#It's been one whole day since they happened- are we all alive?

[ashkabbom]

Temporary stresses - Mouthwashing

A/n: I disappeared but I'm back. I finished school and I'm officially on vacation 😋. I had another idea initially, but then I gave up writing to Curly with that one.🎀 Tell me if I wrote something wrong, English is not my first language and I use a translator a lot.

I wanted a story with a happy ending, although it wasn't supposed to end 100% like that 😭

Versão em português no wattpad: Livro de One Shots - Mouthwashing (Conta: ashkabbom)

•Captain Curly x Fem!Reader

Summary/Synopsis: You hate being emotionally raw and your husband has been acting strange lately.

Notes: I wrote this with a happy ending, but in situations like this stress can actually be very dangerous, so be careful if you are going to do this to someone or if you are the person to receive this one day.

You were uncomfortable, to say the least.

It had been seconds, minutes, HOURS, since he had answered you, he avoided you whenever he could! The worst part is that you don't know the reason for all this, even though you told him to tell you when something was bothering him.

He's been acting kind of strange since yesterday. It seemed like you were the only one who was out of touch with all that nervousness and discomfort.

You had been a bit paranoid for some time now, because of these attitudes you didn't know if you had done something and it was eating you alive.

Searching through all your memories and finding nothing you realize you did wrong. Maybe he just got tired?

"I did everything like I always did..." You were rambling on to yourself. Maybe you said something wrong? You know very well that words, no matter how simple they are sometimes, can hurt.

This was all giving you a huge headache and leaving you a mess of emotions. You were just too exhausted.

You were out of the house now, on your lunch break from work, messing around on your phone for a few minutes, more specifically texting your husband, hoping he would answer you like he always did.

He didn't answer you properly, the messages were short and seemed more direct than ever, your husband didn't write and talk to you like that. God, you just wanted to go home.

"You've got that look on your face again." You hear your co-worker, Linda, say and let out a sigh. "What happened now?"

"This is the fourth time we've seen you with that sad, sullen puppy face in the space of 15 minutes," her other friend, Charlotte, says..

"Do you think I'm old?" You ask suddenly.

"What happened to 'Hi friend, I missed you too'? It doesn't exist anymore?" The first woman says.

"Exactly, calm down. You're not old, you're perfect for your age. And old age comes to everyone! It's inevitable." The second friend explains with a raised eyebrow.

"But now it's so different... When we met I was different, my hair, my body... My age..."

"Girl, seriously, what happened? You haven't had these low self-esteem spikes in months, you were so happy" Charlotte says with a sad tone, sitting down next to you.

"That's the problem, I don't know what happened... Since yesterday Curly has been acting a bit strange, avoiding me and being vague at times, but at the same time he's been very short and direct." You think about what your morning had been like that day.

"Oh my, don't be like that, men are a mess all by themselves. I'm not going to put ideas in your head, but let us know if you need help with that." Linda says, running her hand over your back.

"You're still as beautiful as the day you met, so don't worry. If he's going blind and can't see it, take the trash out of your house before it starts stinking up the whole house" Charlotte says, making it clear what she originally meant.

"I just don't know if something happened and he didn't tell me, if I did something and he was uncomfortable..." You love your husband with all your heart, otherwise you wouldn't have married him.

"Girl, put your cards on the table and that man against the wall, if something is going on he will tell you, he is not a lying man" Charlotte advises you in a lighter way now.

"She's right, you have to talk to him, but really talk to him. Just starting a conversation with him won't make him tell you anything... Ask what's going on and if everything is okay." Linda hugs you affectionately. Honestly, maybe this stress is just in your head? You don't know.

"Okay okay, but I'll do it after work, there's still a few more hours until it's time to leave." Grumbling you and your friends get up, heading towards the door while talking about anything now.

You don't know what you would do without them.

Hours had passed since that conversation, it was already getting dark and you were driving home almost completely peacefully.

Being with your friends relieved you a lot, but you still had a little bit of a nagging feeling, not to mention that you also knew that life is not a strawberry and anything can happen.

You were together for 11 years, dating for 4 years and married for 7 years. There was no reason for it all to go down the drain. At least you told yourself that.

You had texted him earlier, saying you were going home now... He hadn't even seen the message, but that's okay! Sometimes he's just busy with... Anything, you think.

Parking the car, you sigh, You hated feeling as tired as you had been feeling lately, you wish you could enjoy some of your time at home instead of just passing out in bed. On the bright side, you were on vacation from your job in 2 days. Just two more days.

Today you would confront him! You would know what was going on with him lately and everything would be okay! Everything has to be okay.

You open the door to the living room and notice the loud silence, seeping through your entire house. You didn't have a good feeling about this..

"Curly? Love?" You call out as you walk through the door and into the room, feeling a little anxious.

You turn to the kitchen and then–

"SURPRISE!" Some voices say/scream at the same time, scaring you at first, but then you notice the cake on the table, balloons, birthday hats, coxinha and other things on the table.

A wave of relief washes over you.

It was your birthday today.

"Happy birthday my love, you don't know how much- Wow, hey, hey! What happened? Why are you crying?" Your husband's cheerful tone soon fades, quickly replaced by a tone of concern.

You hadn't even realized that the wave of relief had brought you to tears, you were crying.

Did something happen? Is she okay?" Anya, Curly's work friend and maid of honor at your wedding a few years ago, asks worriedly, approaching.

"Honey, is something hurting?! Do you need anything? Anything at all? Do you need to go to the hospital?" He was quick to come closer, putting his arms around you as he checked your body with his tender and concerned gaze. God, this was all you wanted.

You try to explain, through your tears, that you're okay, that everything is okay now.

"I thought-" You stop to sniff a few times "I thought you were mad at me. Acting different and distant."

"I told you you sounded thick, but it's amazing how your head doesn't work sometimes." You hear Swansea's voice and let out a laugh through your tears.

"I'm so happy that everything is okay and that you're not mad at me." You explain as you wipe away your tears, soon feeling Curly's hand on your cheek while the other rests on your waist.

"I'm sorry my love, I would never be mad or upset with you, a thousand apologies darling" He says as he peppers your face with kisses, apologizing several times. "Please, I'm so sorry"

"We told him to hide it and not tell you or give you any hints about your surprise party and such, since last time he ended up telling you... But I think asking him to disguise himself wasn't... the best idea" Daisuke says as he analyzes the situation with a disappointed face.

You laugh a little and soon they join you, then a small silence arises, but it is quickly broken.

"So?" Swansea begins

""Is everything okay in there?" Anya asks, looking at you calmly and with a little concern. "Are you feeling any pain?"

"How are you and she?" Daisuke asks in the most direct way.

You sniff one last time and look down, running your hand over your belly.

"I will never make you cry like that again." He finishes with a peck on the lips and runs his hand over your belly. "I will never worry the two girls in my life again. I promise"

You look at him fondly. "We're fine, we just went through a hurricane today and yesterday." You laugh lightly. "Now let's eat this cake, I'm hungry for two."

The others laugh at your answer and soon everyone gathers around the table to celebrate your birthday.

You really hope you never have to go through that worry again, not even Curly would do it again.

You have the most caring husband and your daughter would have the best dad.

[crazyhickofftheirrocker]

Did I hit my head? Or did Lisa Swain actually admit she has feelings for me?

[sudokuplayer]

i'm so angry and heartbroken and i think this is all i will ever be

[steviescrystals]

there is no feeling worse in the world than missing your grandma :/

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

devotion. l General Marcus Acacius

Summary:  he returned to Rome in glory, he returned to you

Warnings:  smut, angst, unprotected sex (don't do it!), fingering, mention of pregnancy, a few nasty words

A/N: that was a quick shot. i hope you'll be gentle with me. your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

You saw perfectly how his brown eyes widened when he saw you in the crowd of guests in the Emperor's palace. The golden wreath on his curly dark hair, the sun-kissed body dressed in white and gold - he looked like one of the Gods you could worship in a temple. 

And wasn't he one of them? One of those legendary heroes? The one who brought glory to the Roman Empire. One of your Emperor's favorites.

Wasn't he the man you had loved for so long?

When he crossed the threshold of your home late in the evening, you could finally fall into each other's arms. In that moment, he was your Marcus, the man you loved more than life, to whom you had promised loyalty, to whom you had promised eternal devotion and faithfulness.

His warm, plush lips crushed against yours in a kiss full of longing and love that you had to keep so far from each other. Strong arms wrapped around you like vines, but you clung to him with your whole body, yearning for his closeness so much.

"Almost four years..." he sighed as he rested his forehead against yours "I counted every day, my love. And every day was unimaginable torture."

Your hand stroked his bearded cheek "I knew you would return. The Gods promised to give you back to me, and here you are. Safe and sound." Your fingers tenderly stroked the scar on his cheek, slipping into his hair interwoven with silver threads "I can't believe you're finally here."

Marcus' hands tightened around your waist "Tell me you're not just a beautiful dream..."

"I'm here, my love." You whispered, tenderly touching his lips "All yours." He pressed his lips to yours as if he had to make sure that you weren't a dream, laughing, you pulled away from him slightly "Marcus, we need to talk, so much has happened..."

"We have the whole next day, our whole lives for this. Please... Let's not talk tonight. I want to love you, adore you, caress your body." He sounded like a man possessed, hungry for your body "I need to remind myself of every curve of your body. I want to taste you and immerse myself in your sweetness. I beg you, my beloved..."

You couldn't refuse him, you didn't want to. The dream of the warmth and closeness of his body had haunted you almost since he left for that cursed war. You couldn't wait any longer.

The heavy door of your chamber closed, and after a moment you were both taking off your robes. Hands craving a familiar touch, lips searching for each other. Hot lips wandered around your neck when you felt the cool sheet under your fingers. Marcus raised himself on his shoulders, his dark as night eyes roaming your body.

"Give me a moment..." he said as you tried to pull him closer to you. "You're more beautiful than I remember you."

You laughed quietly, a little embarrassed by his confession. "I'm definitely older."

"As am I. But to me you'll always be equal to the goddesses."

"Don't say that, Marcus. Don't incur the wrath of the Gods, they can be jealous."

A mocking smile appeared on his face. "I'm not afraid! The earth could open up beneath me and swallow me alive, but I won't stop repeating it. You are a goddess, my love. I dedicate my life to serving you. Only you."

"Then do it. Use your body and all your strength to do it."

You didn't have to repeat it twice. Your lips connected again in a strong and deep kiss. His tongue invaded between your lips, extracting from you those sweet moans that returned to him during sleepless nights. 

His hard cock rested on your thigh, and you felt excitement and fear, it had been so long since you felt him inside but  you wanted him so much.

Marcus' lips slid down to your sternum, then your breast. He kissed it and bit it lightly, despite the time he still remembered everything that made your body tremble. When the nipple disappeared in his mouth you felt your walls tighten slightly, giving you a signal that you couldn't wait any longer. But it was Marcus who dominated you, doing whatever he wanted with your body.

When his long fingers moved over your slippery folds you moaned shamelessly.

"So thirsty..." he whispered, his lips brushing your belly "Let me prepare you first, love. Let me..." two fingers slid inside you with incredible ease, all the way to his knuckles "I've got you."

Your body arched like a string, the stretch felt so good. Marcus pulled his fingers out and after a moment he pushed them back in, watching your reaction with great pleasure.

"If you could see it." he kissed the inside of your thigh tenderly "So hungry, so greedy."

"Harder..." you moaned, grabbing his wrist and trying to take control, but he wouldn't let you.

He grabbed yours with his other hand, quickly brushed it with his lips, and then his fingers started moving faster and harder. You heard that lewd sound that showed how wet you were and how your body reacted to his caresses.

"Give me everything. Cum on my fingers, love." Marcus panted, feeling his hard cock throb at the sight of your body. "Don't torture yourself like that, love. Cum."

And you did. Your thighs clenched as a shiver of pleasure ran through your body, and a sweet moan escaped your throat. You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling your head buzzing, but suddenly Marcus took control again. 

His strong arms spread your thighs, and his hard cock slid inside you without warning. You lost your breath. Your eyes rolled back under your eyelids, and when his strong body pinned you to the bed, you knew there was no escape.

"Fuck..." he moaned loudly, dazed by the feeling. "You're so tight, so warm..."

"Marcus... I feel like you're going to tear me apart..." you moaned, taking his face in your hands and kissing him. "Gods!"

"Don't summon them, love." he mumbled quietly, brushing your lips "They'll be jealous of us."

His hand grabbed your leg under the knee and he lifted it slightly, thrusting into you even deeper. You didn't know how on earth it was possible, but his cock seemed to dig into you even more with each thrust. 

His body, his strength intoxicated you. Your beloved transformed under your fingers into a barbarian who came to your bed just to fuck you and use your body as he wished.

You felt another orgasm building inside you and you wanted to tell him that, but in an instant Marcus lifted himself up. Without leaving you he pulled you with him and sat on his heels, you fell onto his thighs, impaling yourself on him even more.

Your arms wrapped around his neck tighter, fingers entangled in his hair as he lifted your body and used it as he wanted to, to get what he came for.

"I'm so close, so close." he breathed into your ear. "I want to feel you again, give it to me. Give it to me!"

As if on command, your body gave in. Your walls trembled and squeezed around his manhood, you clung to him tighter as he now pressed you hard and violently against his cock. But Marcus was close too and soon you felt his body tense up and he poured into you, filling you up with his warm seed.

You were both panting, your bodies still sweaty and hot. His heartbeat mixed with yours and no matter how many breaths you took, it still wasn't enough.

"You're definitely not a dream." he murmured, kissing your shoulder gently.

"How can you be so sure?" you giggled, looking fondly at his blissful face.

"The Gods would have to be incredibly cruel if they let me experience immortality with you and then ordered me to return to mortal life." his fingers tenderly stroked your back "You have to be real." 

You kissed him tenderly feeling indescribable love for this man. At the same time, however, a small flame of anxiety rose in your heart thinking about the upcoming day.

He was torn from his sleep by the quiet sound of the door closing, and then your footsteps on the stone floor. He lazily rubbed his eyelids and opened them, noticing you pouring yourself a glass of water.

"Why did you get dressed?" His voice was hoarse, and it gave you shivers "I didn't say I was done with you."

You smiled, walking over to the bed and sitting on its edge "You were done with me at least three times last night, General." you noticed, leaning down and kissing his soft lips "You should rest your loins."

"I'll rest after death. Right now, I just want to keep my cock between your thighs, where it belongs." he replied "I've been thinking about it for almost four years and I have no intention of giving you up now."

Marcus noticed the smile disappearing from your face, and your gaze wandered to the window open to the garden. He knew that look. Something was worrying you and occupying your mind.

He sat down on the bed, his hand tenderly stroking your arm. "What's wrong, my dear? Something's on your mind."

"Marcus... So much has happened since you left." You said quietly. "I don't even know where to start... It all scares me so much."

"What do you mean?" he asked. "Tell me, because I can see how much you're struggling."

He saw you nervously squeezing your fingers, and your eyes avoiding his gaze. Finally, you stood up and took a few steps. Marcus watched you carefully as he put on his robe, a strange fear growing in his heart. 

What if this was all just a dream? What if you tell him to wake up now?

You were already opening your mouth to say something when a commotion in the hallway and quick footsteps tore your attention away. The door opened wide and a small boy rushed into the room.

"Mommy!" he called, running up to you and wrapping his small arms around your legs. 

Right behind him, a woman in a servant's robe ran in, apologizing from the entrance. "My lady, he wanted to see you so much. I told him you had a guest, but he..."

"Nothing happened, Tullia." You replied, smiling faintly, clearly embarrassed. "Please, take him to the garden." You ran your fingers through the boy's dark, curly hair. "I'll see you in a moment, okay, little bug?"

The boy smiled and grabbed the servant's hand, gave Marcus a quick glance with his brown eyes, and left the room, leaving you in complete silence.

You could clearly feel the tension that had grown between you. You wrapped your arms around yourself, as if you wanted to hide, and looked up at Marcus. Surprise was written on his face. His dark eyebrows furrowed, and his jaw clenched. He stared at the door, and only your voice made him look at you.

"I didn't know how to tell you this..." you whispered "I've been planning this in my head for almost four years, and now I'm standing in front of you and I'm speechless."

"You're a mother." His voice was low, you nodded "All this time I thought you were waiting for me, and you..."

"Marcus, let me explain, please." You wanted to approach him, but he just raised his hand, and you froze.

He swallowed, and his dark eyes were fixed on you like daggers ready to attack "Before I left we promised each other... You promised me that you would wait for me. That you would be faithful to me."

"And I was." You groaned.

"Don't lie to me!" he roared, and you stepped back, scared "For four years I lived only thanks to the thought that you were waiting for me, that you loved me despite everything. And now? You promised me!"

"Let me explain, Marcus." Your eyes stung from the tears that were seeping into your eyelids. "You don't understand..."

He was like a beast locked in a cage. His eyes darkened and his hands clenched into fists. It was the first time he looked at you with such contempt and disappointment, and your heart was breaking with every passing second.

"I thought you were devoted to me. That you committed to waiting for me, if I knew you were just a whore..."

These words were the last straw that broke the camel's back. You suddenly straightened up and raised your head, looking at Marcus defiantly.

"Don't talk to me about commitment, devotion and loyalty when that's what I've been doing for four years." you said sharply, you saw that he opened his mouth, but this time you didn't let him get a word in. "I was pregnant when you left Rome with the army. For many months I hid it from my surroundings, but I still heard the whispers and gossip. I carried him under my heart, gave birth to him and I raised him alone, despite everything. Despite the lack of guarantee that you'll come back. So you have no right to talk to me about commitment and loyalty, or judge me without knowing everything! Julius is your son. You can either accept it or leave." 

Marcus looked as if you had stabbed him at that moment. There was silence and only the laughter coming from the garden tore you out of this freeze. The General approached the door leading to the garden. Between the bushes and flowers he saw the silhouettes of a few boys playing, including the one who called you mother.

"I didn't know..." he said quietly, his eyes following the boy carefully.

"How were you supposed to know?"

"Call him."

"Marcus, please..." you whispered, a cold shiver running down your spine.

He looked at you, but you couldn't read anything on his face. "Call him, please. Or I will." He could see, however, that you were unable to utter a word. "Julius! Come here, boy."

The sounds of fun faded away and after a moment you heard the shuffling of sandals as the boy approached you, dragging a wooden sword behind him. He stopped in front of Marcus, but his frightened gaze went straight to you, afraid that he had done something wrong.

Marcus looked at him carefully, towering over the boy. Finally, he spoke.

"Do you know who I am?"

Julius's eyes went to the man's face. He nodded.

"A general. Mom told me." he said quietly. "A soldier. Like my dad."

You saw Marcus give you a quick look, but he couldn't resist asking another question. "Where's your father, boy?"

"At war. Far away." He looked down and shuffled his shoes. "Mom says he's brave."

"And are you brave?"

You covered your mouth with your hand to hold back a sob as Julius shook his head.

"I'm not. Sometimes I'm scared, so then I go to mom."

Marcus crouched down in front of the boy so that their faces were at the same height. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of the resemblance between them.

"Where did you get that sword?" Marcus continued.

Julius visibly perked up. "Mom gave it to me. To make me brave."

"Will you show it to me?"

The boy handed him his wooden sword and Marcus looked at it. "It's a very good sword." Julius' face lit up with a smile.

He accepted the sword back from the General and you had the impression that he stood more straight and proud. Marcus looked at him for a moment longer, then ruffled his hair asking him to go back to playing.

"I didn't know what to tell him when he started asking about his father." You started quietly as Marcus watched the boy who had already run after his friends. "I didn't know if you'd ever come back... I wanted to believe it, but he needed answers. That's all I could give him."

"He is..."

"Perfect." You finished for him. "He's smart, empathetic, sensitive and not at all as cowardly as he says. He's afraid of storms, so he comes to me at night."

Marcus turned around looking at you with tenderness. You noticed tears in his eyes and after a moment they ran down your cheeks.

"I wanted him to be safe." You sobbed. "I thought that when you came back and saw him... Every day I saw you in his eyes."

Warm hands grabbed your face as Marcus put his forehead to yours. You placed your hands on his, trying to calm your breathing.

"I'm sorry..." he whispered "I beg you, forgive me for doubting you. I didn't expect this. The thought that you could marry someone else, give him children..."

"How could I do that? I gave my heart to you, Marcus. For eternity."

Warm lips brushed yours.

"You gave me a son. You're so brave. Too good for me... I don’t deserve you and him." he whispered "I'm sorry I doubted you, my love."

"Please, don't talk about it anymore. Just get to know him, and you'll surely love him too."

"But will he love me?" doubt sounded in his voice "Julius doesn't know his father."

You tenderly stroked his face, wanting to erase all worries from him.

"Julius knows his father is brave, strong, and that he loved me more than anything in his life. He will welcome you with open arms, Marcus. Just give yourself a chance. Give us all a chance." 

He nodded and snuggled up to you with all his might. When he returned to Rome in glory, his greatest dream was to see you again. And you gave him so much more. You gave him more than the Emperor could.

You gave him life.

☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[mooooonnnzz]

World/Insured Part 3

Stanford Pines x Sibling!Reader/Stanley Pines x Sibling!Reader

☆ hope you guys r liking it so far!! :p

☆ 4,4k words

✶ “Can we talk about [Name]?” Ford suddenly brings up one day. The waves of tourists have been moderately slow for the day, allowing Stan and Ford to kick back and relax for once. And in the midst of sitting down on the couch, his mind dwelled over to the thought of you. Stan let out a long sigh as he sat down, pitt cola in hand. Stan was trying to break free from his alcohol addiction, Ford noted. “Sure, what do you want to talk about?” The causality held in Stan’s words made Ford uneasy. He was so unnaturally calm with his words, at least the last time he brought you up, he can sense the agitation in his words, but he couldn’t find any dripping anger from him now. Mustering up all the courage he had left, he asked; “How were they?” He felt his mouth run dry. Out of everything he could’ve asked, he asked that? All the questions he had were out the window and off into the woods, leaving him scrambling for words. Taking a sip from his soda, he said, “Do you want to know how they felt immediately after they left with me?” Ford nods. “Well, being fifteen and a rage of hormones, they pretty much hated you.” Stan’s eyes glance over to Ford whose face could visibly read hurt. “I’m just kidding!” Stan cackled, shoving Ford. “They were ripped apart. I remember they told me how they felt everything and nothing at the same time, real poetic than one.” He takes another sip. “They missed you so much while I hated your guts. I couldn’t think of you without seeing red and they couldn’t think of you without crying.” He swirled the drink in the can, looking down to his shuffling feet. “What did you guys do to survive?” 

✶ “I enrolled them into a high school. I didn’t want them to be stupid like me, ya know? And while they were in highschool, I started my business which earned us money to get by.” Stan told him. “Would you even call what you did a business?” Ford said with his eyebrow raised. “Hey!” Stan rolled his eyes, placing the can of soda down on the floor. “Once we got banned from a few states, [Name] put their foot down and encouraged me to get a job. And guess what, I landed a pretty good job! My history of stealing peoples money was long gone, until now,” Stan quietly said the last part. “And we were living pretty comfortably. I got us a nice house, a good car and [Name] graduated highschool and they got a job as manager of some sort, can’t really remember.” Stan scratched his chin idly. “They were on their way to move out and take their business elsewhere when you decided to show your face.” Stan cleared his throat, looking at Ford. “They talked about you a lot.” He softly added. “I saw how they lit up when they saw me for the first time. They looked so much older.” Ford said. “I mean, yeah, that’s what happens when you miss, like, 10 years of their life.” Ford ignored Stan’s comments and mulled over his thoughts. After a moment, he spoke up. “Thank you for talking about them, Stan.” Stan shot him a smile. “Of course, talking about them wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be.” Since then, Stan would share stories of you whenever Ford asked, ranging from embarrassing ones, to one’s where it was a little harder for Stan to tell. But in the end, it brought them closer together and kept the memory of you alive. 

✶ Much to Ford’s dismay, the whole shack was rearranged to be a tourist trap. By day, they were busy ripping people of their money and by night, they buried themselves in their work, fixing what they could while simultaneously searching for the second book. And before they knew it, they were in their late 50’s. Adjusting his fez, he smiles at himself through the mirror. “Stan!” Ford bursts through his room, starling Stan. “Geez, Ford! A little warning next time?” Ford stammers over to him. “No time for that!” He huffs out. “The book! I-I can’t find it!” Stan’s face falls. “What?! What happened to it?” Ford opened his mouth to answer when Soos yelled out; “Mr. Pines!” Stan curses to himself, that must be the kids. “Do you have any idea where it could be?” Stan asks. Out of all the days something could’ve gone wrong, why today? “I think maybe the gnomes took it?” Stan was ready to scream again when Soos called for them again. “I want you to go and look for the book.” Stan insisted, pointing a finger at him. “I’m not coming with you to get Dipper and Mabel?” Ford gasped out, his hand slapping on his chest. “No! Because you lost the book!” Stan pointed an accusatory finger at him. “I lost the book? It was probably a gnome who took it!” Ford defended. “How are you so sure that a gnome even took it?” Ford scratched the back of his neck nervously. “They may or may not have knocked me out just a few moments ago.” Stan was so ready to deck him in the face when Soos came into the room. “Mr. Pines!” He pointed outside. “The kids are here!” “We know that, Soos.” The twins spat out. “But there’s this wolf mailman dude, and I really don’t trust him and he’s probably like eating the kids right now at the bus stop!” Soos rambled out. While Stan carried an unimpressed face, Ford’s face twisted to one of horror. “We need to pick them up now!” Unfortunately for Stan, both Soos and Ford have a rising suspicion that the mailman is a wolf in a human disguise. But the man was just hairy! Ford pulled Stan along and got inside his car. Starting up the car, Stan let out an exhausted sigh. “How did puny little gnomes knock you out?” He asked, backing out of his parking spot and onto the road. “I was busy reading when they knocked me out cold! I don’t think they intended to steal the journal, when I was waking back up they realized and grabbed the nearest object possible and ran out of there.” Stan sighed, tapping his finger on the wheel. “I really can’t believe you sometimes.” He mutters. “It wasn’t my fault, Stanley!” 

✶ Coming to a complete stop, Ford rolled down the windows, a large smile on his face when his eyes landed on his favorite great nieces. “Grunkle Ford!” They cheer, equally large smiles on their faces. “Hey, hey!” Stan watched as they stumbled into the car with their bulky backpacks skidding against the roof. “Where’s my love?” Stan exclaimed. “Right here, Grunkle Stan.” Mable giggled, wrapping her arms around Stan’s neck and nuzzling her face into his shoulder. “That’s more like it,” Stan grinned, gingerly patting her back. “Now where’s the sweaty one? I’m missing one!” Dipper sighed, a playful roll to his eyes. “I’m right here,” Mable pulled away from Stan and swiftly latched herself to Ford. “C’mon, give your old grunkle some sugar.” Dipper cringed. “Don’t ever say that again, Grunke Stan.” He said, hugging Stan. “I say what I want, kid! We live in a free country for a reason.” The drive home was full of conversation, the twins telling their grunkle’s stories from school and their home life. Stan and Ford made the conscious effort to comment and react to everything they said, if not Mable would make sure they did by repeating what they said over and over again. When the Mystery Shack came into view, they both shoved their face against the window, marveling at the shack. “Is this what Grunkle Stan is always talking about when we call him?” Mable’s hot breath fogged up the window. “Yup. And now you guys get to see it.” Ford gestured to the shack, smiling proudly. He had soon come to love the shack he and Stan worked on, he will never admit that out loud though. Parking in his usual spot, he turns to the kids. “Get yourself settled in, alright?” They wasted no time jumping out of the car and scampering off into the shack. “And don’t touch anything!” A jar crashing onto the floor was heard in the distance. “They don’t listen, do they?” Stan shook his head. “Alright, poindexter, what are we going to do about the book?” He started, looking at Ford who pulled at his turtle neck anxiously. “We have to wait till tonight to look for it.” Tonight came and they were too wrapped up with the twins that they couldn’t go out and search for the third book. Their schedules became so busy that a week had passed and they still were waiting to find an empty slot in their schedules to find the book but it never came.

✶ “Grunkles! Grunkles!” Mable came running at them at full speed. “Woah there, kiddo!” Ford swooped Mable up from the floor. “You almost bumped into me.” He laughed, putting her back down on the ground. “That was the plan.” She giggled. “But I have something to ask!” She shoved her hand inside the pocket of her skirt. She pulled out a photo, a very specific photo that Stan had kept in his room. She pointed at the person in the middle. “Who is this?” She asks. “Mable!” Dipper rushed to the living room. Bending over, he hoisted himself up by propping his arms on his knees. He wheezed out, his eyes locking onto the tense scene in front of him. “Did she already ask about the photo?” Silence was his response. Breaking out of his trance, Stan swiped the photo out of Mable’s hands. “Where did you find this?” Stan’s eyes flickered between the photo and Mable. “In your room.” A flash of emotions went through Stan’s face. Why was Mable in his room? Why did she pick this photo out of all the things in his room? He spiraled. He wasn’t expecting to speak of you to someone who had no idea of your existence. Stan’s heart crumpled into a pathetic ball. The twins had never met you. Ford took notice of Stan’s unnaturally quiet nature.  “Kids, why don’t you go to your rooms?” Ford said, kneeling down to their height. “But why?” Mable whined, pouting. “Because we need to decide if we are ready to tell you, okay?” Ford gave a knowing look to Dipper who understood that this wasn’t an easy topic. Dipper told something to Mable and with a worried look, she dejectedly followed him up to their room. “Stan?” He looks over to Stan who was shakily pulling out a packet of cigarettes. “I thought you quit, Stanley?” Ford watched sadly as he walked inside the kitchen and searched for a lighter, when he did he pocketed it and walked back out. “It’s either I drink or I smoke.” Stan said, heading towards the porch. Ford followed after him, shutting the door behind him. “You want one?” Stan offered the pack and he debated for a moment before denying his request. Stan brought the cigar to his lips. He cupped his hand around the cigar as he lit it up with his lighter. Taking a deep drag of the smoke, he allowed himself to relax, welcoming the familiar feeling of the smoke filling his lungs. “We don’t have to tell them if you don’t want to.” Ford spoke, watching the puff of gray smog lighty cover his vision momentarily. “I don’t think we have a choice here.” Stan takes another long drag from the cigarette. “We can tell them we’re not ready yet.” Ford reasons. “I think it’s time they should know about [Name].” Stan stares at the late afternoon sky. “It was just all so sudden and I didn’t know how to react. It all went downhill from there.” Stan twiddled his cigarette between his fingers. “You don’t have to explain yourself, Stanley. I know how you feel.” A comfortable silence blanketed the both of them warmly. “Do you ever wonder what [Name] would think about the twins?” Ford breaks the silence, glancing at Stan from the corner of his eye. Stan wistfully smiled, stubbing out his cigarette on the floor. “[Name] would have loved the twins.” 

✶ Stan looked between the twins. “So, whaddya wanna know?” He asks. “Who are they!” Mable shouted. “They are our younger sibling.” Ford said. Mable’s face exploded into shock. “We have a secret Great Aunt/Grunkle?” Mable couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Where are they?” Dipper questioned. “They’re somewhere,” Stan said with a strained voice. “Where is somewhere?” Mable cocked her head to the side. “They’re out exploring the world.” Ford horribly lied. Mable frowned. “You can tell us if they’re dead, Grunkles. You don’t have to hide it from us.” Stan took a harsh deep breath in. “They aren’t dead, pumpkin. We just have no idea where they’re at.” Mable nodded her head in understanding. “Did you guys fall out?” Dipper asked with a tiny frown. “Yeah. A terrible fight broke out and they left.” Ford gazed at the photo of the three of them when they were young, clueless of the world and just happy to be surrounded by one another. “I’m so sorry.” Mable’s excitement was no longer there and was replaced by sadness for her poor Grunkle’s. “It’s okay, dear. No need to apologize.” Ford assured Mable with a smile. “[Name] is a wonderful person,” This was the first time Stan had talked about you in a present tense and he couldn’t tell if he liked that or not. “I hope one day you get to meet them.”

✶ Unbeknownst to the two older twins, Dipper had found journal three when Stan instructed him to go out and put out signs in the woods. But they didn’t find out that Dipper had it until he had shown the book to Ford and Stan after the events that had followed them the past few days. “Gideon nearly destroyed the whole town trying to find it!” Dipper said. Stan pretended to feign interest as he skimmed through the pages. “I don’t know what it means, or who wrote it, but after all we’ve been through,” He looks at Mable and smiles, directing attention to his Grunkle’s who were trying their hardest to hide their actual feelings. “Maybe you guys should finally know about it too.” He grinned. “I’m glad you showed us this, Dipper.” Stan shut the book closed. “Uhm, Grunkle Stan. Why does Grunkle Ford look like he’s about to crap himself?” Mable looked concerned for her Grunkle. Everyone turned their attention to Ford who weakly smiled at them. “Excuse him. He’s still shaken–” Ford yanked Stan by the sleeve and pulled him out of the twins room. “We need to go to the lab now!” Ford whispered. “I know that, Stanford! But at least let us pretend we don’t give a ratsass for this book!” He whispered back. “We’ll be back!” Ford awkwardly excused him and Stan. The twins heard their Grunkle speedily walk down the stairs. “Do you think I’m ever going to get that book back?” Mable shrugged. 

✶ Placing the books right next to each other, Ford flipped to the pages containing the blueprints. He connected the books together, showing the full plan of the portal. Stan read the instructions and swung over to the controls, he flipped the exact switches that were told to be switched. The lights around the portal flickered on. “Oh my god!” Ford laughed out in surprise. “Is this actually going to work?” Stan and Ford rush over to the portal. Their hearts thrumming against their chest. Together, they pulled the lever. With a click, it moved to the other side and the portal hummed. Zaps of electricity emitted from the portal as it powered back on. A rush of wind blew by Stan and Ford as the portal swirled to life. Ford shook his head in disbelief. “Can’t believe we did it, huh?” Stan says with a smile. “I thought we were never going to get this portal turned on.” Stan claps his back. “Well, believe it!” 

✶ Ford was so sure they weren’t going to get caught. He was so absolutely sure. The plan he made to steal the nuclear waste was perfect, there was no room for error. But it seemed like the universe had other plans. He never imagined himself getting pinned to a cop car with cuffs around his wrists. This was more of a Stanley thing, and yet here he is, getting arrested. “This is all just a big misunderstanding!” Ford cried out, his cheek squished against the hood of the cop car. “Guys, can’t I give you some money?” Stan approached them with his hands in his pockets. They all watched him nervously, guns aimed and men ready to tackle him down. “Grunkle Stan, maybe you shouldn’t!” Mable grabs Stan’s hand and pulls him back. “You guys got the wrong guy, my brother is innocent!” Stan argues. “Oh, we’ve been watching your family all summer and we have seen some pretty disturbing things. Whoever you think your brother is, he is not what he seems.” They shove Ford into a car. “Guys!” Ford calls, the door slamming shut on him. Stan watches as they drive off with Ford, his head spinning. “As for you guys, we were removing you off the property.” The guy with a mustache said, directing them to another cop car that was beside them. “No, you can’t!” Stan felt helpless. He just wants you back, why is this so difficult? The chaos spiraled into madness and suddenly, Stan was in the lab, begging the kids to not turn off the portal. “This’ll end the world, Grunkle Stan. Why can’t you see that?” Dipper had his hands hovering dangerously close to the button. “Just listen to me, kid. It’ll make sense later, just don’t press the button.” He walked towards them but was soon taken off his feet. “Brace yourselves!” They all rise up, twirling and thrashing around the room. “T-Minus, thirty five seconds.” The robotic voice said. Dipper had grabbed onto a beam and told Mable to reach for the button. Using the cable wrapped on her foot, she inched herself close to the button. “Mable, wait, wait!” Stan pushed him off the wall and tried reaching towards her. Soos dove straight for Stan and wrapped himself around him, apologizing to him. “Soos, what’re you doing?!” Dipper followed what Soos did and yelled at Mable to turn it off. 

✶ “Stop!” Everyone looked around and they all gasped when their eyes landed on Ford. “Mabel, don’t listen to Dipper. Listen to me,” Ford pushed himself toward the nearest beam. He coiled his arm around it, securing himself. “Do you trust me and Stan, Mable?” Ford firmly asked, his eyes locked with Mabel. “I do!” She desperately said. “Then trust us when we tell you to not push the button.” Mabel looked to Dipper who was widely shaking his head. “Okay,” She raises her hands above her head. “I trust you guys.” She let herself float up, away from the button. “Mable, no–!” A white flash envelops them whole. 

✶ They all roughly made contact with the floor. With a groan, Stan rubbed his head, his head lifting up towards the portal. The portal flickered with wandering electricity. Ford held his breath, eyes fixed on the portal as he waited. A black figure barreled out of the portal, their head whipping towards it. “Close the portal!” You yelled, your hand wrapping around a gun that was hoisted in their waist. You turned their attention back to Stan and Ford. “Close the portal!” You repeated louder this time. In the distance, they all heard a loud distorted guttural grumble. Ford got up from his feet and rushed over to the control panel, flicking all the switches down. “Switch the lever off!” Switching the gun to your other hand, you aimed it at the portal and with your free hand, you pulled the lever. Before whatever monster was chasing you could catch up, the portal sputtered close. You held your chest, catching your breath. The rush of adrenaline you felt passed and you were immediately struck with pain. “Thank you.” You whisper, clutching your side. You think you can manage and to prove it, you take one wobbly step forward. You tried to take another but you collapsed to your knees,  blood splattering on the floor below you. “[Name]!” Stan yelled, he darted towards you. “Stanley?” You croaked out. You blinked in surprise. “Is that really you?” Your question falls on deaf ears as Stan yells for medical supplies. Ford comes rushing to your side, inspecting the upper half of your body. “Stanford’s here too?” You felt your body teeter from side to side. “Is Mom and Dad gonna pop up?” You joke, your body crashing onto Ford. “[Name], can….hear…?”  Stan’s voice fades in and out. “What did you say?” Your eyes squint at Stan. “Here, Grunkle…” You could hear a high pitched voice and you go to look for it but your vision has gone hazy. “They’re slipping…out of…” You really wished you understood what they were saying. And without even realizing, your eyes closed on you. 

✶ You feel a warmth tickle your face causing you to stir awake. “Oh my gosh, it worked!” A voice spoke. “Mable!” A prepubescent voice filled your ears. “What is with all this talking?” You sleepily grumbled out, peeling your eyes open to see two tween kids staring right at you with big wondrous eyes. “Hi, I’m Mable! I’m your great niece.” She introduced herself. “Great niece?” You groggily got up. “Where am I?” You ask, blinking as your vision comes back to you. “You’re in the Mystery Shack!” She tells you with a chipper attitude. “Mystery Shack?” You look down to see that your original outfit you wore was now discarded somewhere and instead wore a large baggy white tee and heart pajama pants. “What am I wearing?” You pinched at your clothes. “Kids!” A gruff voice was heard behind the doors. “Oh shoot!” Mable looked around the room. “Where do we hide?” Dipper whispered, his eyes darting under the bed. “Go under the bed!” Dipper said, diving straight under. “Please don’t tell Grunkle Stan that we’re here!” She pleaded. “Uhm, yeah?” She beamed and hid right under the bed. In an instant, the door was pushed open and your eyes locked on your brothers. Your brain processed it for a moment, wait… “Stanley, Stanford?!” A gasp leaves Ford. “Why are you awake! You’re supposed to be resting.” Ford scolded. You didn’t pay attention to Ford’s scolding, wrapped up in the moment of seeing your twin brothers living and breathing right in front of you. “Are you guys real?” You try to blink away the tears that were obstructing your view. “Of course we are silly.” Stan laughed, sitting down on the bed right next to you and wrapping you in a side hug. “Stan…” You cried. You had spent countless nights, shouldering the knowledge that you weren’t going to see your brothers ever again. That haunted you every single day from the moment you woke up to the minute you went to sleep. Here you are, proven wrong for once in your life. And it feels so good to be held by Stan again, feels so good to have a familiar feeling wash into your senses again. “How?” You ask, peeling yourself away from Stan’s shoulder, wiping the tears away. “We just kept trying and trying.” Ford told you, a somber smile on his lips. “Oh, Ford. Come here!” You grab his wrist and tug him into the bed. The action caused you to drag and flop all of them on the bed with you. Tearful laughter erupts in the room. “I apologize for the scare earlier,” You say, your hand pressing against your side. “Don’t apologize. It wasn’t your fault.” Stan said. “No, really.” You begin to unwrap the gauze around your waist, ignoring Ford and Stan’s protest. “I heal quickly.” You point to your already sealed up gash. The only thing left to prove that you were injured was the thin scar that spread across. Ford gawks in awe. “You need to tell me an in depth story detailing every single thing you have been doing for the past thirty years.” Ford said with so much seriousness you laughed. “Bu-but you passed out. Ford said it was from blood loss!” 

✶ “I only passed out because my body needs to shut down momentarily to heal up my wounds.” You tell him matter of factly. “Oh, great. Now we have another snobby nerd.” Stan joked. “Oh, stop it! You are too, considering you fixed the portal alongside with Mr. Branic over here.” You jabbed a thumb over to Ford who yelled out, “Hey!” in offense. “Hello family!” Mable popped out from under the bed. The three of you screamed loudly in fear, clutching each other. “Woah, didn’t mean to scare you guys!” She helped Dipper out from under the bed. “I just wanted to say that you guys are so adorable!” She squealed, pouncing onto the bed. “I can’t believe I have a Great Aunt/Grunkle who has traveled throughout dimensions. Isn’t that so cool?” She kicked her feet in excitement. “What kinds of monsters did you see out there?” Dipper asked, climbing onto the bed and settling himself between you, Ford and Stan. “A lot.” You respond with a smile. “I never caught your brother's name.” You say, booping Dipper’s nose. “His name is Dipper!” Mable pulls him close to her, cheek to cheek. “We’re twins.” She mentioned. “So it runs in the family, huh?” You elbow the two sets of other twins you had the misfortune to partially grow up with. “Guess so,” Stan smiled. “Let’s play a get to know each other game.” Mable offered. Everyone surprisingly agreed. “Okay, let’s start with Great Aunt/Grunkle [Name]. Tell us about yourself.” The rest of the afternoon was spent catching up with the family and when the game was over, the twins had left, leaving you with Stan and Ford. “Thank you guys for not giving up on me.” You say into the hug. “We’re family! How could we ever abandon you?” Ford replies. An awkward cough emitted from you and Stan looked off to the side. “Oh.” The last thirty years had been rough, for you and the twins, but it was nice knowing that it ended with the three of you once again reunited at last. 

IT'S DONNE, and again if you guys want more i'll write more but till then i think this concludes word/insured YIPPIE

Taglist: @boredwithlifeatthispoint, @lovexsage, @teddycricketdream, @theilluminatidragonqueen, @raventeen @cedarmoonzz if you wanna be added to my taglist, dm me or comment! <3

[phoenixkaptain]

I love it when pre Original Trilogy era shows how much effort went into making the Death Star. It took decades, literal decades, and it took so much money and so many people and it was such a secretive thing and it’s staffed by millions because it’s the size of a small moon.

I cannot express how much all of the added information makes it so much funnier that Luke blew it up.

Luke destroys literally everything Palpatine built. He blows up the Death Star, which was referenced in universe as early as the second movie. He blew up the weapon of mass destruction twenty years in the making. And he blew it up pretty much directly after it’s first and only successful attack. It was operational for fifteen minutes, fifteen minutes that Palpatine had the thing he’d been building for longer than Luke has been alive, and Luke blows it up. First day retirement, but first hour retirement.

Luke convinces Darth Vader to turn back to the light side, a feat thought literally impossible by literally everybody. Sidious clearly doesn’t see Vader’s betrayal coming. Vader’s betrayal was not in his plans, nor was it something he was prepared for. Sidious is a powerful Force user with all four limbs while Vader is a man in the tin can Palpatine put him in. If Palpatine had seen Vader turning coming, he would not have allowed it to happen.

Luke literally should not even be alive. Palpatine almost definitely got Padme out of the way on purpose, and he almost certainly was trying for her unborn child as well (there was way too big of a risk that a cute liddol bebe would bring some humanity back to Anakin, and Palpatine did not want Anakin to have any humanity) Luke living is literally the first step in Palpatine’s ultimate downfall, especially once Vader finds out that Luke is his son. His very alive son. His son that is not dead, despite Palpatine claiming Anakin killed Padme. Implying that Anakin killed Padme and she posthumously gave birth. But, she didn’t give birth on Mustafar, which was the last place Anakin interacted with her. And once the mother dies, you have to get those fuckers out fast or they die too.

I imagine Darth Vader piecing all of this together is that meme with all the math floating around his head, because how could Padme have died by his hand and then given birth like two hours later?

Luke killing Palpatine is what ultimately leads to the dissolution of the Empire as an omnipotent entity. Luke killed the Empire. Luke spends a good amount of his adult life killing Empire remnants. We see that in the Mandalorian, since he’s so recognizable that Gideon immediately knows he’s fucked just by seeing an X-wing. We read it in Legends’ continuity, where Luke terrifies Imperials because he can walk into their changing room and stand in their for a minute and they don’t even notice.

Luke destroyed Palpatine’s life’s work. Everything Palpatine spent his whole life working towards, and Luke kills all of it. He blows up not one, but two Death Stars (he may not have pulled the trigger on the second Death Star, but without him, it never would have been destroyed). He convinces not one, but multiple Sith and Dark Jedi to return from the Dark Side. He is the only reason that Obi-Wan Kenobi, the biggest pain in Palpatine’s ass ever born, lives long enough to make it to the Death Star.

Palpatine went through so much effort. And just when he had finally won, when he finally had a weapon capable of destroying entire planets with a single blast, making it impossible for any planets or peoples to go against him, Luke shows up nineteen years late to the Jedi party with space Starbucks and a droid twice his age and almost singlehandedly destroys everything Palpatine ever had a hand in creating.

Luke manages to become even worse than Obi-Wan Kenobi, the ultimate thorn in the side of politicians, and Luke doesn’t even understand any politics. He wasn’t trained in diplomacy like Obi-Wan and Leia, no, he’s a farmboy who left home for the first time in his entire life, just this morning. And he is the one to destroy the Empire.

If they rewrote Star Wars and had it entirely from Palpatine’s perspective, Luke Skywalker would be his greatest foe. Luke Skywalker would be the final boss. Luke Skywalker is the antithesis of everything Palpatine believes in and he is the one character that Palpatine cannot predict. He isn’t as moldable as Anakin, he doesn’t respond to threats very well, he’s apparently impossible to kill via Force lightning (still the funniest scene of all times, the progression of Palpatine’s face falling and him looking like “what the fuck??? Is this kid rubber??? I’ve electrocuted him eight times???”), his unwavering faith in his father’s goodness makes Darth Vader want to be a better person, Luke Skywalker is the big bad of Palpatine’s story and—

There is nothing in this world that is funnier than someone’s biggest antagonist being Luke fucking Skywalker. Luke Skywalker, who saved the galaxy with the power of love and who shouldn’t exist, by Jedi rules and by Palpatine’s own attempts, and whose best friends are literally droids, which Palpatine canonically hates!

Everything about this is hilarious, this is the funniest thing in all of media, Palpatine loses absolutely everything to some backwater farmboy who fucking likes droids.

[magniloquent-raven]

"Oh, good, you are alive." Eddie says as soon as Tommy opens his front door. He pushes his way into the house without waiting for a response, and leaves Tommy blinking at empty space.

"...Sure, come on in," he mutters.

"Would it kill you to answer your phone some time?" Eddie's standing in the living room, hands on his hips, looking at Tommy like he's expecting something.

And Tommy's still lingering in his own doorway, suddenly very aware of how ripe his PJs have gotten. "It's my day off." It's a lame excuse and he knows it. He turns away to shut the door so he won't have to look Eddie in the eye.

"It's been, like, three weeks, man."

Tommy sighs quietly. "Yeah, look, it's just..."

"Is this the part where you tell me you both love me equally and it isn't my fault mommy and daddy are getting divorced." He's being flippant, but there's anger there. Tension in his voice. Tommy's not sure if it's on his own behalf or Evan's. Either would be fair, probably.

No. No, it isn't. It's not fair. He doesn't get to storm in here and judge Tommy's life choices. It's not like he's happy with himself about this, he didn't want to break things off. It just. Didn't work out.

"We don't, Eddie."

"What?"

Tommy folds his arms across his chest. "Love you equally. He needs you more than I do."

"What happened to me being allowed to have more than one friend?"

You know what happened, Tommy wants to snap, wants to be the kind of person who gets so angry he breaks, bleeds the tension out. He wants to untangle the knot that's been tightening in his chest for weeks.

Instead he hunches his shoulders. "Nothing, you have plenty of friends. A whole station of them." Tommy bites the inside of his lip so hard he tastes iron, and his eyes fall shut for a moment while he collects himself. "I was trying to make things easier for you."

Eddie narrows his eyes. "Yeah, nothing easier than getting ghosted. In fact, I love it when people I care about suddenly stop talking to me."

"You know what I meant. You have to take his side."

"Oh, I am. Breaking up with him like that was stupid, and he's really hurt."

Tommy barely contains his wince.

"But you were my friend before you were his boyfriend." Eddie's expression shifts, not quite softening. "I'm not here to defend Buck's honour, I'm here because my friend isn't making good choices and I'm worried about him."

He cried that night three weeks ago. Held off until he'd made it home and then bawled like a child, curled up in the dark and not bothering to wipe the snot from his nose. He hasn't cried since. Not when he found one of Evan's sweaters shoved between the cushions on his couch. Not when a date night reminder he forgot to delete from his phone dinged three days ago. Every time he wakes up to nothing but empty lock-screen he feels a little more hollow thinking about all the texts he used to get in the middle of the night.

But he hasn't been crying about it. Until now.

He's not sure what it is exactly. Something about Eddie refusing to let Tommy stonewall him. Something about all the things he's gone through alone never mattering to anyone. Not enough to warrant more than courtesy comfort.

"Woah, hey, was it something I said?"

Tommy shakes his head, and wipes his cheek with the heel of his hand. "It's been a weird few weeks."

It has, is the thing. He used to be good at being alone. But six months of borrowed time was enough for him to be in a lot deeper than he thought. He doesn't just miss Evan he misses being invited to his family dinners, and hearing about life with the 118.

"How 'bout I drink your beer while you tell me about it."

"...Okay."

[dreamwritesimagines]

Sunshine [6] - Middle of the Night

AN: My loves, thank you so so much for your wonderful support and lovely comments and HCs! ❤️ You’re amazing! ❤️

I hope you like this as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! 🥰

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

Summary: Drunk calls can lead to sweet moments.

Word Count: 3500 

CW: Violence, explicit language, mentions of sex, drinking, getting drunk, throwing up

Series Masterlist

To be completely honest, getting drunk was not in the plans tonight.

You were supposed to have one drink and go home but in your defense your best friend had tricked you with that two for one deal and now you were on your fifth cocktail, giggling at the story of her latest date.

“Listen, if you like him, I can totally normalize him living with his ex for you,” you told her and she made a face.

“How?”

“The rental market is in shambles.”

She let out a laugh, then shook her head.

“Nope.”

“Capitalism is fucking all of us—”

“We’re not doing that,” she said. “I mean how would you feel if Logan was living with his ex?”

“Logan hasn’t asked me out,” you pointed out. “Which is more reason to believe he doesn’t like me like that.”

“The guy maimed three people for you!”

“It could’ve been a friendly gesture!”

She threw her head back. “You’re not serious.”

You shrugged your shoulders, then downed your drink and motioned for another one.

“Listen,” you said, your mind all fuzzy. “Do I want Logan? Yes. Do I dream about us living happily ever after? Yes. Do I have very detailed fantasies about him breaking my bed? Also yes. But we don’t—”

“I’d just like to remind you that while you don’t have enough money to buy a new bed,” she interfered. “I will buy you a new one if you break it while the hot lumberjack is fucking your brains out.”

“Thank you, you’re a true friend,” you said solemnly as the waitress brought you your cocktail and you thanked her, then turned to Julie. “Jamie wants him to be terrible in bed so that I’ll snap out of this.”

“Doubt it,” she said. “The guy has been around since the mid-1800s, I’d assume he has some experience.”

You tilted your head, then gasped.

“Oh my God!” you said, reaching out to grab her arm over the table, almost knocking over her glass but she caught it before her drink could spill on the table. “What if Jamie is right?”

“I literally just said—”

“No, he was alive in mid-1800s!” you said, making her frown.

“Yeah?”

“What if he is like Edward Cullen and waiting for marriage?”

“That man is a whore!” Julie snapped, flailing her hands. “I’ve heard the way he speaks to you, he’s a slut—there’s no fucking way. He’ll break your bed any day now.”

You heaved a dramatic sigh. “To repeat, he hasn’t made a move.”

“To repeat, I think maiming three guys for you counts as making a move.”

You sucked on the straw of your cocktail, the happy warmth of alcohol buzzing in your head.

“So you think he likes me back?”

“I’m pretty sure he likes you back.”

 You grabbed some popcorn from the bowl on the table.

“Yeah well,” you said. “I guess we’ll see.”

“Why don’t you ask him out?”

You pulled your brows together. “I can’t do that Julie!”

“Why not?” she asked. “Is it the 1800s? Will people call you a harlot in the town square?”

“No!” you said. “No it’s just…”

“When was the last time you got laid?”

“That has nothing to with the situation,” you said and took a huge sip of your cocktail, making her grin.

“Remind me, when was it?”

“It’s been some time.”

“So why aren’t you climbing Logan like a tree?”

“I’m trying!” you whined and she motioned at you.

“Drink your cocktail. The whole thing.”

You nodded and downed your drink, your insides getting even warmer as you put your glass on the table. Julie grinned, and pushed your phone in your direction.

“Now call him.”

“Julie!”

“Just ask him out!” she said. “What’s the worst thing that could happen?”

“He could hang up on me.”

“He’s not gonna hang up on you,” she said. “Listen, that guy has been picking you up from work, calling you princess, saving you from creeps and sniffing your hair...”

“We’re not so sure about the last part.”

“Yes we are,” she said, pointing a finger at you. “Call him. You’ll be too much of a chicken to ask him out when you’re sober, so do it when you’re drunk.”

You let out a whine, then took the phone into your hands, heaving a sigh.

“What if I’m not his type?”

Julie rolled her eyes. “Somebody really needs to fuck you in front of a mirror.”

You scrunched up your face. “Oh I could never do that.”

“You should, it’s fun,” she said and nodded at the phone in your hand. “Call him.”

“But—”

“Do you want to fuck him, yes or no?”

“I want us to live happily ever after!” you said and paused for a second. “And yeah I want to fuck him. A lot. Day and night, multiple positions.”

“Call him.”

You took a deep breath, then nodded to yourself.

“I’ll be back,” you said and stood up from the chair, stumbling as the room spun around you but you grabbed the back of the chair and sat down again. “Shit, I’m too drunk.”

“It’s not that loud here,” she said. “You don’t have to go outside.”

“Okay,” you said and found Logan’s name, then touched it and took the phone to your ear, your heart pacing in your chest. You drummed your fingernails on the table, frowning to yourself, then lowered the phone.

“He’s not answering,” you said and ended the call, then turned to Julie. “Maybe he’s busy or something?”

“Yeah, didn’t you say they went on missions?”

“That’s what I heard,” you said and heaved a sigh. “Oh well. It was worth a shot.”

Julie shrugged her shoulders.

“Yeah,” she said and thought for a moment. “We should get shots.”

You gasped, and clapped your hands together.

“Yeah!” you said. “Yeah let’s get shots!”

                                                   *

Since Julie’s place was closer, you had split the taxi fee and dropped her off first before the taxi took you to your place. As it turned out, the shots were a bad idea because you had to rush to the bathroom to throw up as soon as you stepped foot into your apartment, but after you brushed your teeth and washed your face, you were still not sleepy.

On the contrary, you were pretty energetic.

…And hungry.

Starving, actually.

You hummed to yourself as you opened the fridge, then tilted your head. Nothing in your fridge looked good enough, so you grabbed your phone to order, but then scoffed when you saw the delivery fee.

“Absolutely not,” you murmured and grabbed your jacket to put it on, then grabbed your keys before walking out of the apartment. The buzz of the alcohol was still in your system despite you throwing up, so you hopped down the stairs and stepped out of the apartment.

Walking did help the nausea and your head spinning, and you were just passing by a shop when the fish tank caught your eye, making you stop in your steps.

Fish.

Interesting.

You stared at the shop window, nearly hypnotized by the lively colors and the fish swimming in the huge fish tank behind the glass but snapped out of it when your phone started vibrating in your pocket.

Logan.

“Oh fuck,” you muttered to yourself as you stared at the name flashing on the screen, your breath hitching. “Oh fuck, oh fuck…”

You took a deep breath, and touched the screen, then took the phone to your ears, your heart pacing in your chest.

“Hey!” you said, your voice going a pitch higher. “Um, what’s up?”

“Hi princess,” he said, his deep voice making you bite at your lip. “Didn’t hear you call, sorry about that.”

“No problem,” you said with a giggle. “Jesus, fish are pretty. Did you know they were pretty? I didn’t really pay attention to them but—oh my God. I’m so buying Theo fish.”

“What?”

“No seriously, he wanted it, and these things are tiny and it’s not that hard to take care of fish, is it? I mean it can’t be harder than taking care of orchids, Nik bought some for me and those things are goddamn suicidal, I tell you.”

“…Are you drunk?”

“Tipsy,” you corrected him as you fished your gloss out of your purse to apply it, staring at the window. “Tipsy-ish? This store is open right? Yeah, I see someone inside—”

“Hold on, you’re drunk and outside?” he asked. “Alone?”

“Yeah but it’s fine,” you said. “I stepped outside for some fresh air and I’m gonna get food but I got distracted by this aquarium—I’ll buy two fish and then put one of those fake trees and stuff into the tank—”

“Stay put, I’ll be there.”

“You don’t even know where I am though?” you said, looking around the street. “I’m close to my apartment but like I said, I need to eat something and Theo needs fish—”

“I’ll follow your scent, stay put,” he said and hung up, making you hum, and then put the phone into your pocket and entered the shop to smile at the owner.

“Good evening sir,” you said. “I need one orange and one white fish please. My son will name them Cheeto and Popcorn.”

                                               *

Logan found you as you were leaving the fast food place, holding the paper bag full of French fries tight with the small fish tank tucked in your other arm. You put the paper bag on the lid on the tank as the roar of the motorcycle made you lift your head and you looked over your shoulder.

Jesus Christ, he was too hot.

You could swear there were flying hearts circling your head as he got off the motorcycle and made his way to you, his herculean figure making you sigh before you looked up at his handsome face, your heartbeat getting faster.

“Hi sweetheart.”

You blinked up at him, still hugging the tank to your chest. “Hi. You’re very handsome.”

That made the corners of his mouth twitch into a small smile before he tilted his head.

“How much did you drink, again?”

“Um…” you bit inside your cheek, looking up at the dark sky to calculate in your head. “Six cocktails and a couple of shots. The shots were Julie’s idea though.”

“Right.”

“Hold this,” you said, pushing the tank into his arms before grabbing the paper bag to open it. “Ugh, I’m starving! Are you hungry?”

“Nope,” he said, still smiling. “Go ahead.”

You hummed a song to yourself as you dug into the fries, and cleared your throat, trying to focus.

“You didn’t have to drive all the way here,” you said. “My place isn’t far.”

“Mm hm, and you’re drunk.”

“Tipsy,” you corrected him as you chewed on the fries with him walking beside you. “I swear to God, potatoes are the best vegetable to grace this earth—what were you doing when I called? Am I keeping you from something?”

“Nope,” he said. “I was walking around the halls to make sure everything was alright, I didn’t take my phone with me. How about you? Fun night?”

“So much fun!” you said as you popped a couple of fries into your mouth. “Julie is seeing this guy—well, they slept together, and apparently he’s still living with his ex and it’s like a huge red flag for her, but seriously the rents are insane nowadays so I don’t—Logan, what are your thoughts on premarital sex?”

That made his head whip around and he stared at you while you calmly chewed on the fries, waiting for his answer.

“…Huge fan of it?” he said after a beat and you nodded your head.

“Same here,” you said as you started walking again. “Did you—um, so do you count as Victorian or Georgian? I always mix those two up for some reason.”

He pulled his brows together. “What?”

“I watch a lot of period movies, I think yearning is the most romantic thing in the entire world, that hand scene in Pride and Prejudice changed me as a person,” you said as you reached into the paper bag to pull out more fries. “Um, I have a lot of questions for you and I know you’re this cool and mysterious guy so you can just say yes or no.”

He stifled a laugh. “Sure thing, hit me.”

“Did anyone give you their handkerchief?”

“No.”

You gasped. “No one gave you their handkerchief? What a bunch of assholes!”

“I had other priorities in mind during those times, sweetheart.”

“Yearning is a priority, Logan,” you said wistfully. “Next question, were you ever accidentally engaged?”

“How does one get accidentally engaged?”

“People see you talking to each other without a chaperone.”

“What?” he asked with a grimace. “I don’t—no.”

“No wonder why you like modern times better, now that I think about it,” you murmured as you looked into the bag, then heaved a sigh when you saw only a couple of fries in it. You grabbed them and threw them into your mouth, then scrunched up the paper bag to throw it into the nearest trash can. “Do you like Cheeto and Popcorn?”

Logan pulled his brows together. “Come again?”

“The fish!” you pointed at the small fish tank he was holding in one hand and he looked down at it, then chuckled.

“Right,” he said. “They look nice, sweetheart.”

“Right? Theo will be very happy, and—is there any rules against pets at the school? Because he will want to take them there.”

“We can bend the rules a little for him, it’s fine,” he said, making you smile at him brightly.

“Aw thank you!” you said as you licked your lips, then looked around before turning to Logan. “Logan?”

His eyes held a soft light in them. “Hm?”

“Can I see your claws?”

He frowned slightly but unsheathed his claws. “Why? I don’t see any threats, do you—”

He was cut off when you held onto his arm to lift his hand a little to see the blur reflection of your face on the metal, then dabbed at your lip gloss that had smudged a little with the tip of your finger. You could feel Logan staring at you so you lifted your gaze for a moment.

“What?”

“…You—you know I’ve hurt a lot of people with them, right?”

“And now you’re helping me fix my makeup with them,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “Things can be of multiuse.”

He didn’t comment on it as you rubbed your lips together, then dropped his hand to beam at him. “Thanks!”

“No problem,” he managed to say with a small chuckle. “You are something else, you know that?”

“I’m taking that as a compliment,” you said happily but before you could thank him again, you noticed two guys staring at him, no doubt because of the claws. You could feel the sudden rush of anger sparking to life as you narrowed your eyes at them.

“What?” you snapped, making them snap out of the haze, exchanging glances. Logan raised his brows, his lips twitching as if he was amused. “What are you looking at?”

“Nothing,” one of them said. “Just claws—”

“Yeah, so?” you asked him as you took a step towards him but Logan put his hand over the back of your neck, gently pulling you back, looking like he was trying his hardest to keep a straight face and not burst into laughter as the guy stepped back. “What, do you wanna fight or something?”

“…No?”

“Then fucking act like it, how about that?”

“Your girl is aggressive, bro.”

“That she is,” Logan said, rubbing his thumb over the back of your neck. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

“It’s rude to stare, okay?” you told them over your shoulder as you started walking beside Logan. “No seriously like, didn’t your mom teach you anything? Call her, let’s see what she’ll say about you staring at strangers!”

Logan pursed his lips together to control the chuckle vibrating in his chest before he cleared his throat.

“Unbelievable,” you grumbled. “No seriously, even Theo knows not to stare at people and he still believes in Santa! That’s no excuse, what the fuck was that? You should’ve let me kick his ass!”

“I think you scared them off enough.”

“Good!”

“Do you always look for fights when you’re drunk?”

“I’m tipsy and I have zero tolerance for disrespect, Logan,” you pointed out. “I mean honestly, who raised these boys?”

Logan bit back a smile, then nodded in the direction of your building.

“Come on,” he said and you pulled out your keys, but then dropped them with a gasp. Logan picked them up, then opened the building’s door for you.

“It’s kind of like a handkerchief situation when you think about it,” you said happily as you climbed the stairs. If you weren’t so drunk, you would’ve noticed earlier that he was in fact in your building but it only dawned on you when you stopped in front of your apartment, then held your breath.

“Logan?” you asked, your heart beating faster at the possibility. “Would you like to come in?”

“I’ll just make sure you actually go to bed and not wander off to the street completely drunk,” he told you and you pouted your lips as he opened your door for you.

Stepping into your apartment, you yawned and looked over your shoulder as he closed the door behind him, then held up the fish tank.

“Where do you want to put it?”

“The kitchen is fine,” you said, pointing at the kitchen and he made his way to the kitchen while you swayed on your steps, making your way to your bedroom to fling yourself on the bed, kicking off your shoes. You heard the sound of water running before the footsteps came closer and you sat up in the bed, tucking your legs under you. Logan entered your bedroom, his hazel gaze focusing on you for a moment before he shook his head slightly and handed you the huge glass of water.

“Drink it.”

“Oh I’m not thirsty.”

“Drink it,” he repeated and you heaved a sigh, then took a sip of it before lowering the glass to your lap.

“I’m pretty sure those cocktails will knock you out but off the chance that you wake up still drunk, I need you to promise me—” Logan started but a tiny lint on the skirt of your dress caught your attention, making you distracted. You pulled at it with a frown but felt Logan tilt your chin up so that you could look up at him.

“Eyes on me princess, look at me.”

You could feel the warmth spreading through you as your eyes met his, pleasant goosebumps rising on your arms as you blinked up at him in adoration.

“Your voice is very deep,” you murmured and he smiled slightly.

“Did you hear a word I said?”

You thought for a moment, then shook your head.

“Don’t wander off to the street if you wake up in the middle of the night,” he said. “I need to get back to the institute but—”

“Or you could stay?” you asked, your voice soft in the quiet, dimly lit room and a shadow moved behind his hazel gaze, making your heart skip a beat. You knew he knew what you meant, and hope filled your system, making you feel nearly lightheaded at the possibility of him feeling half of the fire running through your veins.

You could swear there was some sort of invisible lighting crackling between you, making your breath catch in your throat as he traced your bottom lip with his thumb, making your eyes flutter close for a second before you looked up at him again.

“Logan…”

“That is not happening when you’re drunk, sweetheart,” he said, his voice low and you pulled your brows together.

“It could.”

“It won’t.”

 You bit inside your cheek, blinking up at him and he frowned as if trying to pull himself together. His knuckles brushed over your cheekbone softly before he withdrew his hand, then leaned down to press his lips to the top of your head, making you heave a sigh.

“Call me when you wake up tomorrow,” he said before he pulled back, then walked out of the room.

You heard the front door open, then close and you let out a whine, then let yourself fall back on the bed, pressing your fingertips on your lips. A giggle you couldn’t stop climbed up your throat and you lowered your hand, then took off your dress to throw it to somewhere in the room before grabbing the covers to pull them over your head, a huge smile curling your lips as you closed your eyes, sleep pulling you into its warmth.

7 - Heat Wave

[81folklore]

heaven - PIASTRI - final part

pairings: oscar piastri x private!reader (fc: gracie abrams + pinterest)

summary: on the 2 year anniversary of oscars first win in f1, everyone’s favorite couple has a surprise

type: social media au (smau)

note: well this is it!! the final part to heaven!! this ending has always been the plan and im so pleased i can finally post it, this win has been a longgg time coming and i am super stoked for oscar!!! obviously not the best race (esp for mclaren fans) but we got through it and oscar won!!!! super duper proud of my mclaren boys and i cant wait to see many more 1-2 with them!!

i honestly cant believe this is the last part to this series, this was one of the first fics i ever posted and its crazy how far its come!! to this day i get notifs that people have found the first part to this series and it blows my mind how big this has gotten. i know ive been inactive for a long time but i hope by finally finishing this fic i will find love for creating fics again!!!! love u all��

heaven masterlist masterlist

set 2026

youruser

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 11,629 others

two years ago my best friend asked me to marry him, i said yes immediately. how could i say no to spending the rest of my life with someone i love so deeply?

today marks 6 months of him being my husband and i feel so incredibly blessed to be able to call him that, to be able to say that someone i love, loves me back just as much

but today is also the anniversary of my boys first win, which seems crazy now that he has many more under his belt but its true, its been two years since that crazy day in hungary and one that changed us forever

i have grown so much in the time we have been together and im so pleased i was able to do it with you, osc. i love you forever and always!

tagged oscarpiastri

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oscarpiastri my favorite forever🤍

oscarpiastri marrying you was the best decision i have ever made

youruser my boy🌟🌟

comments on this post have been limited

oscarpiastri

liked by youruser, logansargeant and 1,382,003 others

i cant believe i get to call this gorgeous girl my wife, and i’ll be able to do so for the rest of our lives

you had never shone as brightly as on our wedding day, however youve continued to shine ever so bright since and i hope it never goes away, seeing you happy and content makes me feel like the luckiest man alive

thank you for saying yes all those years ago and thank you for trusting me with your heart, ill love you forever and always

your osc x

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youruser i love you so much osc

youruser you mean the world to me

landonorris congrats mate x

logansargeant i miss you guys :(

youruser we miss you too logie!!! we’ll be home soon and we will take you to dinner!!

logansargeant oscarpiastri promise?

oscarpiastri we promise

georgerussell63 happy for you both!

frederikvestiofficial come back soon i think logans withering away

oscarpiastri he’ll be fine for a few more days🙄

logansargeant nu huh!! i cant last much longer☹️

user66 oh my god she looks gorgeous 🥹🥹

oscarpiastri she is

user72 YOUR OSC😭😭😭😭

user6 im never getting over them☹️

user91 THEYRE MARRIED☹️☹️😭😭

user10 remember when yn said they werent getting married yet because they still had so much growing to do,, look at them now☹️

user47 i feel like everyones being too calm, WE DIDNT EVEN KNOW THEY WERE ENGAGED?!?!!?!

user64 LIKE WHY ARE WE NOT MORE SHOCKED

user22 bcs they are written in the stars and we all knew this was going to happen!!! liked by youruser

user30 yn with all the little babes oh i cant do this🥹🥹 liked by oscarpiastri

oscarpiastri

liked by youruser, lewishamilton and 1,392,027 others

17.01.2026

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lewishamilton so happy for you mate, it was a gorgeous ceremony💜

logansargeant my favorite people in the whole world

oscarpiastri we love you

logansargeant 🥹🥹 (i love you guys too)

youruser my boy forever and ever and ever

oscarpiastri 🤍🤍

landonorris you guysss😕😕

youruser love you lan!!!!

youruser

liked by oscarpiastri, yourmum 11,483 others

a story told in many parts💐

comments on this post have been limited

pinned youruser to osc, my best friend, my love, my husband i will love you until the end of time. i will hold your hand through everything and more, until death do us part x

youruser added to their story

story song added heaven by niall horan text reads: my 🏠

seen by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 12,472 others

replies

user72 OH MY FUCKING GODDDDD

user19 I CANNOT DEAL WITH YOU TWO 😔😔😔😔

user63 ur literally perfect for eachother wtfwtfwtf

user90 I FEEL SICK THIS IS SO CUTE

user6 oscar is so sweet🥹🥹

youruser the sweetest!!!!

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

God ever since reading A Gilded Cage I cant get the thought out of my head of a part 2 where Reader doesn't see Jason for a few days after the revelation. Like maybe he thinks he's being kind and giving us some time to process, maybe he's on his angst again, or maybe some outside factor has taken his attention so the only time he's able to visit is while we're asleep.

And the whole night of the reveal feels like a fever dream when we wake up but there's a blanket draped over us and a fuzzy little kitten purring up a storm on our chest (in my heart his name is Bean (short for Toebean)), so we're at least kind of sure it happened. But as the time passes with no sign of Jason our certainty begins to wane and until we finally get fed up and write on the notepad the first thing we've asked for since that night: "You."

Or something like that idek okay I've been over here clawing at my walls frothing at the mouth I never really even liked ak!Jason before reading your stuff and now I'm feral for him and its all your fault and I'm not even mad about it

A Glimmering Collar

AKA Part Two of this series. Ahh, nonnie, you literally cooked with this. I love when my fics inspire people enough to keep thinking on them! Seriously, ty for dropping these ideas in my inbox cause I had nothing going on in my brain for a part two initially. Hope you enjoy!

~2.6k words

You wake up to something tickling your nose. Your body feels heavy, your mind even more so. Nothing in you is ready to open your eyes, to face the fact that last night could all have been a dream. That he isn't– that was just a dream.

Something soft flicks your nose again, and you force your eyes open. You blink hard once. Then twice. It's a kitten. It's tiny, and it's sitting by your face. Every few seconds, its tail sways and brushes your nose.

Oh. You sit up slowly, trying not to frighten the small thing. It looks at you contently over its shoulder and meows. The kitten stretches as you stare at it, then plops itself directly on the blanket resting over your lap.

Huh. There's a blanket you definitely don't remember grabbing sprawled over your legs. You carefully reach down to pet the kitten's head. Your heart melts a little when it nuzzles your fingers and purrs.

You look around the room slowly. Nothing else looks different. The notepad is still in place, but the kitten and blanket all point to one thing. Last night was real. Jason is alive. Jason is the Arkham Knight.

You're trying to wrap your brain around that when the door flies open, nearly making you jump out of your skin.

"Good morning!!" A flurry of voice call from the doorway. Your eyes widen as three brightly dressed people strut their way into your apartment, "Are you ready for your shopping trip, hun?"

"My– excuse me?" You stumble out, tucking the kitten to your chest as you stand.

They giggle, and one of them steps forward, "Your shopping trip, sweetie! And spa day, of course. Oh, ha, we haven't even been introduced, have we? I'm Krystal with a K, she's Destini with an i and he's Robbi also with an i."

Robbi huffs and walks up to you to pet your kitten, "Why can't you ever introduce Destini second? She can be Destini also with an i, ya know."

The other girl walks up to you as well and picks affectionately at your clothes, "Because it's alphabetical that way, Robbi. Now you better go get dressed, we have brunch reservations and mimosa plans!"

"I– sorry? What?" You ask, eyes darting between the three of them. Whatever this is, you can't keep up. You've barely processed Jason kidnapped you, and now you're supposed to go get a massage and drinks?

"The boss wants you to go out," a flat voice cuts in. You're the only one that stiffens at the sight of two large men stepping through the door.

Krystal speaks up, "We're here to make sure you have a good time! And Mack and John are here to keep us safe!"

"Mack and John," You echo weakly.

"Your body guards, silly," Destini chirps, ushering you to your room. She plucks the kitten from your hands, "Now get dressed! Wear something nice!"

You stare at the door as she shuts it. What just happened? You hear them chattering happily in the kitchen, idly talking about pregaming your shopping trip.

Your whole mind is a mess, and you sluggishly get ready, thoughts whirling. You've barely talked to soul since you were kidnapped, and now you have five new names to remember, a kitten, and a day out.

You're not exactly sure if you should be unsettled or grateful at how quickly Jason worked to get you what you asked for. By the time you've opened your bedroom door, Krystal, Destini and Robbi are passing around a flask, and playfully trying to get your 'bodyguards' to drink it.

You wonder what they must think of all this. Who they think you are. You're struck with the realization that Jason must be paying them to entertain you today.

You don't get to linger on the thought before Robbi hooked his arm with yours, dragging you towards the door, "Let's gooo, the brunch place we're going to does the best pineapple mimosas. Or cherry, if that's your thing."

"Wait," Mack– or John, you're not exactly sure which one is which– stops you, "Boss wants you to wear this."

The girls and Robbi coo in awe when Mack opens a box, revealing a glittery, jaw-dropping choker. You waver at the sight of it. It's not that it doesn't match what you're wearing. You'd dressed up like Destini suggested, but it feels like some kind of trap.

You reluctantly pick up the necklace, eyeing how it catches the light, "Is it– are sure it's safe to wear this out?" Safety isn't really what you're concerned about at the moment.

You're more worried about the crushing weight that this means more than you understand.

John nods once, "There won't be any problems."

Krystal happily plucks the necklace from your fingers, and before you have time to argue, she drapes the necklace around your throat. "It's beautiful, hun. Just like you. Let's go get you something to eat," her voice is soft, measured, and full of so much understanding it makes you want to cry.

You don't know much they know, but when she hooks her arm with yours to guide you out the door, you have a feeling there's more awareness than their bubbly attitudes let on.

The day ends up being wonderful. Being around people, out under the sun (the sun Gotham does get), was rejuvenating. You had fun, joked, smiled, and for a day, it was almost like you didn't have a prison cell to go back to.

The food was delicious, the spa relaxing, and you didn't have to carry back a single bag. Krystal had flashed a black card at every payment, every place ever could want to shop at, reassuring you it's all been taken care of.

But the time you've collapsed on the couch, exhausted but content, the uneasy feelings from this morning are gone.

You settle on the cushions to wait for Jason. To thank him for listening or to yell at him for still keeping you here, you're not exactly sure yet.

But he doesn't come, you fall asleep in your expensive necklace and pretty clothes with one hand petting your kitten. He doesn't come the next day either, at least not while you're awake, but Krystal, Destini, and Robbi do.

Your friends, the people being paid to entertain you are nice, perfect even. They're exactly what you would have asked for.

Your kitten is perfect too, it cuddles with you at night and nuzzles under your chin after you're left alone, when the unease finds its way back to you.

It's been days since you've seen him. It's starting to feel like a lifetime. You know he comes back after you fall asleep, he moves things. You think it's his way of showing that he listened, that he came back because you asked.

The notepad, the one you haven't written on since that night, shifts closer to you on the glass table if you sleep on the couch.

The glimmering choker gets pulled out of the drawer every time you try to put it away. Your kitten has a growing collection of toys and things to climb on.

It's obvious he's visiting, so why won't he let you see him? Day five of dancing around each other breaks you. You want to see him, want to talk to him, and understand. You want Jason.

Your hand shakes a little, when you go to write on the notepad, and when you wake up the next morning, the paper is blank again.

You wait. You wait some more. All day you wait for him. No one else comes. It's strangely quiet, with just you and your kitten. You've just about given up, collapsed in your bed, when the glowing whites of his helmet catch your attention.

You sit up quickly and throw your legs off the bed as you stare into the doorway, "You came."

"Did you mean it," he asks, any emotion he's feeling hidden by the aggravating modulator.

"Mean what," You question, standing off the bed to walk closer to him, "Will you take the mask off?"

He doesn't move for a moment, just takes in the sight of you. The silence that drags almost makes you regret the question, but he carefully pulls off his helmet, "What you wrote. That you wanted me."

"I– yeah, Jason. I haven't– it's been days since I saw you," You only notice mid sentence that his hand is reaching for your face, it makes your voice waver. "You never answered any of my questions," You finish weakly.

His hand stills and he drops it, "Questions. That's what you wanted?"

You nod a little, searching his face for any hint of what he's feeling, but he gives nothing away.

He sighs softly, and looks away, adjusting his helmet under his arm. You think he might look disappointed, "I can't give you the answers you're looking for."

"Why not," You question softly, worried to push him away.

Jason turns his focus back to you, "I just need you to stay here. Please," he sighs out your name, and his hand twitches as if to touch you, "Don't fight me on this."

"That's not fair," You mumble, "Why am I here, Jason? You know I would have listened if you came to talk to me instead of– this."

Silence falls again, and he steps past you into your room. He sets his helmet on your dresser and picks up the choker resting on the wooden surface, "I wish you would wear this. I picked it out for you."

"Jason," You start, tracking his movements.

"I know," he cuts you off, "but I told you, you don't need to understand anything." You stiffen when he steps back towards you and guides you to turn around.

The air leaves your lungs as his gloves brush over your skin. He sets the necklace around your throat, and even after it rests heavy against your skin, his touch lingers.

"You just need to stay here. It's safe. I've given you everything you've asked for, and everything you haven't," Jason says softly, stepping out from behind you. His gaze lingers on your neck for a moment, and the stifling, unexplainable feeling sets back into your gut.

Your words stick in your throat. There's a sense of danger, one that doesn't make sense. Jason wouldn't hurt you. Not the Jason you know. But is this the Jason you know? The thought makes you want to tear the choker from your skin and throw it at him.

"It feels like a collar," You say quietly, and your breath hitches when his gaze snaps go yours, "I mean, it's pretty. Really. But, it feels– like it's more," You stumble out.

He nods slowly, and he doesn't stop himself from touching you this time. His fingers trace the choker, linger over your collarbones, brush along your pulse, "Maybe it is."

You blink at him, every thought flying from your brain, "What?"

He hums softly, hooking a finger under the shiny jewels to draw you closer, "Does that scare you? Knowing that you can't leave? Knowing that no matter how pretty these are, it's just another way to keep you?"

"You wouldn't hurt me," you say instead, it sounds like you believe it, but you're not sure if you're trying to convince yourself or him.

"I don't want to," He admits, fingers leaving your throat to trail up your jaw, "but I probably could."

"I don't believe that. I remember–" He tuts, tapping your cheek. Your heart drops when you realize he's mirroring where his own brand is.

"I'm not what you remember," he says firmly, before whispering your name, "I'm not that Jason. Not really."

"Then who are you," You ask, even though you don't want to know the answer. You want to pretend he's still something you know.

His eyes dart over your face, then back down to the necklace, "I'm still Jason. But I'm also the Arkham Knight."

"What does that mean," You push, reach up to grab his wrist, demanding his attention, demanding real answers.

"It means that you stay. It means that I give you what you want. Everything and anything except leaving," he says, voice lowering to something kinder, gentler, "it'll make sense eventually. You'll be happy here. Safe."

"Will that make you happy?" You ask, fingers tightening on his wrist. Half of you wants to pull him away, stop him from tracing patterns over your cheek, but the other part of you wants to press his hand closer.

Something flicks in his eyes at your words, "Yes."

"Will it keep you safe?" You murmur, eyes locked on his.

He doesn't answer, clenching and unclenching his jaw for a moment, "Safety is an option I don't have."

"It could be, if you wanted it," You say, dropping his wrist. It must be true. Even with all the secrets he's keeping, his evasive disappearing act, he could take off the armor. Leave behind the new symbol engraved over his chest.

He laughs a little and swipes his thumb under your eye, "I'm glad that you don't understand. It's good, that they didn't twist you into something unrecognizable."

"Understand?" You prompt, unsettled by his laughter.

"That they need to pay. All of them do," he smiles a little, it's a mockery of the one you remember. Jason traces the choker one last time before stepping back.

"You're leaving," You say, not a question, a statement of fact. He's leaving, without explaining anything again.

"I am," he affirms, moving to grab his helmet.

"I want you to stay," You breathe out and he freezes in place.

He exhales softly and faces you again, "You don't know what you're asking."

"I do. I want you to stay," You repeat, reaching out to push his helmet back towards the dresser.

"And then what?" He asks lowly, a warning, "What do you expect to happen?"

It makes you waver, "I– I don't know. But it's what I want."

It's another long moment of nothing before he answers, gesturing towards the bed, "Go to sleep."

"You'll stay?"

He nods at your question, unceremoniously dragging the chair from your desk to your bedside.

"Is that going to be comfortable–" You begin, settling yourself in the bed.

"You're overthinking it," he mumbles, waving at you to lay down. You do, watching as your kitten jumps into his lap, curling up like this is something that happens all the time. (You have the feeling it is) "Have you named him," he asks quietly.

"The kitten? Mm, no. Wanted you to," You say softly, carefully not to unsettle either of them.

"I wouldn't be good at it," Jason protests, eyes flicking between you and the kitten.

"I don't mind," You murmur, "anything's better than 'kitten'."

He pauses, so quiet and still you think he won't answer, "Bean," he mumbles, reluctant as the newly appointed Bean cuddles into his armor.

You smile, "Bean's a good name."

He doesn't answer, seemingly engrossed with watching the kitten.

You take him in for another moment, memorizing his face before closing your eyes. It's not an accident that you leave your palm open and face up by the side of the bed.

There's no more pleasantries exchanged, no sweet goodnights or the gentle touches against your face you've grown used to. But just as you finally start to drift off, as darkness finally draws you to rest, a warm, rough hand weaves itself into yours and squeezes.

Part Three

[lesbianrobin]

ok so here is my pitch for my dream buddie catalyst:

eddie and maddie are trapped in some sort of likely-fatal time sensitive situation together (drowning related probably because it's Them) (have they overused it yes is it still thematically appropriate YES) where one person could potentially sacrifice themselves for the other to survive. i want eddie and maddie using their combined experience and ingenuity to survive together and discussing who should be prioritized which means they talk about parenthood and how they both feel they've failed their children by "running," how their lives have been so defined by trauma and they don't want to scar their children any further by leaving them again. of course they're doing everything they can to get out together, but as the situation deteriorates throughout the episode(s) (c'mon something like this could be at LEAST a two-parter) they can't help returning periodically to the world's most morbid debate.

i want buck and chim on the outside both going out of their goddamn minds. they know that eddie and maddie are stuck (wherever), know that they're probably alive, but aren't sure in what condition and if they'll stay that way. rescue operations begin as everybody walks on eggshells around buck and tries to comfort chim, who wants absolutely none of it. time is running out.

eddie says that he couldn't possibly let maddie sacrifice herself for him and look buck and chim in the eye afterwards. maddie says that she couldn't do that either. she says that at least jee-yun would still have her father, and eddie says that christopher would still have buck. maddie says that of course none of them would just abandon christopher if something were to happen to him but—

and eddie cuts her off and says it's in my will. if i die, christopher will have buck. buck will have christopher.

they just look at each other for a weighted moment. maddie makes a decision. she says ...i meant it, you know. that i couldn't let you die down here (wherever here is i don't KNOW okay i'm not here to think up convoluted emergencies i'm here for drama) and look my baby brother in the eye knowing that i could have changed it. eddie says i know, okay, but it's different, you're his sister, and maddie says, yeah, but you're his... and she pauses. and eddie says what? best friend? partner? that doesn't—

and maddie says you're his. eddie, you're his.

and eddie... i want to see something slot into place. i want to watch him understand as maddie spills everything she's been suspecting since the day that buck came out to her and maybe since before she and eddie even met. maddie says you know, when i first came to california, you were all he talked about? you're still all he talks about. you and christopher. you're his. i couldn't... eddie, you're out of your mind if you really don't think that losing you would break him just as much as losing me. he would forgive us both, because he's buck, but i couldn't... i'm no saint, eddie, i want to survive. i don't want my daughter to grow up without me. but i can't do that to him. i don't know if he'd survive it. even if he did, the guilt would eat me alive.

meanwhile. buck is barely holding on to his sanity as rescue efforts are underway and time is running out. chimney is keeping it together as best he can but there isn't much that he and buck can do. he can't let himself fall apart because buck is already a stiff breeze away from clawing his own skin off and somebody has to keep their cool. something goes wrong—suddenly, their short amount of time has gotten shorter, and they may only have enough of a window to get one out before it's too late for the other. buck, who has been ranting and arguing and screaming this whole time... is silent. he is silent, and he stares straight ahead at nothing in particular, and we know that no matter which way the scales tip, his soul will be destroyed all the same.

eddie regards maddie for a moment. grief, heartbreak, anger, all flicker over him, but what settles is determination. he says that neither of them are going to leave again. that they'll survive together, or not at all, or leave it to the universe to decide.

of course they make it out. by the skin of their teeth, they make it out, working together, clawing their way back to life and love and possibility. maddie makes it out first, and eddie sees buck as she falls into chim's waiting arms. he watches as buck sees his sister, and reaches out to take her hand with trembling fingers and white knuckles, but there is no relief, no happiness in his red-rimmed eyes. just a deep, unspeakable grief, until his eyes slide past maddie and meet eddie's.

finally: relief. and then he is in buck's arms, a perfect parallel to chim and maddie, and we see eddie's face over buck's shoulder, and we know. he is in love, and buck is in love, and eddie knows, and he sinks into his partner's embrace with joy and acceptance.

after that, who knows? maybe a grand confession. a moment of quiet understanding. a passionate post-rescue kiss. a chaste, tender kiss in some kitchen or other. maybe eddie panics later, or maybe he's found peace for once. maybe buck has realized something and he makes the first move. maybe it happens immediately. maybe it takes a while, takes discussions about how it'll affect work and christopher and whether it's worth risking all that they have for all that they want.

and maybe they'll ask whether it's even a risk at all.

[loveinhawkins]

”How do you do it?” Eddie asks.

The question slips out far too late at night, anxiety thrumming in his chest—he’s not escaped the feeling ever since the boathouse, when he simply couldn’t sleep, felt like a fox just waiting for hound dogs to get his scent, ready to run—

Steve doesn’t need him to explain further, as if he can somehow hear a whole lot of what Eddie’s not saying: like when he picked up the phone an hour ago and hadn’t even let Eddie tie himself in knots, had just said, so easily, “I’ll come get you,” like it wasn’t a huge inconvenience, like he’d been the one to call Eddie instead.

He’s considering Eddie from where he lies in bed, leaning on his elbow, and he’s still got the covers off pointedly—and that’s a big thing, Eddie thinks, a big thing he doesn’t know what to do with, because they’ve not talked, not really, not got much beyond the dizzying relief of still being alive.

But even fraught with profound lack of sleep, Eddie doesn’t think he’s misreading the look in Steve’s eyes.

I know, those eyes say, illuminated by the warm light of the bedside lamp. It’s okay, there’s no rush. I’m right here.

Eddie’s never seen that kind of look before. Not towards him.

“Sometimes Robin sleeps over,” Steve says thoughtfully. “And sometimes the kids are around, and they’re so annoying and I get, like, three hours, tops.” He says it with all the fondness in the world. “And sometimes I’m alone, and it’s fine.”

“What about the other times?” Eddie can’t help but whisper.

If it were a reasonable hour maybe he wouldn’t dare to ask at all, but exhaustion’s worn down the filter in his head—at this point it’s practically see-through.

Steve shrugs. “Yeah, they’re shit,” he says with such honesty that Eddie nearly asks it again, how do you do it?

“But then it’s, like, a new day,” Steve says slowly, like he’s carefully weighing up what to say, “and I can… drive.” The pause tells Eddie he means go to someone. “Or, like… call, if it’s really bad.”

Hey, I’m glad you called, man, Steve had said when Eddie got into his car earlier, like they were just going to the movies or something normal—like Eddie wasn’t shaking, forehead pressed against the passenger window.

Eddie feels his throat close up a little. Tries to sniff as quietly as possible.

“Eddie,” Steve says patiently. He moves back in the bed. Gives Eddie space. “C’mere.”

Steve keeps the lamp on which helps; this isn’t the boathouse, Eddie thinks, and the slightest bit of tension leaves his body. Even that feels like a miracle.

He’s just resigning himself to lying there, staring up at the ceiling so at least Steve can get some rest, when Steve turns and catches his eye, still wide awake.

“Tell me about The Lord of the Rings,” Steve says.

The tightness in Eddie’s chest loosens; he laughs in surprise. “What?”

“You heard me.”

Eddie turns so he’s facing Steve properly, attempts a casual shrug, knowing already that it’ll be too rigid. “I don’t know, man. We, uh. We kinda lived through Mordor already.”

His hand twists in the bedsheets, knuckles turning white.

I don’t know how to do this. I’ve never had…

Steve’s hand reaches across, eases Eddie’s grip on the sheets, like he’s saying, neither did I. Just give it a shot.

“The shire, then,” Steve says.

Eddie smiles. “Steve Harrington,” he says, suddenly finding enough lightness to tease; he’s missed it. “Are you asking me for a bedtime story?”

“Nope,” Steve says. “We’re just gonna lie here and talk.”

And they do.

Steve asks questions which works out for the best—Eddie can’t quite remember the last time he read the books. To tell the truth, anything that happened before March often has a kind of fog over it.

He’s sure he’s dropped at least a couple of plot points somewhere along the way, but Steve never once complains that he’s not making sense, just gently prompts Eddie until… until…

“Mm, I know what you’re doing,” Eddie mumbles through a yawn that catches him unawares.

“Oh, do you now?” Steve says, sounding smug. God, Eddie loves him. “Is it working?”

“Maybe.” Eddie says. His eyelids are heavy. “Um.” He yawns again. “Where… where was I?”

“Don’t worry about it, man,” Steve says. It sounds like he’s smiling—Eddie would check, but it’s suddenly impossible to keep his eyes open.

It’s okay, he thinks hazily, melting into sleep without even thinking about it. He can ask Steve in the morning.

There’s no rush.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Broken Mind, Broken Soul

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.6k

Warnings: heavy angst, abuse scars, post-prison!spencer, parent/domestic violence (explicit), pretending to be fine when you're not, smut (maybe considered CNC? i'm not sure but better but that on here)

Summary: Spencer is back from prison so he’s trying to pick up the pieces and get back into his old life. Something is off about you but he respects your boundaries until he sees what you’ve been hiding from him.

Square Filled: cold-blooded torture for @badthingshappenbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Spencer is home. He’s home and everything is going to go back to the way it was. He’s not going to find you. He’s not going to hurt you anymore. You want to be happy that your boyfriend is out of prison after nearly three months of being locked up for a crime he didn’t do. He suffered in there and you couldn’t do anything about it. He’s home now, and everyone is so happy to see him.

You stare at your reflection in the mirror and try not to break down in tears. This day is for Spencer. He’s home. You can take a break from your personal shit to give him a proper welcome home. If you can do that, you might make it out of this alive. You shake your head and plaster a smile on your face, one that looks like you’re not dying inside.

You leave the bathroom in search of your boyfriend who is spending time outside away from everyone. Spencer must have gone through hell inside the four walls of the prison so it’s a bit overwhelming to be back to his normal life. Everyone must understand that because they’re inside having a good time and giving Spencer his space.

You push past everyone and walk over to Henry’s small playground. Spencer is swinging lightly on the swings and you stand by him, waiting for him to look at you. When he does, you can see how empty they are. God, Spencer, what happened to you? You hope your eyes aren’t as empty as his. You’re really trying hard to put on a brave face but you’re not sure how much longer you can do this.

“Hey,” you say softly.

“Hey, yourself.” You walk around the other swing and sway in sync with Spencer. “Tell me what you’ve been up to since I was gone?”

You were and are afraid of this question. You’ve been preparing yourself for this question since hearing he was coming back but you never knew how to answer it. One wrong word and he’ll know exactly what you’ve been up to.

“You know, working cases like normal. We helped a lot of people but it wasn’t the same without you. I just tried to get through the day every day.”

“Yeah, I get it,” he sighs.

He believes you. He has no reason not to. Spencer looks at you to see a faraway look in your eyes. Maybe it’s just him but something might not be right. The look is gone in a split second and you’re back to pretending. Maybe it’s just him.

“Look, I know Rosis wanted to throw you this party but want to go home?”

“Yeah, I do,” he nods.

You two say your goodbyes to everyone before heading home. The drive is silent like you two don’t know how to talk to each other anymore. Sure, it could be the fact that Spencer has been in prison this whole time but he suspects something else happened. You two didn’t talk much but he doesn’t know what could be bothering you.

It’s been nearly three months without you in his bed, and he can’t help himself when he sees you in his bed. It’s been three months since he’s touched you so he walks over to you and crawls up your body. You want to enjoy this. You want to be here for him but you’re stuck inside your own head. You don’t dare let him know what you’re thinking so maybe if you go along with it, you can slip further into the facade you’re putting up.

You two kiss but he’s so wound up that he doesn’t register that you’re not as into it as he is. You’re here for him, that’s all that matters. You’re okay with this even if your body is telling you no. He reaches for your shirt but you’re quick to grab his hands to stop him.

“Keep the shirt on.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just want my shirt to stay on.”

“Okay,” he nods respectfully.

He kisses you in all the right spots and touches you where he knows you like to be touched. He is doing absolutely everything right so why do you want to break down in tears right now? Get it together. Just give him what he wants. It might fix you. So, you listen to that part of your brain. He flips you so you’re on your stomach and fucks you from behind. You grip the sheets tightly and put your face in the bed so he doesn’t see the tears, so he doesn’t hear your cries.

You love Spencer and you’re trying hard not to let him see your true feelings. You don’t want to hurt him. It has nothing to do with him but you’re scared to let him see just how broken you are. Thankfully, he’s spent by the time he’s done so he doesn’t see the tears on your cheeks. You immediately roll over and put your head over his heart, and he runs his fingers through your hair. He moves his hands down to your back but you immediately spring away from him.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just need to shower.” He goes to move. “Alone.”

He watches you disappear into the bathroom with a frown. Since the BAU is requesting that Spencer take some time off, he is forced to stay home while you go to work. Everything seems to be the same but this time, you’re gone before he can wake up, and you get home right before he goes to bed. You don’t change in front of him anymore which is the first red flag. He has seen every intimate part of your body, tasted every part of you, so why are you hiding from him now? He’s not going to be a dick and force you to do something you don’t want to do, but why now?

What happened to you while he was in prison?

“Hey, are we okay?” Spencer asks one night after you had just gotten home from work.

“Of course we are.”

“Okay, because if we aren’t, you’d tell me, right?”

“Yes.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine, Spencer.”

You walk into the bathroom to take a bath, leaving him to pick up the pieces you didn’t know you dropped. I’ll be fine. I’ll be fine. It’s the “be” part that is setting off alarm bells. If you had said, “I’m fine”, he would have passed it off and left you alone. The fact that you added the word “be” means you’re definitely not fine. The last time you said, “I’ll be fine” was when he had to pry you from your cold-hearted and evil father’s arms right before he went to prison for what he did to you.

Damn, he should have seen the signs before. You had shut everyone down. You didn’t want to be kissed or touched. You stayed in bed for seventy-two straight hours before Spencer had to force you out of it. Your father is and was an evil man who did untold cold-blooded torture to his own daughter. Your emotional scars don’t show but the physical ones do--whip marks, cigarette burns, and stab wounds. Anything to get his anger out.

Spencer walks to the bathroom carefully and knocks twice on the door. When you don’t answer, he pushes the door open to see you with your back turned toward him. There are newer and fresh scars on your back from the same kind of torture. Some are pinker than others. These ones are recent but how can this be? He hasn’t let you out of his sight since… Prison. He kneels next to the tub and looks at you but you’re not seeing him. You’re staring at the faucet as a single drop of water leaks from it.

“Who did this to you?” Spencer asks angrily. You don’t answer. “Was it your father?”

“He got out of prison when you went in. He found me at work and took me back to that farm,” you whisper. “I was just about to take two weeks off so no one questioned why I was gone. He kept me for three before he just let me go. I got back just days before you did.”

It takes Spencer five minutes to say something because of how angry he is, and he has all this pent-up anger that he’d love to get out.

“Is he breathing?” You can only nod in response. “Not for long, he won’t.”

Your head snaps up at his response but he’s already by the door.

“What are you going to do?”

“Something I should have done the first time around. That man will never touch a hair on your head ever again.”

Spencer leaves the bathroom door open so you can see what he’s doing. You get a flash of his FBI gun before he’s out of frame. You don’t stop him.

You’re in bed when he finally comes back. If you didn’t know where he was going, you’d think he went to the store. There is not a speck of blood on him or an ounce of regret on his face. You don’t ask where he’s been or if your father is alive even though you know he’d tell you if you did. Spencer climbs into bed and pulls you into him, and you rest your head on his chest.

I’m safe now. Spencer is home and everything is right with the world.

It’s going to take a long time until you’re okay again but with Spencer by your side, you know you can get there.

x

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[lemonhemlock]

the reason why i don't think blood & cheese works without maelor is because it undermines the gravity of helaena's choice

in the books, as we all know, she has to choose which son to sacrifice. blood & cheese are going to kill one either way, so, whatever happens, if you want to get cynical about it, aegon will still be left with a male heir of his body. no, the horribleness of the choice lies not really in dynastic matters, but in basic humanity: which of your children are you willing to condemn to death? and helaena truly does try to make the best out of a bad situation, she picks not because she loves jaehaerys more, but because maelor is so tiny that she hopes he won't understand what's going to happen to him.

and she absolutely has to choose, because b&c threaten to rape her daughter if she doesn't. it's psychological torture. b&c just want to fuck her up in the head as much as possible and helaena tries her goddamnest to minimize the harm done to her family. to further compound on the tragedy, b&c kill the opposite child, so now she has to live out the rest of her days knowing that the son left alive is the son SHE herself marked for the axe. which is what understandably drives her to lose her mind

now, in the show, the "problem" blood & cheese have doesn't exist at all: that they can't supposedly tell the twins apart. but (as awful as it sounds, since it involves sexual assault) they could very easily check which child has male genitalia and be done with it. it's a "problem" that takes literal seconds to solve. they don't need helaena at all! it becomes irrelevant which child she points towards - b&c can always just check! she can't save jaehaerys in this situation no matter what she does, because b&c were never interested in jaehaera in the first place. in the books, she has the ability to save one child and this exact horrible "agency" bestowed on her torments her for the rest of her days. in the show, even had she pointed towards jaehaera, it would have been a narrative plot hole for the writers to have killed her without checking

likewise, in the books, she begs them to kill her instead, but, in the show, she offers them a necklace? you can't deny that the dramatic stakes are lowered substantially by making that change. which one of these options would have been more filled with pathos? personally, it just feels like this was phia's moment to shine and, while she did a good job with what she had, every narrative choice was somehow made to subdue this horrible event and left her only crumbs to work with. cinematically-speaking, this scene (as it was executed) does not even come close to the iconic moments that cemented GoT into the collective consciousness, which is very strange, as the subject matter is anything but mediocre

and that's not even getting into the rest of the plot holes that others have already pointed out, like:

- why are there no guards at helaena's door or anywhere else for that matter? not just on that hallway, but on many other hallways, she has to run quite a lot to get to alicent's chambers

- why is her room unlocked at the very least

- why is ALICENT's room unlocked, for that matter? she is having secret guilty sex with criston and she forgets to lock her door in a castle full of spies? anyone could have walked in

- not even getting into this whole thing just being one huge misunderstanding + minimizing daemon's and mysaria's roles :))

- NOT EVEN mentioning removing the trauma of alicent witnessing all of this, gagged and bound on her own bed, not being able to help or intervene in any way

i can understand the likelihood of these elements happening sometimes (maybe someone does forget to lock their door from time to time, maybe a guard does shirk their duties from time to time), but you can't write all of them at once without it turning all looney tunes. if you introduce too many aspects that defy logic in your story, it ceases to be believable and just becomes bad writing

___________________________________________

also, "they killed <the boy>"? not "my son" or "jaehaerys"? it sounds so removed, don't you think? helaena out there on her mother's floor dropping exposition for the audience 🥲

[sootsz]

qsmp has accidentally stumbled into a psychology experiment that would make the stanford prison experiment sob in fear. they’ve gotten a bunch of cc’s, and tens of thousands of viewers, to be deeply emotionally connected to pixel eggs. in doing so they’ve presented a problem:

how the fuck do you get outta this

the eggs were obviously never intended to be permanent (logging on every day to do tasks isn’t feasible to upkeep forever) and they were even given a vague limit of When Mama Dragon Comes Back (and then, of course, the “6 days til they die” thing). now you’ve made it so quackity (and his team) have a big ol dilemma, where two things are true: 1) they can’t keep the eggs forever since it’s not sustainable 2) you can’t take away the eggs without, oopsies, emotionally damaging your friends that you invited to have fun on your server.

turns out, when you give a group of humans all their own fully-realized individual who presents as a (weak, vulnerable) child that is in need of care from them, whatever instinct has kept us alive for generations goes “!!!!!” which is both really cool and compassionate, but also kinda concerning!

because, well: not sustainable! and if the eggs aren’t sustainable, what’s the alternative? killing them?? no! just look at jaiden’s reaction to bobby “losing” a life, even when it wasn’t his last one. or bad’s genuinely heart wrenching reaction to dapper losing a life. or how quiet and angry phil got after chayanne and tallulah had a “nightmare,” before it was resolved. that’s not acting. that’s real. what the hell will they do if the eggs actually die? from what i see, the cc’s are taking the “6 days til death” thing as something that’s avoidable. a threat that can be overcome. and for their sake, i hope it is.

ever played a dnd game where you actually feel insulted bc of smth someone’s pc did? yeah. that x20 because there’s SO much overlap between “streamer persona” and “literally just who they are”. and this level of roleplay character bleeding is cool, but i hope the eggs are handled carefully, or all those involved might end up actually hurt.

there’s also the whole added element of fans, many of whom only tune into the streams for egg content. the plot is very egg-centric. the roleplaying and characterization that the cc’s are doing is all centered around the eggs in one way or another. it’s been going on for a month, but it does not feel at all resolved, and plot-wise it would completely mess up so many plot threads happening if the eggs were all to go (charlie’s unresolved deal with lil j, quackity’s goal to bond with tallulah, the trial, etc etc) so if you take away the eggs, you risk messing up the whole vibe they’ve got going on, and facing backlash from fans who are also emotionally compromised by pixel eggs

we inherently want to protect the cute and vulnerable, and by god are these eggs cute and so very fragile. (then, there’s another layer of people’s own issues that they project onto the eggs. be it desire for paternity, some kind of maternal instinct, or, even in the matter of chayanne, using chayanne as a sort of way to cope with loss by making connections between chayanne and technoblade. which is beautiful and very sweet but would give chayanne dying some additional emotionally charged elements which i think should be avoided at all costs). there’s a reason that movies and other media generally do not kill named children characters—audiences really hate it. it’s taboo for good reason.

which leads us to

schrodinger’s egg: until sunday, they r both alive and dead. and this is both good and bad. god help us all