I just haven't clicked with anything.

Dick Grayson

Guy has been in a lot of things. If you read a random Batman comics from before 1980, there's a good chance he'll be there.

Teen Titans and The New Teen Titans and Titans (1980s-2000s)

I haven't read enough of these to say much of anything, but he's a founding member of the TT

Nightwing

His post-Robin superhero identity. At first only present in NTT and occasional Batman comics, but eventually he gets his own miniseries in the early 90s, followed by an ongoing. Recently-ish started reading them and they're angsty and very 90s in a lot of ways but I'm enjoying it

Modern Nightwing titles also exist. For sure.

Batman & Robin by Morrison

In one of DC's ten million crises, Bruce "dies", and after a short story called Battle for the Cowl, Dick ends up becoming Batman. Damian is his Robin. It's an interesting time for batman comics, although not necessarily the best writing that Dick has ever gotten.

Batman: The Dark Mirror

Also a great story for the Gordons. Bruce is back from the dead, but Dick is still Batman in Gotham. This was my first even Batman comic and it's really good.

Obviously there's other stories, such as Grayson, where he becomes a super spy for a bit. There's a million and a half reading lists for Dick out there as he's a massively popular character and he's one of the characters DC is pushing the most right now. As with all the rest of these, these are good entry points; from there I trust you to find your way

Barbara Gordon

The original Batgirl, sort of (nobody really brings up bette kane unless they're pointing out that babs wasn't the original Batgirl, she's just not important). She appears sporadically in silver and bronze age batman comics and detective comics, but she quits being Batgirl shortly before being raped and shot in the spine by the joker in Batman: the Killing Joke, which I purposefully did not put on my rec list.

Birds of Prey

Babs-as-Oracle at her best.

Batman: The Dark Mirror

Babs' long lost brother comes back to town. It's fucked up.

I've been reliably told to stay away from her Batgirl runs - most people who are a fan of the character don't like that they retconned Oracle away and it's mostly not very well written. There's a comic called batgirls that lasted about a year that included her, and it's okay.

Jason Todd (my beloved)

MY MAN

Batman: Second Chances

Collected edition of Jason as Robin, so much fun. Extremely silly at times since it's the 80s.

Batman: A Death in the Family

For obvious reasons.

Then he's just sort of dead for 17 years. He shows up in heaven in a Green Arrow issue and is occasionally brought up or shown as a hallucination, but that's about it.

Batman: Under the Red Hood

There's a new crime lord in town and he's so smart and talented and hot omg I wonder who he is!!!!

The collected edition also comes with the annual that reveals how he came back to life

Task Force Z

This shouldn't be as good as it is.

Jason gets recruited to work with a team of undead villains

Jason gets called a hot a bunch of times, and is shirtless a lot. This doesn't matter but you know, like, yeah it does.

For Robin!Jason there's also Batman: The Cult - which I finally got my hands on recently but haven't read yet. For Red Hood!Jason there's lots of stuff, but most of it isn't very good or is actively bad. Most people will tell you to stay away from Red Hood and the Outlaws, and they're right, although the 2016 run is better. Most people will tell you to read Batman & Red Hood: Cheer, and they're wrong, it's ass.

Tim Drake

Frankly this boy has no flops. Or very close to it.

Batman: A Lonely Place of Dying

Tim figured out who Batman and Robin are at AGE NINE. Respect.

After this he appears in various Batman and detective comics issues, I haven't read any of these.

Robin

The first Robin to get his own ongoing! Like with Nightwing, it started with a miniseries (a few of them, actually) and got turned into a long running series from there. Lasted like 200 issues, too.

Tim FUCKS.

Not Steph's first appearance, but most of her appearances pre-2009 are in this series.

Young Justice 1998

It's insane in all the best ways. Cars have sex on panel. They play baseball to save the world on an alien planet. A power of friendship speech prevents the end of the world. In the first issue, a woman develops breasts so big she falls on her face.

This team eventually breaks apart and Tim along with 3 other teen heroes nicknamed the core four (Superboy, Impulse, & Wonder Girl II) become part of Teen Titans 2003, which I haven't read and is also a bit of a flop era fashion wise for everyone anyway. I do have the volume of TT03 where they meet the versions of themselves from the future and I plan on reading that soon-ish.

In the mid 2000s basically everyone Tim loves dies. Steph died in 2004 ish after a very short stint as Robin. Tim's mom dies, then his dad is murdered, and it's unclear what happened to his step mom, but she was in Bludhaven, which had an atomic bomb dropped on it. Impulse becomes kid flash becomes the flash becomes murdered, and superboy gets killed while saving the world. Steph does turn out to not be dead after all and Impulse and Superboy come back from the dead eventually but by God he's having a tough year BEFORE Bruce "dies".

Red Robin 2009

After Bruce "dies" and Dick becomes Batman, Dick makes Damian his Robin and nobody believes Tim that Bruce is still alive, so he steals the Red Robin costume and goes on a mission to save his dad!

Not a comic to read first because it's so uncharacteristic of Tim as a person, but definitely something to read as soon as possible, because it's ridiculously good.

After flashpoint/n52 Tim doesn't have his own ongoing for a while, but he does come out as bisexual in an early issue of Batman Urban Legends (2021) and he got his own ongoing called Tim Drake: Robin in 2022 which was ugly AF and yet cancelled far too soon. There's a Young Justice run from 2019 I haven't read yet.

Stephanie Brown

For her I would go to Google, bc I haven't gone down the rabbithole enough for her yet. I know her first appearance was in a batman comic where she became spoiler to spoil her dad's plans - her dad being a third rate villain called the cluemaster - and she almost kills him, so good for her. Afterwards she appears every once in a while in various comics, most notably in Robin, where she and Tim as Robin start dating despite him knowing her identity but not the other way around.

Robin 60s (I don't remember the exact issues)

Steph gives birth and gives her baby up for adoption

Robin 126-128

Steph becomes Robin when Tim quits for his still-alive-but-not-for-long dad.

War Games

Steph does a fucky wucky and accidentally starts a gang war which gets her killed

There's another Robin arc where she comes back and it turns out she was never dead, Leslie (the family doctor) simply faked her death and sent her to Africa to recover

Batgirl 2009

Her first and only solo ongoing, but it's really good

She also appears a lot in Cass's Batgirl ongoings, and occasionally shows up in yj98. Her most recent series in Batgirls, which isn't very good but her interactions with Cass are very gay, and we've all been shipping it for 20 years at this point, so frankly it's long overdue. Unlikely to become canon tho, unfortunately.

Cassandra Cain

She doesn't use a lot of words, so neither will I. Probably.

No Man's Land

Frankly I am terrified to read this, it's so many goddamn issues, but this is her first appearance. I have one "volume" and it's as big as the fucking Bible.

Batgirl 2000

She's the first Batgirl to get an ongoing. The one from 2008 I've been reliably told isn't very good. She's absolutely terrifying in the 2000 one, I approve.

Outsiders 2016

Supposed to also be good for Duke content. I think at this point she's going by Orphan? Idk she's had a lot of names.

Idk I prefer Black Bat

Spirit World

Mini series that recently ended. Soooooo good. Alyssa Wong is a top contender for favorite modern writer.

She's mostly a background character. Bc DC is both sexist AND racist. She was also in batgirls.

Damian Wayne

Frankly he's my least favorite of the batkids, but that's not his fault, he's been a victim of a lot of really racist writing.

Batman: Son of the Demon

Somehow both his origin AND an elseworlds that doesn't count. Not required reading, but Bruce and Talia are madly in love in this.

Batman by Grant Morrison

After UTRH and before Dick was forced to become Batman Morrison reintroduced Talia's son, who in this version was a rape baby bc apparently brutalia weren't in love and Talia drugged Bruce. Fucking fine, I guess.

His character growth during his time as robin is sweet tho.

Robin 2021

His only solo ongoing, pretty good

Super Sons

He had two team up comics with then fellow child Jon Kent, son of superman, and it was fucking adorable. Then they aged up Jon to 17, so they're still friends, but Jon has his own shit going on.

Duke Thomas

He's REALLY new, and I haven't read any of it, I'm sorry.

Robin War

Batman and the Signal - I finally got my hands on the first issue of this last week!

The Outsiders 2016

Frankly they should capitalize on the Duke & Cass friendship/siblingship more often.

Alfred Pennyworth

I haven't read it, but there's a series called Pennyworth about his days as a spy for the crown. Supposed to be pretty good.

Kate Kane

The Jewish lesbian batwoman of our dreams

Batwoman: Elegy

Her introduction

Also, it's written by Greg Rucka, and if he can do one thing, it's write sapphic women. I'm not even joking.

Get the newer edition that has both of her original Rucka stories

Batwoman ongoings

She's had a couple, they're both supposed to be pretty solid, I've only read a few issues here and there

Batman in other media

Animated: I'm currently watching Batman the Animated Series for the first time and it seems to really get Bruce as a character, even if Robin will be there one episode and his existence will be a plot hole in the next. The Justice League animated series has also been fun so far. Teen Titans have gotten a number of animated adaptations all of which have pretty strong followings. There's an animated show called "Young Justice" which is a Teen Titans show and I refuse to watch it (it has a very devout following, but all that means is that the Young Justice - All Media Types tag on ao3 is just the same as Young Justice Cartoon and I have to filter heavily when looking for yj98 fics). Lego Batman is a REALLY fun film, and I think it turned into a whole franchise.

Live action TV: I have watched the first season of both Titans and Gotham, but both of those were before I was into the batfamily as a concept. My impression of Titans is overall negative and my impression of Gotham is overall positive.

Live action movies: There are so many Goddamn Batman movies. I like the Dark Knight Trilogy, but even calling it "based on" the Dark Knight comic trilogy is giving it a lil more credit than it deserves. The Batman 2022 is massively popular with the comic fandom for a reason - I'm not a big fan of it, but I did enjoy laughing at the movie so at least there's that. Batfleck sucks. I haven't seen anything else, up to and including the Joker movie. Oh, and Birds of Prey was really good, but that's not Cass.

Video games: The Arkham trilogy is well loved and I have indeed just bought it, but I haven't gotten to it because I'm currently working on Gotham Knights and uh. Okay so listen. This game is a lot of fun and I will be finishing it. But it's like. Got a massively antisemitic plot point. I can't even say I don't recommend it, I'm genuinely enjoying the game a lot. But I've never seen anybody bring this up, and it's bugging me.

ANYWAY I'm sure I've missed a LOT but this is introductory so you know I'm giving myself grace. There's characters I completely skipped and I'm sure mega fans of characters I haven't read much of will be offended that I said such and such about them but you know it's only been about a year and a half since I started reading dc comics and I'm still figuring it all out. And I probably will still be figuring it out for the next decade. To me that's actually part of the fun of it.

[inevitably-johnlocked]

hello hello! I was wondering if you had any winged aus tucked away? the latest post I could find (though goodness knows tumblr’s search feature is iffy) was from 2019 and I was curious about an updated list if it isn’t too much trouble!

Hey Lovely!

You are correct, it's been a LONG time since I've put a new list together... I don't have any new personal recs (been a LONG time since I've read them), so what I'm going to do is do a tag search on my MFL list and put together a nice fresh list of fics suggested to me by you guys! Please note that I have NOT read any of the fics on this list so I'm probably wrong somewhere, LOL. They're not ALL winglock, for sure, but if anyone has anything relevant that they can add to this list, please do! Enjoy!

WINGLOCK / ANGELS / DEMONS Pt. 2 (MFLs)

See also:

Winglock / Angels / Demons (Updated Apr 2022)

Sherlock x  Good Omens Crossovers (Updated Apr 2022)

The Detective and the Demon by oreganotea (G, 2,389 w., 1 Ch. || Supernatural Elements || Pre-Slash, Urban Fantasy, Demons, Humour, Friendship) – “Every demon on record is described as either monstrously terrifying or breathtakingly beautiful,” Sherlock says. “I have never heard of a demon with a forgettable face and a propensity for ugly jumpers.” The demon looks down at his jumper. Okay, so it might not be the most flattering article of clothing in the world, but it sure looks a hell of a lot more comfortable than Sherlock’s two-sizes-too-small shirt.

The Babadook by CatieBrie (T, 6,886 w., 1 Ch. || Babadook Fusion || Post-TRF, Horror, Demonic Possession, Violence, Halloween, Grief, Angst with Happy Ending) – “A children’s book,” John mutters as he flips it open. The pages are scrawled with beautiful charcoal lines and thick black ink. The cover, bright red, edges the open pages and something tugs at the back of John’s brain. It’s a familiar feeling, black and tarrish and thick in his thoughts. He shakes it off and picks the book up off his bed, turning so that he can sit on the edge and spread the book out across his knees. If it’s in a word or it’s in a look, you can’t get rid of the Babadook. He turns the page, ignoring the pressure building beneath his chest. There’s a closet on one page; paper doors meant to be opened by the reader flutter as John reads the text on the other page.

In The Arms Of The Angel by Watermelonsmellinfellon (M, 8,585 w., 3 Ch. || Fallen Angel AU || Friendship, Angels/Wings, BAMF John, Trust, Fluff, Romance, Eventual Happy Ending) – The human population possesses the ability to grow feathers from their spines, but less than even five million at a time ever actually grow any. A feather for a life. Every life saved, earned a feather. The feathers would overlap each other, until there was finally enough to create a wing and if some were lucky, two wings.

The Soldier And The Demon by LipstickDaddy (G, 8,998 w., 6 Ch. || Victorian / Demon AU || Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Soldier John, Demon Sherlock, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Protective John, Protective Sherlock, Happy Ending) – Johnlock/Kuroshitsuji AU - 1879. Captain John H Watson of the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers is dying from a near-fatal gunshot wound in the Kandahar desert; until a demon saves his life. There’s a catch, though; one day, his saviour will eat his soul.

You Don't Need Wings to Fly by Laiquilasse (T, 11,326 w., 11 Ch. || Wonderful Life AU || Bullying, Angels, Suicidal Ideation, Christmas) – John, an angel, is sent from Heaven to help a desperate Sherlock Holmes by showing him what life would have been like if he had never existed.

Tattered by SrebrnaFH (M, 15,857 w., 6 Ch. || Winglock || Family, Childhood, Society, Abuse, Electricity, Hurt John / Sherlock, Protective John, No Smut, Bullying, Sudden Relationship Change) – John visits Baker Street without any warning and gets an eyeful.

On Feathers and Bacon Sandwiches by Kryptaria(T, 21,092 w., 8 Ch. || Winglock AU || Demon John, Asexual Sherlock) – No one has ever stayed with Sherlock longer than a month. At least, no human. Fortunately, John Watson isn't about to let the little things - like biohazardous experiments and the constant threat of danger - get in the way of his friendship with a very special, very brilliant man like Sherlock Holmes. Part 1 of Feathers 'verse

The 13th Book by meet_me_in_samarra (T, 24,491 w., 13 Ch. || Magical Realism Winglock AU || Enemies to Friends, Friendship, Witty Banter, Interspecies Bromance, Demon Sherlock) – Summoning a demon was actually quite simple if you could avoid getting killed in the process. Therefore, only the powerful, the desperate or the stupid would attempt it. John Watson was likely the first, definitely the second but hopefully not one of the third kind.

This Is Family by SaraStarchild (T, 39,840 w., 16 Ch. || Hereditary AU || Psychological Horror, Body Horror, Demonic Possession, POV Third Person Limited, Protective Mycroft, Cults, Mycroft Whump, Sherlock Whump, Major Character Death, Graphic Violence, Retelling) – When the Holmes family's secretive mother and matriarch, Ellen Holmes, passes away, the family she leaves behind – father Martin, sons Mycroft and Sherlock, and daughter Eurus – begins to unravel cryptic and increasingly terrifying secrets about their ancestry. The more they discover, the more they find themselves trying to outrun the sinister fate they seem to have inherited. This is, pretty much, a word-for-word retelling of the 2018 Ari Aster film, Hereditary. Part 1 of Sherlock Halloween Stories

Though the brightest fell by BeMyGoldfish (M, 41,243 w., 7 Ch. || Celestial AU || Post THoB, Soulmates, Guardian Angels, Demons, Mystrade, Background Johnlock) –  In his office, Mycroft (the Archangel) tries to recruit Greg (the ‘ex-angel’ mortal) on a celestial mission to save Sherlock from what he wants most. "This is some elaborate joke cooked up by your brother as revenge for me not asking him to help on the Islington Exsanguinations, isn't it? How did he get you in on it, Mycroft? Did he hide your trouser press? Or threaten to expose your secret ciggie habit to your mum? This isn't funny. It's weird and obscure, but it is not funny.”

Trapped by Gem_Gem & harrylee94 (M, 41,311 w., 3 Ch. || Demon John AU || Demon John, Mild Gore, POV Sherlock, Mild Homophobic Language, Kiss, Bonding) – During his most recent case, Sherlock finds himself in the hands of the very people he had been trying to pursue. This mistake lands him in a cell, already occupied by a strange man who calls himself John. But who is John? And why does he look so... hungry? Part 3 of the Bonded by Words Stories series

Murderous Imprint by MojoFlower (E, 52,634 w., 24 Ch. || Winglock || Organ Theft, Imprinting, First Kiss / Time, Whump, Torture, Blow Jobs, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Case Fic, Magical Realism) – Sherlock should be focusing on the series of brutal vivisections Lestrade has brought to him. Instead he's distracted by a most amazing and unexpected experimental opportunity from the basement apartment of 221C. Will he figure out the one in time to stop the other? And does he need help in order to do it? Part 1 of the Hatch series

Not English But Angels by orphan_account (E, 203,251 w., 15 Ch. || Twisted Canon, Slow Burn, First Kiss/Time, Minor Character Death) – A sort-of canon, sort-of AU fic in which I twist and supplement canon to weave it into a new story in which Sherlock and John come from different worlds and nothing is quite what it seems.

WORKS IN PROGRESS

The Posthumous Game by S_IRIS (E, 58,695+ w., 12/19 Ch. || WiP || Supernatural Elements AU || S4 Fix It, Crack, Humour, Fluff, Demonic Possession, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss/Time, Sherlock Whump, Hurt Comfort, Hallucinations) – A Season 4 fix-it fic where Jim Moriarty really is dead but comes back as a demon to haunt Sherlock. The only problem is Jim is a total newbie at demonic possession so he tries to make-do and ends up making Johnlock happen. Only, it doesn’t happen the way you’d think.

Hellfire by HarleysCompass (E, 66,660+ w., 19/? Ch. || WiP || Fallen Angel AU || Biblical References, BAMF John, Sexual Content, Fallen Angel John) – In 1880 Dr. John H. Watson dies on foreign soil. The next thing he knows he's wandering the planes of Heaven. After betraying God, John is cast out, employed by the devil, and protecting a sociopath of a human with a penchant for trouble and pissing off Angels. 

[scoobydoodean]

In my experience it's been bc deancrit cas/destiel girls can easily ignore most samgirls (at least hardcore ones) because they usually either ship wincest or don't really give a fuck about cas so they're in an entirely different "fandom circle". Whereas deangirls tend to have more crossover because the main ship in our circle is still destiel (while I'm personally kinda meh about romantic ships but I definitely see the appeal), so unfortunately they feel the need to get mad at deangirls they disagree w bc we "affect their fandom experience more".

I agree there's the wincest/samgirl/deangirl sphere and a destiel/casgirl/deangirl sphere and our posts generally circulate within those separate spheres among a completely separate audience. If I was hanging out with bibros, I'd get a lot more complaints from samgirls than I do in the destiel sphere (and many people in this "sphere" are meaner about Sam than I am tbqh).

In addition to that, samgirls and deangirls have been fighting since day one, so while we don't tend to view the show the same way and don't tend to get along, there's a pretty well-established 'Dead dove do not eat" situation between us. Of course squabbles still happen, but I think I tend to write meta in a way that makes our complete lack of interpretive common ground immediately apparent when samgirls do stumble across me. When you realize you can't agree with someone on the interpretation of dozens of basic facts, you often deflate before ever trying to start an argument.

On the other hand, I'm expected to display a certain amount of "loyalty" toward Cas. I actually do recognize this and I do actually respond to it to a certain degree (at the very least for the sake of a few casgirl mutuals). At the same time, I firmly believe that the expectations of deangirls and casgirls in the destiel sphere are not symmetric. In fact, most of the negative experiences I've had were a result of me disagreeing with popular deancrit takes rather than speaking critically of Cas. This is because among destiel shippers, there's an unspoken agreement to blog about Cas and Dean in a certain way, and it isn't all about hiding criticism—it's also about agreeing to accept certain criticisms that I... don't agree with. Me not agreeing with those criticisms is seen as "stirring up drama" by some destiel shippers. The thing is, I think most of the people who think of me that way are basing their expectations of my behavior on the constraints that they face themselves. How we behave on our own blogs is largely informed by who is mutuals with who (i.e., people don't want to upset their mutuals). Destiel shippers who follow hundreds of other blogs have a very collectivist mindset and tend to assume all destiel shippers follow the exact same mix of people that they do, when that is not the case. I follow maybe two dozen supernatural blogs.

I understand that some destiel shippers/casgirls don't want to see my opinions on their dashes, but I have a right to my opinions and I am literally not sharing a community the people who complain the most about me. I'm not going to obscure or change my opinions to make strangers I don't follow and whose posts I am in most cases not even cognizant of happy. Some casgirls avoid me or block me and move on with their lives and that works just fine for me, but others seem to have trouble accepting that I am over here blogging about things they don't agree with and get angry that they can't control what I post. At the end of the day, seeing my posts is a choice that a person has to actively make. I don't use generic fandom tags. I don't even tag my gifsets. I don't skulk around on the blogs of people I don't know looking for things to bitch about, and I never interact negatively on other people's posts. If a beloved mutual is putting my posts on someone's dash and they don't want to see my opinions, they can filter my url. It's literally that simple.

[lucky-clover-gazette]

kings rising highlights & annotations

chapter 1

indented text is from the book. some quotes have commentary, some do not. some comments are serious, and some are definitely not. most of them will only make sense to people who have read the series. and, like, there are spoilers. so please read the books first if you're interested!

also: part of the reason i'm doing such a close reading is to study cs pacat's style, especially in terms of how she does romance and erotica. there are "craft notes" that might seem weird, like i'm being redundant or restating something rather than analyzing, but those are more things that i want to remember/take away from the writing!

i'm going to tag these longer posts with "sam reads capri" in case anyone wants to read them all at once.

this is a google doc i wrote with overall content warnings for the captive prince series. it's not perfect, but i do think it's important to include.

A hiss of a rock, thrown. Nikandros came up off his knees, drawing his sword. Damen flung out a hand in a motion for halt, stopping Nikandros instantly, his sword showing a half-foot of Akielon steel.

nik. it's a rock. chill the fuck out.

Damianos, prince-killer. His mind, used to battlefield decisions, took in the sweep of the courtyard, and made the commander’s choice: to minimise losses, to limit bloodshed and chaos, and to secure Ravenel. The Veretian guards were beyond his orders, and the Veretian people . . . if these bitter, furious emotions could be soothed among the Veretian people, he was not the one to soothe them. There was only one way to stop what was about to happen, and that was to contain it; to lock it down, to secure this place once and for all. Damen said to Nikandros, ‘Take the fort.’

i like how the book starts immediately with a very clear example of how the status quo has irreversibly changed. damen has no choice but to act as akielion (akielon? whatever) prince/commander, because that’s how everyone sees him now. even if he hasn’t changed at all from how he’d been five minutes ago

Guymar purposefully spat, and for his trouble was backhanded hard across the face with a mailed fist by the Akielon soldier. Damen let it happen, aware of what would have happened if a man had spat on the ground in front of his father.

i think what i said at the end of book 2 holds true here - damen spent prince’s gambit in the romance genre with interruptions from the war/politics genres, but with laurent’s (presumed accidental) outing of him as prince he’s now forced to live in the same world that laurent’s been in for the past two books. like “yep gotta let my former friend and ally get slapped because politics. man if only laurent had known that i was the prince, we could have avoided this :/“

‘We don’t stand together,’ said Guymar. ‘You betrayed our Prince.’ And then, as though he almost couldn’t bear to say it, ‘You had him—’

in all senses of the phrase, laurent very much had damen

Damen said, ‘I made him a promise.’ ‘And when he learns who you are?’ said Jord. ‘When he learns that he is facing Damianos on the field?’ ‘Then he and I meet each other for the first time,’ said Damen. ‘That was also a promise.’

damen reclaiming his princely authority while being so profoundly wrong… embarrassing

He had a sense of holding on, as though if he just held the fort, held these men together long enough to reach Charcy, then what followed— He couldn’t think about what followed, all he could do was keep to his promise.

he is so devoted to laurent that he doesn’t even stop to think that he’s been screwed over. me too damen, as a first-time reader. and even now, on a second read, i'm not sure how much i trust laurent. i've forgotten the intricacies of his plan and i didn't do a close-reading the first time around, so there are certain things i just can't say for sure at this point.

anyway, i actually think d&l have a ton in common in terms of how they express and demonstrate devotion. they both have bleeding hearts, it’s just that laurent’s has had a much longer time to harden. the way he assesses and handles situations is with a detachment he believes is necessary, so he doesn’t lose control, while damen throws himself wholeheartedly into everything he cares about. they have the same fierceness and passion, and while working together they help to balance out their approaches while applying that passion. starting the book out like this, with damen's devotion on full display and laurent's being majorly questioned, is very smart. because they both need to evolve from this point, in order to be good kings and good partners to each other.

like honestly, they both just need to sit the fuck down and tell the truth and accept that they both care about each other and they don’t have to be avoidant freaks about it. not that either of them (mostly laurent, but also damen in a different way) actually wants to do that. and that’s what the first like 1/3 of the book is about, as i recall: their petty divorce drama until they both give in and decide to figure out their shit.

The ghost of his father seemed to prickle over his skin. It was his father’s title, but his father no longer sat on the throne at Ios. Looking at the bowed head of his friend, Damen realised it for the first time. He was no longer the young prince who had roamed the palace halls with Nikandros after a day spent wrestling together on the sawdust. There was no Prince Damianos. The self that he had been striving to return to was gone.

“with real power comes real responsibility, and i don’t want any of that shit” - dennis reynolds, it’s always sunny in philadelphia

Damen took in Nikandros’s familiar, classically Akielon features, his dark hair and brows, his olive face and straight Akielon nose. As children, they had run barefoot together through the palace. When he’d imagined a return to Akielos, he’d imagined greeting Nikandros, embracing him, heedless of the armour, like digging in his fingers and feeling in his fist the earth of his home.

so they've definitely fucked right

Damen thought of the soldiers bursting into his rooms, of being lashed down in the slave baths, of the dark, muffled journey by ship to Vere. He thought of being confined, his face painted, his body drugged and displayed. He thought of opening his eyes in the Veretian palace, and what had happened to him there. ‘You were right about Kastor,’ Damen said. It was all he said.

nice vs. good theme breakthrough!

He heard of his own body, wrapped and taken in the processional through the acropolis, then interred beside his father.

okay so which dead palace employee/slave got to posthumously cosplay as damen’s corpse

He heard Kastor’s claim that he had been killed by his own guard.

copying the regent's homework

To the Kyros of Delpha, Nikandros, from Laurent, Prince of Vere.

"hey girl,"

The letter was old. The writing was old. Laurent must have sent the letter from Arles.

see my previous breakdown from book 2 chapter 21 about how laurent literally failsafed losing the only living person who loves him with this gambit

It made tactical sense, in a horrifying way, for Laurent to have made an alliance with Nikandros. Laurent had always been capable of a kind of ruthless pragmatism. He was able to put emotion aside and do what he had to do to win, with a perfect and nauseating ability to ignore all human feeling.

i mean i think there was feeling there. making the alliance also was a way for laurent to dispose of damen, returning him to his people so the regent couldn’t use him to torture laurent. because at that point i’m not sure if laurent wanted damen dead, but he definitely wanted him gone. and he’d assumed that damen would want that too

In return for aid from Nikandros, the letter said, Laurent would offer proof that Kastor had colluded with the Regent to kill King Theomedes of Akielos.

okay yeah THAT’S GOOD. and it explains how laurent gets himself in his situation in the next chapter, he’s following up on the promise by trying to get the info from govart/guion

The straightforward ease of it left him without words. He had forgotten what home felt like. He had forgotten trust, loyalty, kinship. Friends.

i’m glad nikandros is a real one. but damen please don’t regress so much that you forget straightforwardness and ease =/= truth and loyalty. oh fuck he can’t hear me

‘Your friend [Nikandros, talking about himself] is a fool and courts treason for a keepsake.’

yeah it makes sense that these two are besties

To gain everything and lose everything in the space of a moment. That is the fate of all princes destined for the throne.

this or a kingdom. guess he’ll kingdom

‘Kastor made me a slave. Laurent freed me. He gave me command of his fort and his troops, an act of trust for an Akielon he had no reason to elevate. He doesn’t know who I am.’

oh honey

‘The Prince of Vere freed you,’ said Nikandros. ‘You have been his slave?’ His voice thickened with the words. ‘You have served the Prince of Vere as a slave?’

this isn’t an hr complaint quite yet but it is a “nikandros takes out his phone and bitches on his private twitter moment” moment. which i think should be a tally as well. nikandros private twitter venting moment #1

He knew what they saw—a hundred images of slaves, submitting, bending at the hip, parting their thighs, the casual ease with which these men would have taken slaves in their own households.

back in book 1, when assessing the state of erasmus in torveld’s possession, i recall that damen assumes that veretians think that “there is no honour in submission.” implying that to damen in book 1, and akielons in general, there IS honor in a slave’s submission. but here, when their prince—a person they respect—is revealed to have been made a slave, they definitely don’t perceive it as an honor. so which one is it? whatever submission damen shows/showed laurent is voluntary and honorable by his own moral code. he hasn’t been groomed or brainwashed into submitting his own free will. get on his level or keep your judgment to yourselves, hypocrites

‘Does it shock you? I was a personal gift to the Prince of Vere.’ He had bared his whole forearm. Nikandros turned to Makedon, his voice harsh. ‘You will not speak of this. You will never speak of this outside this room—’ Damen said, ‘No. It can’t be hidden.’ He said it to Makedon.

i think damen can at least subconsciously see the hypocrisy here. and he’s indignant about it >:)

‘You were the Prince’s slave?’ Revulsion was stamped on Makedon’s face, whitening it. ‘Yes.’

'and tbh i’d drop the past tense i had the blacksmith keep this thing on me'

‘You—’ Makedon’s words echoed the unspoken question in Nikandros’s eyes that no man would ever say aloud to his King. Damen’s flush changed in quality. ‘You dare ask that.’ Makedon said, thickly, ‘You are our King. This is an insult to Akielos that cannot be borne.’

and now damen’s piiiiiisssssssed. i think partially because he knows it was the best night of his life and doesn’t want to be shamed for it, lol

‘You will bear it,’ said Damen, holding Makedon’s gaze, ‘as I have borne it. Or do you think yourself above your King?’ Slave, said the resistance in Makedon’s eyes. Makedon certainly had slaves in his own household, and made use of them. What he imagined between Prince and slave stripped it of all the subtleties of surrender. Having been done to his King, it had in some sense been done to him, and his pride revolted at it.

okay yeah damen’s totally ending the institution of slavery once he's king and the gradual development of changing his mind has been both demonstrated effectively and completely earned throughout the past two books. i think this is why some of the cruelest things in book 1 happen to damen in the first place—they had very little to do with the development of his relationship with laurent, and everything to do with this personal arc for damen’s character. moments like this are the payoff to all of that subtle and consistent work. damen’s wake-up call of being treated like a slave and realizing it’s not what he thought, now transferring to his fellow slave-owners like a moral salve (not a typo for slave. like medicine).

The plan he had developed with Laurent was simple,

ARE YOU SURE

Damen’s men were the bait.

damen sees those red flags and just keeps pushing forward

It struck its front hoof on the cobbles, as though seeking to overturn a stone, arching its neck, perhaps sensing, in the manner of all great beasts, that they were on the cusp of war.

do you think damen and laurent’s horses miss each other

But Jord and Huet. Lazar. Scanning their faces, Damen saw who they were. These were the men of the Prince’s Guard, with whom Damen had travelled for months. And there was only one reason why they had been released from confinement. Damen held up a hand, and Jord was allowed through, so that for a moment their horses circled each other. ‘We’ve come to ride with you,’ said Jord. Damen looked at the small clump of blue now gathered before the rows of red in the courtyard. There weren’t many of them, only twenty, and he saw at once that it was Jord who had convinced them, so that they were here, mounted and ready. ‘Then we ride,’ said Damen. ‘For Akielos, and for Vere.’

<3

The uncertain terrain was a valley of doubt, fringed by trees and dangerous slopes.

“the uncertain terrain was a valley of doubt” great line

Damen would never bring men into this kind of disadvantage without a counter plan.

SSFGHYSUDGFYSUDF

If he just did that, just kept to his promise, then after—

now damen’s the one being controlled by his emotions and desperation. oops!

‘If we do that, and your Veretian doesn’t arrive, we’ll all be killed.’ ‘He’ll be here,’ said Damen.

cringe

Laurent had never planned to come. That was what the scout was screaming, right before an arrow took him in the back. ‘This is your Veretian Prince exposed for what he is,’ said Makedon.

so i know that having akielos show up was laurent’s plan, but i forget if laurent had EVER intended to show up at charcy, or if the plan was always to screw damen over. like laurent tells damen that was the plan, after the fact, or at least doesn’t apologize. because he's a petty bitch and mad at damen for lying and doesn't want to talk about the fact that he got tortured. but i still think that laurent could have intended to be there, just with the twist of damen being exposed, if he hadn’t been held up and injured. after all, the akielos allyship plan has been a thing since vere, but the charcy plan was in response to something laurent 100% did not see coming. laurent couldn't have ended the snowball effect of his own gambit by the time he realized he liked and trusted damen, but he could only have planned charcy after they bonded for almost an entire book. they're two different plans, by two slightly different laurents. not that damen can really see that right now.

i don’t know, i always tend to give laurent more grace than he probably deserves. i WANT him to do better than he sometimes does, because he is a character i'm rooting for, and i know that he cares about being honorable in his own messy imperfect way. (me 🤝 damen).

but even if we're just looking at it without any kind of emotional attachment, it simply isn't characteristic of laurent to leave so many of his own people to die, if he can avoid it. so it would make sense for him to at least try to keep his promise of showing up. but then again, when he’s overwhelmed by emotions he does make uncharacteristically stupid choices. and he is pissed at damen, kind of, although i do think he feels much more endeared to him now than he’d been when he sent nikandros the letter from arles. so he must have meant to be there. but then AGAIN, maybe laurent still somehow assumes that damen was just using him as a fuck, especially since damen didn’t tell the truth even when they started having sex. because laurent is an idiot about feelings, and he doesn’t want to see that damen cares, so he convinces himself that damen deserves to be abandoned on the battlefield.

i don't knowwwwww, my heart says one thing and my literary analysis brain tentatively agrees (laurent meant to be there but couldn't make it), but i hate getting things wrong and laurent is a slippery bitch. and again, this is on a SECOND READ. i just don't remember, for sure, if laurent meant to be at charcy. i don't know if it's even ever said, or just meant to be read between the lines. this may seem negligent or shallow, but listen, the first time i read this book was a binge-read. i read it in a night, right after reading a good chunk of prince's gambit in the afternoon. i was paying a lot less attention to the war/plan stuff and just focusing on the dysfunctional gay people. what i didn't realize, in my haste, is that the war/plan stuff adds an entire new dimension to the gay people's dysfunction. which is why i firmly believe that this is a series that needs to be read twice, at least. these are not romance books, they're a fucking psychological experience. they're like an escape room for your brain that just happens to have horny gay people inside.

Damen had no time to think before the situation was on him.

laurent in book 2: “i can’t think”

There was a dark logic to it. Have your slave convince the Akielons to fight. Let your enemies do your fighting for you, the casualties taken by the people you despise, the Regent defeated or weakened, and the armies of Nikandros wiped out.

and if it was laurent of book 1 or early book 2, that would have made perfect sense. but he made the charcy plan at the end of book 2 come onnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn. it can't be as simple as "laurent fully meant to screw you over," even if he didn't manage to show up as a result of his own plans that nobody else knew about. laurent took two steps forward at the end of book 2, trusting damen enough to emotionally and physically be intimate with him AND making this charcy plan with him. i think it makes sense for him to have taken one step back, in not actually telling damen the full truth about the alliance or laurent's own sidequest that ends up getting him captured and injured, but i just don't think he took TWO entire steps back, by putting damen and his men in a deadly situation with zero intention to help. that's too simple for him, both in an in-universe sense and in a "this is how good storytelling (which pacat can at this point be reasonably trusted to do) works" sense. it has to be something in between, even if damen and laurent assume/claim otherwise.

Damen found himself alongside Jord. ‘If you want to live, ride east.’ White-faced, Jord took one look at his expression and said, ‘He’s not coming.’

jord stays losing

[yuseirra]

i need u to know I read your tags on my post about the OnK side stories and got blasted into a crater by my feelings 😭 I COMPLETELY AGREE....... idol is such an incredibly personal and revealing song, it rly does feel like Ai's whole arc compressed into a really densely packed mv....

Hello!! sorry for taking awhile! I wanted to reply to this fast, but I also wanted to attach an Ai to the reply because she deserves the love. I haven't used the search function on tumblr lately, but whenever I did for this series, I found many good analysis from you. I thought 'wow, they write so well!' So, it's an honor to hear you agree! ;v; Ah, I read tags on my posts all the time too and I LOVE the really sweet ones, so I'm glad what I've written's felt like a good piece of feedback for you. I felt like jotting down my thoughts after having read the side B story.

Yeah.. IDOL felt like a song that was "painfully revealing", it was very exposing of everything Ai went through, so blatantly without a single filter of protection, that's how I felt about the song at first. As I read the comics, I came to understood that's probably what Ai wanted to do all along. I understand why that character said that lies are a form of love, she tried so hard to pose as this invincible and perfect individual, not just to save her face and be loved, but for everyone around her. I believe that Ai must have thought being that way would be a way to compensate for others, meeting other's expectations and all, what they want from her as well so she tried again again and nobody ended up seeing her behind her mask because she ended up being too good at it. All of that seems to have resulted from the lack of love in her upbringing. She wasn't loved, so she wasn't sure what love was. I think the thing here isn't that she CAN'T love, but is unsure of the idea of love. She was quite loving all along, but she wasn't sure if she had was really love and she had a hard time expressing it. Keeping up a front was her idea of "loving" but that kept her from being understood and accepted as a person. So that's why she was so straightforward about everything in the song IDOL. She wanted to be understood and loved back and engage in a "truthful" manner.

People say Ai is a complex character and she is, but I don't think she's so hard to understand. Her mentality may seem a bit extreme for some, but I feel none of it is exaggerated or unrealistic. There could be a lot of people feeling this way, just in various degrees. Her story was short, but I think that's why it was still able to leave a lot of impact.. ;v; whenever I listen to IDOL, I feel Ai is a great character. She's always been striving to get what she wants, and she did in the end.. you can feel how much she tried despite all the troubles she had! She's in fact, not as perfect and a bit awkward at times, but she was always hardworking. So I like that in that song. It really shows a lot about her character :)

Thank you for the message, and for the translations again! Hope you have fun with the series, I'd love to see more good analysis from you because I agreed with a lot of the takes you had from your posts, I appreciate you insights!

[wrengrif]

It's Thought Time again

So I've been rolling over this in various posts and reblogs, and I'm finally going to pin down my thoughts and write them here. Some might call this my 'Aziraphale Defense Post', but that's not accurate.

This is my William James take - meaning, everyone's reality is different due to perspective. What is true to me is not going to be true to you, 100% of the time. However, there is a facet of truth in everything we do believe, because we wholeheartedly believe it. That gives us a rainbow of truths from one opinion, each in their own radiant color.

So here's what I believe to be true. 6000 years ago, Heaven and Hell, on two completely different missions, sent the angel and the demon they found the most annoying to Earth. Not the weakest, not the most problematic (not yet anyways), but the ones they all collectively rolled their eyes at. Crowley was too flash. Aziraphale was too soft.

So God plopped Aziraphale in Eden, told him to protect the humans and not let them eat the apple tree that was sitting right there in front of them. Didn't tell him to put up a fence, or wave the flaming sword at them.

Satan booted Crowley upwards and told him to vaguely, 'start some trouble'. Vaguest of orders, no real direction in them. Crowley could have just thrown rocks at Adam and Eve and it would have counted.

We all know what happened from there. However, instead of Heaven and Hell going, 'Okay we're going to really pin down these orders now, sending more troops, let's get humanity really going' ... they basically left Aziraphale and Crowley alone in the office for 6000 years. Oh, the head offices occasionally pop up. Threaten, in their own unique ways. Mostly though, Crowley and Aziraphale were the only immortal beings on a planet filled with human mayflies.

Human mayflies that nine times out of ten would just set fire to themselves, or show greater compassion than either one of them had ever known.

Crowley and Aziraphale were all alone, except for each other. Even among humans, who they clearly understood more than their superiors -- you had to know they both stuck out. Yeah, think on that. Crowley couldn't have been the only one outcast, with his red hair and his yellow eyes. Aziraphale has the most white-blonde, curly hair in existence. Tag along with blue eyes and fair skin and come on. So at the beginning, they only ever really had each other for safe company. As they moved towards Europe, it got easier to fit in but even then you know people were still giving them the side-eye.

They were both transitory - following where-ever a mission went. Probably a home for maybe ten or so years, but then they'd have to move on again. We talk a lot about how Crowley didn't have a physical home until the creation of the bookshop.

That means neither did Aziraphale.

So what happened? They became home to one another. A touchstone in the centuries that passed. Aziraphale never rejected being approached by Crowley, despite being a demon, and Crowley never held Heaven's stupid missions again Aziraphale, so they kept coming together. Over and over again. Think of Rome. Aziraphale is so happy to see Crowley, and it's only been a few decades. Crowley's mood improves the longer the conversation goes on, letting down his defenses, relaxing enough to smirk.

The Arrangement, thought of by Crowley, agreed to by Aziraphale, despite the dangers they both knew they would face, because at least it meant they could see each other without having to make an excuse or just 'happen to be in the area'. Now they could meet up at theatres or in graveyards. They had to be careful - they always, always had to be careful - or the other one could be hurt.

It is the worst thing that can happen to either one of them, if the other one is hurt, or worse, killed. Remember Aziraphale's face in the graveyard, that look of sheer horror when he realizes Hell has taken Crowley.

Remember Crowley yelling as he runs into a burning bookshop.

The bookshop and the Bentley are theirs, but they can lose those and still go on, as long as they have each other. Maybe it is co-dependent, but honestly who else can they depend on, if not each other? That's why I believe Aziraphale begged Crowley to come with him to Heaven, not because he wanted Crowley to be an angel, but because Crowley would be safe - Aziraphale's Home would be Safe. That's why he says, 'Nothing lasts forever'. No Thing.

Crowley is not a Thing, to Aziraphale. Crowley is Aziraphale's Person. His safe place, and he's Crowley's. They both know it. It's why Aziraphale never wants to run away because he knows he's not fighting for a place called home, he's fighting for Crowley. It's why Crowley walks away and always comes back - not because he's weak but because he knows that being with Aziraphale is what matters. It's what makes life worth living.

Which is what makes the Final Fifteen so heartbreaking because they are both saying the same thing, but they're on different wavelengths. Yet, Yet ... as time has passed and I've been able to look at the Final Fifteen with some space, I see that it's not as hopeless as it seems.

Because Crowley came back. Because Aziraphale looks ready to do what he has to do. I don't think it'll be violence, because they've never solved their problems with violence and I don't think they'll start now. I just know that They're Not Talking is not going to last as long as we think, and that anger and betrayal is not going to be the first thing on their minds when they finally see one another again.

Probably going to be that kiss, though.

This why I could never say I can't forgive Aziraphale for his actions, because he did what he had to do to keep his home, his Crowley safe. I know Crowley knows that, too. How is that all going to shape up - how they're going to find themselves in balance again?

Well. I guess we'll have to wait, and see.

[440mxs-wife]

The Country Doctor, Chapter 3: The "Ex" Factor

Pairing: Dr. Leonard “Bones” McCoy x F!Reader (eventual). Other Characters are the usual suspects: Jim Kirk, Nyota Uhura (mentioned). OMC's Travis Myers and Miles Cooper.

Word Count: 4812

Warnings: Divorce, break-up, ruthless businessmen, mention of destruction of property, an encounter with an ex that doesn't end well, Leonard being supportive and comforting, Jim being his usual, charming, mischievous self

Summary: Fresh off of his divorce, Dr. McCoy receives word that he has inherited a 5,000-acre farm and home in Logan, Montana. Finally, he has an opportunity for a clean slate and to start his own clinic out west and leave his ex-wife behind. Along the way, he'll meet a cast of unique characters, each with a place in his new small-town life. But there could be trouble ahead in the form of a powerful CEO hell-bent on acquiring Leonard's property by any means necessary.

A/N: This idea was posted by @hailbop1701, with a specific list of plot points/dialog to be included. I won't put the list here, because it'll give away too much. Not sure how many parts there'll be, but I hope you like where I take the story.

A/N 2: If you’ve been tagged here, it’s because you’ve interacted one or more times on a McCoy story of mine, or we’re moots. Whether you like or reblog, I am eternally grateful for your support. If anyone else would like to be tagged on any future Karl Urban character postings, or would rather leave the Crazy Train, please let me know. Thank you, and enjoy the show!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Previously: "And just what in the hell are you doing here?"

"Wow, it's good to see you too," Travis grinned smugly.

"I wish I could say the feeling was mutual, but we both know that'd be a lie," you retorted. "So, I ask you again--what. are. you. doing. here?"

"Since you asked soooo nicely, I'm here to speak to Dr. McCoy, is he in?" Travis sneered.

"Not unless you're here to see him as a patient, and I already know you're not. Therefore, you need to leave," you snapped. "Door's behind you. I suggest you use it."

"Such hostility!" Travis gasped, feigning shock. "If this is the way Dr. McCoy runs his clinic, I can't imagine you have too many--" he smirked but was interrupted.

"'Too many' what?" Leonard interrupted. "Is there some sort of problem here?" he inquired, eyes narrowed, with his arms folded across his chest.

"Oh! Good afternoon, Dr. McCoy. Uh, no, no problem at all. My name is Travis Myers, and I believe we've spoken on the phone a few times, if you remember?" With no response, he continued. "Ah. Right. Well, unfortunately, on my last visit to your lovely estate, I wasn't given an adequate opportunity to discuss a pending business matter. I am here on behalf of NorthStar Corp--" he started to explain but was once again cut off.

"I know who you're working for, and I'll bet they told you to do anything and everything to get me to sell," Leonard replied, arms still crossed. Despite the gravity of the situation, you nearly drooled at the way his shirt stretched over his torso and how nicely his biceps were contained within the fabric.

"As a matter of fact, they did. Anyway, I'm sure you'll find that the terms of our latest offer are more than generous. I've been given quite a bit of leeway to negotiate on their behalf and close this deal, but--" Travis started.

"Look, Trevor, I'll save you and NorthStar Corp a whole heap o' trouble. I ain't interested in money. If I was, I wouldn't be accepting fresh peach cobbler and homemade ice cream as payment for services rendered. So, you can just go on back to Mr. Big Shot and tell him I ain't movin' out of my Uncle Walter's home. The people here are warm and friendly, and I like bein' their doctor," he declared with an air of finality. Then he threw you a small wink, causing a flash of heat in your cheeks.

The intentional name slip-up and your reaction to McCoy's last gesture to you did not go unnoticed by Travis. Interesting, he thought. He knew of Leonard's divorce, and that it's at least partially what brought him to town. But how did you fit into the picture? Were the two of you more than work colleagues?

Leonard was fairly new in town, and Travis learned that you had moved here shortly after the break-up. For some reason, seeing you interacting with the good doctor, standing by him, stirred some feelings of jealousy. You used to do that for him, accompany him to business dinners, hang on his arm and make him look good. Now that attention was saved for someone else and he didn't like it.

Travis pushed these thoughts to the side for the moment to focus on the matter at hand. "Very well, Doctor. I'll be sure to relay your message to Mr. Cooper. However, I must warn you that he is highly motivated to close this deal. As my most persistent client, he is accustomed to getting what he wants. Every time, and without exception. Think about our offer, won't you? Good evening to you both," he remarked confidently before he exited the clinic.

***

He returned to his car and drove back to his motel room to reflect on his encounter with you and Dr. McCoy. He realized this was going to be more difficult than he originally thought. He was going to have to pull out all the stops if he wanted to close this deal. He was ready to do whatever was necessary to get McCoy to sign to protect his interests and those of his client.

Mr. Cooper didn't tolerate failure in any form, and after the way the conversation in the clinic went, he needed to fix this and fast. If he didn't, the firm he worked for was likely to fire him because they couldn't afford to lose such a big client. No way was he going to allow you to interfere with his success because of the animosity in your shared past. He was willing to protect his social and economic status at all costs.

In the cupholder beside him, his phone rang. The caller ID showed it was Bradley, so he gave the approval to patch through a call from Mr. Cooper. "Good evening, sir, I was just about to call you and--" Travis started but his client interrupted.

"Never mind that, Myers, what do you have for me?" Cooper demanded.

He mentioned his earlier discussion with Dr. McCoy and his run-in with you at the clinic. "I explained that our offer was more than generous and that you were committed to the deal. However, he won't budge, said he's happy being a 'country doctor'," he sneered. "I made it clear that you were highly motivated and would prevail in this situation, but I don't think it had any effect."

Cooper was silent on the other line, which was uncomfortable for Travis. He was used to hearing this client's blustering on the other end with his commands and domineering attitude. The longer the silence stretched on, the more nervous Travis became.

Finally Cooper heaved a deep sigh. "I'm quite disappointed, Myers. I thought you would've closed the deal by now, but I see my faith in you has been misplaced. I'm a busy man, and can't afford to wait any longer. You're fired."

"'Fired', sir??" Travis exclaimed. "Mr. Cooper, with all due respect, I think I've got something to convince McCoy to sign, if I can just talk to him again. If I could get a little more t–"

"No. You had your chance to close a no-brainer deal with a simple country doctor, and you blew it. I'm sure I can find someone else to manage my account and get this deal done." With that, Mr. Cooper hung up, leaving Travis to stare at his now-blank phone screen.

Not long after, he received a call from his boss, also firing him from the firm for failing to meet his objective. Devastated and at a loss for what to do next, he phoned his fiancée for some comforting words. However, she had already heard about him being fired and that he was likely blacklisted from ever working as a financial advisor again. For those reasons, she was moving out of their shared apartment and broke off their engagement.

I've lost everything, he thought. My client, my job, and my fiancée, gone. All because a backwoods doctor wouldn't sign a stupid piece of paper. I would've been financially set for life and married to the woman of my dreams.

And it was all your fault, because of your grudge against him that convinced Dr. McCoy not to sign the agreement. Something in Travis' mind snapped, and he refused to let you take it all away from him. You were going to pay for what you did to him. Starting tonight.

***

As soon as Travis walked out of the clinic, you let out a shaky breath you didn't realize you were holding. You braced your trembling hands on the edge of your desk, as you bowed your head and focused on the files still arranged in a neat pile on the surface. With deep, even breaths, you tried to get your heart rate back under control and keep your knees from giving out from under you.

Noticing your distress, Leonard took a couple of steps towards you, his arm outstretched to gently lay a hand on your shoulder. "You all right, darlin'?" he asked.

Slowly you raised your head and when your eyes met his, you noticed they were full of concern and kindness. "Yeah, I'm all right. Thank you, Len," you replied wearily with a small smile. "Just wasn't expecting to see him here of all places. Word to the wise, he will not be going away anytime soon."

"It doesn't matter how many times he shows up, or what kind of offers NorthStar Corp decides to make. I'll tell him the same thing the next time he shows up, too," he affirmed. "Or anybody else for that matter."

"You sure are stubborn, Leonard," you chuckled.

"I prefer the term 'resolute'. No, really, I meant what I said. I like this town, and no amount of money is going to make me leave it." Or you, he silently added. He tilted your head up to meet his gaze. "Now, I think it's about time we close up shop and call it a day, hmm?"

The warmth reflected in his hazel eyes nearly made your heart skip a beat. "Umm....yeah, I-I think that sounds like a good idea, yes," you stammered. You stopped shuffling papers for a moment to look up at your boss as your thoughts returned to an earlier subject. "Actually, if you're not busy, I was wondering if maybe you'd want to come over to my place tonight, and I'd cook dinner for you."

Leonard stood with one hand in his pockets, the other resting on his chin in thought, his eyes tilted upward as he considered your invitation. It had been a while since he'd spent time at a woman's house, let alone received an offer from her to cook a meal for him. Jocelyn was not well-versed in the culinary arts, leading to a lot of take-out meals or dining out. Just as he was about to accept your offer, you interrupted his thoughts.

"You know something? I just realized it's kind of silly for you to drive all the way into town. Because then you'd have to drive all the way back home after dinner. I-It's okay if you'd rather not tonight, Dr. McCoy," you added.

"Whoa there, darlin', never said I didn't want to," he replied. "But you're givin' me a case of whiplash by first invitin' me to dinner, then you change your mind," he grinned. "Why d'you wanna cook for me anyway?"

"Well, I like to cook for others, and it sorta relaxes me. We had a busy day with patients today, and I'm sure you must be exhausted. Especially after that meeting with Travis," you grimaced. "And on a Friday night, I'll bet the last thing on your mind is making a meal for yourself. So, why not let someone cook for you?" you shrugged as you continued to clear your desk. You knew you were rambling, but you didn't know how to stop it. That is, unless a large sinkhole opened directly underneath you and put you out of your misery. 

Leonard grabbed your hands to still your movements and waited to speak until your eyes were on his. "You worked hard today, too, you know. Exactly like you always do," he remarked. "And then with Travis showing up, that was just the icing on the cake, am I right?"

You nodded at his assessment of your annoyance with your ex, so he continued. "How about this? If it means that much to you, then you're welcome to pick through my pantry, refrigerator, whatever I've got. You can use my pots and pans, and anything you put on a plate, I promise I will eat it." As soon as the offer was made, he frantically hoped Jim had recently done at least some grocery shopping. The last thing he needed was for you to open the fridge door, only to find a lonely jar of pickles and a few cans of beer.

The playful grin on his face was too much to resist, and you felt the corners of your mouth twitching upwards to match it. "Deal," you replied with a grin. "Can't wait to see what I've got to work with." You grabbed your jacket from the back of your chair and draped it over your arm, along with your purse. Leonard ushered you out in front of him, then he closed up the clinic for the day by turning off the lights and locking the doors.

***

Fortunately, luck was with Leonard. Around an hour later, you and Leonard were putting the finishing touches on a dinner of Chicken Alfredo with a tossed salad and garlic bread. While you prepared the main dish, you put Leonard in charge of chopping the vegetables for the salad. The garlic bread was a "team effort", with the two of you working together on it as you traded stories.

Leonard dug into his portion of the main dish, and when a groan of approval escaped his lips, a smile stretched across your face. You were pleased that your favorite dish was met with such appreciation, which was lacking in your previous relationship.

In the beginning, Travis let you handle the meal preparation and grocery shopping for the two of you. He didn't really care what you made, and generally ate it without complaint or comment. However, towards the end of your relationship, he became much more critical of your efforts. His criticism diminished the joy you once found in cooking, and he was always getting take-out food, which replaced your home-cooked meals.

"Wow, it smells absolutely fantastic in here!" exclaimed Jim as he wandered into the kitchen. He passed by the table where you and Leonard had paused your meal to focus your attention on him. "Whatcha got cookin'?" he asked, then added, "good lookin'," with a smirk and a waggle of his eyebrows.

His lame attempt at flirtation caused you to roll your eyes and stab a forkful of your salad. Meanwhile, Jim quickly helped himself to a plate of the food you prepared and took the chair next to Leonard at the table. He twirled the pasta around his fork and stuffed it into his mouth. The noises and words of praise dripping from him after one bite were music to your ears.

When you had finished, you gathered up your plate, salad bowl, and utensils to take them to the sink. "I'm sorry there is no dessert for this evening, but I promise to make it up to you next time," you called over your shoulder.

"Oh, that's all right, darlin'," Leonard answered as he finished his own portion and pushed himself away a bit from the table.

"Yeah, and I can't wait until the next time," Jim interjected, while fending off the death glare from Leonard. Jim tried to play the innocent card, his hand to his chest and mouthing the word, "what?" to his friend. He'd heard Leonard speak fondly of you on many an occasion. And if what he saw before joining you was anything to go by, you returned the sentiment.

Leonard rose from the table and picked up some of the dirty dishes to take to the kitchen. He gently placed them next to the sink. Before going back to the table for more, he paused, leaned one hip against the counter, and crossed his arms over his chest. "Now, just what do you think you're doing?" he wondered.

"I'm cleaning up after myself, what does it look like I'm doing?" you answered while the sink filled with hot, soapy water. "My mama would be disappointed in me if I made a mess in the kitchen and didn't clean it up."

"Really? Because my mama'd tan my hide if she found out a guest was doing dishes in my house," Leonard chuckled.

"I'm not going to leave you with a sink full of dirty dishes, Leonard," you affirmed. "C'mon, I'll wash and you can dry. The sooner we get done, the quicker we can move on to the next activity, like maybe a movie?" you suggested, hopefully. "Besides, I'm not a guest anymore, since I've been here more than twice," you declared with an air of finality.

A wry smile crept across Leonard's face, then he shook his head, knowing he wouldn't be able to dissuade you in your logic. "All right, all right, fine. And a movie sounds like a great idea," he acknowledged, then went back out to grab more dishes.

When he arrived at the table, Jim caught his arm. "Hey, what's this I hear about a movie?" he inquired eagerly. At Leonard's near-murderous glare, he held up his hands in surrender and chuckled. "I'm kidding, Bones. I promise, I'll leave you two alone." He waggled his eyebrows again, then took off at a run as his laughter echoed off the walls all the way to his room.

Leonard shook his head in resignation then entered the kitchen with the final batch of dishes to be washed. "So, what kind of movie did you want to watch?" he asked. As you worked, the two of you discussed your favorite films and why you loved them.

Slasher films were a solid "no" from both of you, mystery/thrillers were okay, but you were split on rom-coms and musicals. Action/adventure movies were acceptable, though Leonard was not fond of the ones set in space. "Too much can go wrong up there," he warned. "And something always goes wrong. When it does, the heroes inevitably choose the most completely unrealistic solution, which ends up somehow saving the day."

His sardonic observation about space films made you throw your head back and laugh. "Oh, Leonard, you're too funny," you remarked. "I think space is a wondrous place, full of adventure and so much of it waiting to be discovered."

"Yeah, well, you'll never get me up there. I'm perfectly fine with my feet firmly planted on good ol' Planet Earth," he snorted.

***

After a bit of back-and-forth, the two of you finally settled on a movie. Leonard sat at one end of the couch, his long legs stretched out in front of him. For you, it was a toss-up on where to sit. If you took up the other end of the couch, you appeared distant. If you chose the middle cushion, well, wasn't that a little too close for two....what were you, anyway? Friends? Co-workers? More?

Leonard noticed your hesitation on the seating arrangement. "You gonna sit down, darlin'? Can't start the movie till ya get settled," he pointed out.

"I know, but where should I sit? Wouldn't want to mess up anyone's favorite seat," you explained nervously.

He really didn't want you as far away as the other end, but he also didn't want you to feel forced to sit next to him. "You can sit wherever you'd like," he replied, then laid his palm on the middle cushion. "Although no one really sits here, so you can break it in and we'll call it your seat if you want," he grinned.

That was smooth, you thought, your eyes widening a little in surprise. Okay, we can play it like that, if you want. You sauntered over to where his hand was still resting on the cushion and waited until he caught your gaze. Without breaking eye contact, he withdrew his hand and watched as you settled into your seat. "Hmm, comfy," you hummed.

"Yeah....comfy," he murmured as he handed you a blanket. He reached for the remote and glanced over at you. "Ready?"

"Fire away," you replied as you draped the blanket across your lap.

The chosen movie was called Red, an action-spy-type movie. It was about a small group of retired, former assassins that the government seemed to want retired. Permanently. There was one character, a hotshot CIA agent named William Cooper, who was in charge of the operation. When he first appeared on screen, you leaned forward in your seat to get a better look. For some reason, he looked very familiar to you.

Leonard glanced over at you, wondering why you kept looking back and forth between him and the screen. "Uh, sweetheart, is everything okay?"

"That character, Agent Cooper?" you asked, pointing at the screen. "Does he look at all....familiar to you? Like....anyone you know?"

He looked again, watching as Cooper was running through the building, chasing one of the former assassins named Frank Moses. His eyes narrowed as he tried to find anything recognizable about the character. "I don't think so, nothing sticks out, why?"

You twisted your fingers nervously in your lap. "Well....I think he looks like you. I mean, at least a little bit anyway," you commented.

The two of you went back to watching the movie, and when Cooper appeared again, Leonard paused the screen. After a few moments, he restarted the film. "I don't see any resemblance," he muttered. You did your best to suppress the grin threatening to break free and decided to let it go for the moment so you could enjoy the rest of the story.

A few scenes later, the events of the day caught up to you, and you felt your eyes start to droop closed. When they did, you snapped them back open, but it took a little longer to do so with each passing moment. Your body was also losing the fight with gravity, as it kept leaning over until it connected with Leonard's arm. You nuzzled your head onto his shoulder, then sighed deeply in contentment. He chuckled softly and curled his arm around you while he continued to watch the movie.

As the credits rolled, Leonard noticed it was nearly midnight. He didn't want you to try to drive home when you were half-asleep, so there was only one other choice. He carefully moved off of the couch, then shifted your body until you were fully stretched out on the sofa. He cradled your head, slid a pillow under it, and covered you with the blanket you were using earlier.

Just before he left the room, you briefly opened your eyes. "Leonard? Is the movie over?" you mumbled, not yet fully awake, but you knew it had to be late. "I should get home," you murmured as you started to rise.

Leonard returned and knelt beside the couch, nudging you to lay down again. "Shh, it's okay, darlin'. Movie's over, you can go on back to sleep," he replied softly. He pulled the blanket up under your chin then smiled when you closed your eyes again.

After a few moments, he reached up and brushed the hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. "Goodnight, sweetheart," he whispered. On impulse he pressed a kiss to the side of your head, then stood up and walked to his room. As he turned away, he missed how your lips curved upwards at his sweet gesture.

***

The next morning, you were awakened by the smell of blueberry pancakes with sausages and freshly brewed coffee. You sat up and stretched, feeling more rested than you have for months. One last yawn and you were off to the bathroom to take care of the morning necessities.

When you arrived at the kitchen, Leonard was busy ladling some pancake batter onto a cast iron griddle. You stood in the entrance, observing his movements, which were fluid and precise. He didn't appear hurried, as if everything was perfectly on schedule. He reached out to his right for the tongs to rotate the sausage links. He finished just in time to turn over the pancakes and sprinkle some cheese on the scrambled eggs.

Leonard was suddenly aware of another presence in the kitchen. He grinned when he saw you leaning against the doorway. "Good morning! How'd you sleep?"

"Good morning to you! I slept well, probably better than I have for a while. Thank you for letting me stay," you answered softly. You pushed off the doorframe and sauntered over to the cabinet, in search of coffee mugs. "Breakfast smells wonderful. Good to know your cooking skills extend beyond chopping vegetables for salad," you teased.

"I've been known to flip a flapjack or two in my time, I'll have you know," he sassed in return. "Used to cook a lot of breakfasts for myself, my mom, and my sister before I got married. Even had it for dinner sometimes."

"I remember dinners like this in my family," you remarked. "Growing up, money was usually tight, so we'd have pancakes, or French toast. Sometimes, we'd even have fried egg sandwiches for the evening meal."

Just as the two of you sat down at the table with your plates, Jim wandered in, his eyes nearly popping out of his head at all the food. "Wow, this all looks great! You cookin' for us again, sweetheart?" he asked you.

Since your mouth was full with a bite of blueberry pancake, you shook your head and pointed your empty fork at Leonard. Jim's eyes went wide again at the revelation. "Bones?? You cooked??"

Leonard glared at Jim, who had started to fill a plate with pancakes, sausages, and scrambled eggs with cheese. "Of course I cooked, genius. Jocelyn was the one who didn't cook, remember? Besides, if you insist on insulting me, you don't get any of my fluffy blueberry pancakes," he retorted. "You can have cereal for breakfast."

Jim immediately raised his hands in surrender and apologized for his lack of faith in his friend's cooking ability. There was no way he wanted to miss out on anything from the mouthwatering spread his friend created. With his plate piled high, the topic of conversation turned to plans for the remainder of the day.

"Well, I'll help clean up, but after that, I need to head home and feed my cat, Mimzy. She's a gray tiger-striped tabby cat that I've had for about three years now," you mentioned. "So, I have to do that, plus I have some laundry that I've been putting off for far too long."

"Sounds like you're in for a fun day," Jim snorted.

On your way back to the table, you reached into your pocket to grab your ringing phone. You smiled when you saw that it was Nyota calling and cheerfully greeted her. However, your smile quickly dropped and a look of horror crossed your face. "WHAT?!? Oh my god, I'll be right there. No, I stayed the night at Leonard's, I'll explain later. Meet me at my place, or what's left of it, I guess." The call disconnected and you stumbled to a chair, your phone clattering on the table.

"Darlin'? Is everything okay? What was that about 'what's left of' your place?" Leonard gently prodded.

For a few moments, you were too stunned to speak, tears rolling down your face. "My....there was a fire last night at my apartment building," you murmured. "I won't know how much of my place is damaged until I get there."

"Is everyone okay? What about your cat?" Leonard asked, as he and Jim looked at each other in shock.

"Um....Mimzy's fine, one of the neighbors I gave a key to was able to get her out. Everyone else also got out safely. What am I going to do?" you whispered.

Leonard walked over to where you were sitting and knelt in front of you and rested his hand on your knee. Jim stood on your other side, his hand on your shoulder. Leonard caught your attention and gave you a look that he hoped was a comforting one. "Hey there, darlin'," he gently crooned, his thumb stroking your kneecap. "How about we gather your stuff and I'll take you into town, hmm? I'll drive your car and Jim can follow in my truck. That sound all right?"

The shock was slowly beginning to wear off, which allowed Leonard's words to sink in. "Yeah, that sounds okay. I'm not in the right headspace to be behind the wheel right now," you responded wearily, then you moved your hand to cover his. "Thank you, Len. Both for last night and right now." You rose from your chair and slid your cell phone into your pocket. "I'll get my stuff and be right back."

"Poor kid," Jim lamented as he shook his head.

"Yeah, you said it," Leonard agreed. The silver lining in this situation, if any could be found, was that your cat, Mimzy, was safe. He also thanked his lucky stars that you weren't home at the time of the fire. Since he didn't know how much damage was done, he was determined to be by your side to offer whatever support you needed.

"You know, she could just move in here. Temporarily, of course," Jim hastily added.

Leonard gave him a puzzled look and arched one eyebrow. "You'd be okay with that?" he wondered.

"Bones, it's your house, but think about it. We have a guest room available, she'd be close to work, and she's an amazing cook. How could this not be the perfect solution?" he asked.

Jim had made some excellent points, and it did seem like the ideal answer to the current situation. Except for the fact that Leonard was starting to find he had feelings for you. Ones that grew beyond a working relationship, past friendship and into something more. Having you under the same roof was going to present some unique challenges, but what else could he do?

"Okay, let's ask her."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

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