#a day late but can't believe we are in the last season

[lonestardust]

.

[hischierjustscored]

accidentally yours.・゜・quinn hughes

summary: you barely remembered putting quinn as your emergency contact until he showed up like the universe's idea of a bad joke

a/n: this is my contribution for the winter fic exchange 2k25 by @wyattjohnston for @hanaaishi 🧡 i still owe you forever for being patient and bearing with me on this!! seriously i mean it!! thank you both for making me a part of another amazing exchange which was my first one ever but i'm so happy that i was!! it was such an experience for me diving into all this and hope i was able to do some justice on my part 🧡 i got too carried away smoothing the final edges, hence the delay again, i also changed the idea we talked about a little but i hope it's all good in the end

update: very emotional about all the likes and sharings here, i can't say thank you enough it really means the world to me 🧡🧡🧡 love you all!!!!

warnings: mentions of injuries (light concussion, ankle sprain), hospital, parents pressure, overthinking, scratchin on the surface???, and i trusted myself to do a reader insert so bear with me once more

word count: 5.1k

You remember when you were 8 and took your brother’s bike to try out his self-made wood ramps in the garden, only to fall 6ft from the side and drop straight onto your left hip. That day you found out that grass wasn’t nearly as cushy as it looked but it was your mother’s “told you so” you never forget, lingering in your ears from where you sat in the backseat on the way to the hospital.

You also remember your best friend Lia leaving you in charge of booking an Airbnb for your first trip to Austria together, and you were proud of that cozy little place you found nestled in a mountain valley. But the "cozy" and "European" charms you both imagined left you searching desperately for a hotel in the middle of the holiday season instead, and Lia didn't have to say the words. You could hear the "I told you so" for really trusting someone with the username wanderlustgirl98.

And you remember moving to Vancouver a year ago after your studies, taking up your former professor's advice to follow one of its renowned urban development programs and put your "big-picture" skills to work. He didn’t have to try hard to convince you. You’d already been thinking about it for a long time until it felt like your chance to finally prove yourself. Perhaps even more to your parents. A naive part in you hoped you'd fit into their expectations for once. But if you really did, you'd reach out more than just on birthdays and festivities, maybe even give in to that other more vulnerable part in you and tell them how over your head you've been lately or that, deep down, they were probably right about all of this being a huge leap you still weren't ready for.

And you can only imagine…

Told you so.

It long replaced the loud ringing and the whole new level of woozines you felt an hour ago on the bus, as you watched the nurse adjust the brace on your right ankle, all black and chunky.

You sighed heavily for the 5th time in under 2 minutes, because what did you do to deserve all this?

Oh right, maybe being a chronic people pleaser, staying late at work to set other people's shit right. Fixing last-minute deadlines, cleaning up mistakes that weren’t yours, saying yes when you wanted to say no.

But you couldn't help it.

"It shouldn't take more than 3-6 weeks to heal completly, you're lucky it's just a moderate strain. Nothing that can't be fixed."

She looked up at you over the rim of her glasses, still perched hideously low, before she slowly swiveled back to her desk.

"Can I still work in that thing?", you tried testing out the waters, bending your feet just a little, then more until you sucked in a sharp breath when the pain hit.

"Honey, what do you think this is?", she drawled follwed by a low chuckle as if she couldn't quiet believe this being your first question.

“It’s meant for the healing, you have to keep it still completely and not put any weight on it. And that includes not working."

The last straw keeping you grounded right now is that this could have been much worse.

From the moment the bus driver hit the brakes like in that one Harry Potter scene, your new plateau sneakers giving out on you and your head bracing the inevitable fall on some window. Your initial hope bubble of no one noticing quickly busted as people came to your side, but you brushed them off mumbling that you were fine through the worst cringe of unwanted attention. Until you tried to balance yourself, only to realize you couldn't, and straightening up nearly made you sick.

You shifted, bracing your palms against the mattress to find a more comfortable position, minus flaring your ankle up again. You’d been in this bed for too long, it was driving you crazy.

"But how am I supposed to do that? Other than floating maybe..."

The mocking arch of her brows made the wrinkles on her forehood stand out more, but you couldn't care less, it was the pure frustration blurting out of you at this point you weren't even kidding about the last part. The last thing you needed on your mind was your boss' face to your sick call tomorrow morning. Not with the mayor visiting your office in 2 days, waiting to hear your thoughts on improving Vancouver's climate neutrality through sustainable architecture. And what you’ve worked tirelessly on, perfecting every detail from start to finish.

And you thought if all of this is some sort of reverse karma. Only for being hardworking. Is that a thing?

You were so lost in thought that you didn't notice the shuffling in the room until she came back with something that, if any shred of humor was left inside you, you would've laughed at. But instead, you just slumped back against the headrest, the wave of déjà vu taking you back to when you were 8 looking between the crutches in her hand.

Hardworking karma, reverse karma, just trying as hard as you can karma...

"I think you will be good with these", she offered, leaning them against your bed within reach, "maybe if you try hard enough you will actually float."

Her chumy tone you still couldn't quite feel yet, had your eyes roll back in an instant before closing them, grumbling to yourself, "Just great, really, really, great", but it was a mistake once you did as you fought off the urge to drift off completly.

A piece of mind for the first time in hours. Maybe for the first time in forever even.

The last months have been...immense to say the least, throwing yourself into anything that kept you running on autopilot, saying yes when you wanted to say no, but you needed it.

After the biggest "told you so" that was bound to happen eventually. 2 months from now or more, or perhaps between his work, your work, balancing on a life that went past deadlines and demands, between 2 people who have their own reasons to prove themselves to everything around them, you slipped out of each other’s reach.

But it’s not like there was ever an official you two.

It was just the version of the story you always liked best.

“Here you go, I was able to find one in the random stash we keep in our break room, but it should work though," a voice light and sweet snapped your attention back faster or not fast enough, you didn't know, blinking against the lights now.

For a second, you felt like you were back on the bus with the dizziness and nausea creeping in again.

But no. Just him. It was just the thought of Quinn.

Your weighted gaze shifted to the bubbly blonde next to you, then down to your forearm where she lightly nudged a charger against it, and you suddenly remembered how determined she was to get it for you when you realized your phone powered down.

You couldn’t even text Lia back in time, knowing you were already too late for the rare occassions of missing your daily Facetime calls, with her still being back home in Seattle. Not in a trillion years you expected to feel this way about her, but right now you're glad she is.

Because if she she'd see you like this, she'd already know the answers without you giving it to her, that you take on more than your chronic people pleasing heart could handle sometimes.

And he'd always know too. When to snap you out of it, when to just exist beside you with no words. He'd never have to ask.

"Oh yeah, thank you", you forced out in the most put-together tone you could pull off right now, hoping our smile was convincing enough to distract her from the way your clammy palms were rubbing against the mattress, or the rapid thumping of your heart that you’d see too on your chest if you dared to look down again.

"Just enough to call a Uber and you can take it back."

She gave you a simple half-shrug, taking your phone from your outstretched hand, "It's stuff patients leave behind soo..", and plugged it in for you. But before you could brush her answer off again, the low calling of your last name made you snap to a tall man in the doorway, and his two long strides toward you could either mean more bad or good news.

You held your breath as you listened to him in silence going over your completly normal labs and scans which only told you everyone was making a bigger deal out of this anyway. You were fine, biting the inside of your cheeks reluctantly when he added they'd be filling out a sick report too.

"-though we would like to monitor you here for a night just in case you develop more symptoms that can’t be ruled out from the hit, and given that you already experienced dizziness and nausea-"

No person or force on this earth could make you stay here for one minute longer.

You released your cheeks with a click of your tongue, cutting him off quickly, "Uhhh that's not necessary, I mean I feel way better now and you just said it too didn't you?", which finally made him look up from whatever, clearly taken aback, his suprise mirrowing your own for a different reason.

Plus, you knew your rights. They couldn't keep you hostage here, you were ready to remind him of their own policy.

"I'm glad you do, we just want to make sure that-"

But you barely registered his next words, lost beneath the familiar sound of your phone finally wrapping up in your hands, and you were as happy as a little kid seconds away from unwrapping the biggest gift under the Christmas as tree, just, it didn't ask you to press your thumb down to unlock it as it normally would but...

"Damn it."

The one time your phone decides to ask for your SIM card code, and you’re completely blank.

Hardworking karma, reverse karma, just trying as hard as you can karma...

Yes, you really believed now, you did everything wrong tonight and this was the real karma of it all.

Your thumbs brushed the screen, trying to remember 4 digits like your life depended on it with the only 3 attempts you had.

The day you bought it you scribbled it down, along with the backup code (of course), and put it on your fridge because your memory rivaled that of a goldfish sometimes.

Was it 5678 or 5679?, and you heart dropped as deep as the Marianna Trench when it said only 1 attempt left.

"...and with how things are right now, we wouldn't encourage you to leave on your own. Do you have someone you can call right now to pick you up? Someone safe?"

Was he still talking to you?

"Huh? What?", the phone nearly slid from your grip, your palms starting to clam up again, and he lowered his clipboard studying you with an expression you weren't sure you had the energy to fully read, but it felt too damn close to pity.

"Or anyone we could call...?"

Quinn knew now that he could only trust Jack when it comes to discussing goodreads.com reader's favorites, ideas for lake house interior, and shooting pucks.

Not with anything close to dating. Or helping him out with that.

He was doing just fine. Thank you very much, but he knew Jack. Too much for his own good sometimes.

"Why do you act like you don't want it when you actually do. You need this. Get out of your head."

Sitting in this Italian restaurant that was a little too crowded for it being a secret "gem" as Jack said suggesting it to him, and he didn't even live here, listening to his date "soul-searching" trip to Bali was far from want and need.

He checked her Instagram highlights before, clicking on her profile Jack DM'd him. A friend of a friend. If overpriced veggie bowls and infinity pool thirst traps were anything soul-searching she's deluding both of them, and so was his thinking that maybe he should give this a shot. "Getting out his head", with the season already hitting him with flashbacks he wanted to forget for the sake of his sanity, and keeping away from anything that kept him running on autopilot.

"It just put everything into perspective", she chattered, her voice pulling him back just enough to realize he had no idea what she was talking about.

And he knew the moment he looked up from stirring the ice in his water with his straw for the past 5 minutes, there wouldn't be damn thing he'd remember about her either. She was beautiful, that much was obvious. The kind she knew and had probably been told her whole life, she didn't have to try too hard.

He preffered not trying at all. It was his favorite.

Probably ever since you took his drink at the coffee shop one day, the place too crowded for names to be called, just cups sliding across the counter and you didn't even look down at his name scribbled on the side in Sharpie when you slipped past him on the way out, not bothered to notice him either. The moment he should've said something, tap your shoulder, say anything when he just kept watching you move outside, tilting your head at street signs like they weren’t second nature yet, checking your phone every few seconds like you had somewhere important to be. Grabbing the wrong coffee without a second glance wasn’t his only hunch that you weren’t from here. Then, the sip. Too strong. Wholebean. Definitely not yours.

You turned back, ready to go back inside, but he already had yours in his hands on his way out to you when they started calling out names again, and no one responded to, except for him.

A moment, a pause, your cold fingers brushing against his warm ones, or when you laughed at your mistake all crinkly around your eyes, perharps for the first time in a while that day, that should have been it, but wasn't, because between all of it you just became a part of his routine.

“…And then, on the third day, we did this sunrise meditation hike just me and a few people from the retreat, barefoot, totally disconnected, away from everything."

She kept going, oblivious to the way his focus had disconnected, his mind already elsewhere, lost in the memory of the last time he wanted to get away from everything, and the cushion underneath him slid akwardly when he shifted in his seat.

I wasn't about overpriced veggie bowls or infinity pools. But his favorite place in Michigan. Always.

And he wanted to take you there.

It had been a vague idea, one that had come up in the quiet moments in betweeen road trips and late-night talks at his place that were too deep and glances that lingered too long to mean anything less than what he had already convinced himself was true about you. The same feeling hit him when you gave him that slight curve of your lips, the one that always told him you had him figured out when he told you about the days being slow and the nights nothing but still stars at the lake house.

"Hmm, that's not true stars are moving constantly, we just don't see it."

He laughed, quiet but warm,"Can you at least pretend to fall for it?" just to get stuck in his throat.

"It never is with you."

"What?"

"Pretending."

It never was with you either.

But it never became anything more than vague. Because there was always something else. Texts left on read for too long, you and your own world to keep up with just as much as he did with travel schedules that blurred weeks into months, not leaving room for things he didn't know how to hold onto. Or someone who didn't know either.

A low buzz from behind, easy to miss if it hadn’t lingered just long enough to jolt him back before he knows. He shifted again, and even though this was only ever one-sided, a genuine "Really sorry, I will turn it off" left his lips as he gawkly reached for his jacket over the backrest.

He hadn’t meant to look, a habit more than anything. But then his thumb hesitated mid-air, double-taking the number.

Unknown. Vancouver area code. Probably nothing. Probably something.

But always a red flag, especially for someone in his industry.

"Thought you were turning it off?", she mused, tipping her wine glasss to her lips, watching him over the rim and he forced a quick exhale, "Yeah, I-", but he didn't have a real answer with the buzzing still alive in his hand.

And he should've turned it off, ignore it, and sit through the night rest of the night pretending like he hadn't already made up his mind about this whole thing.

You need this.

But Jack was wrong.

He wasn't even sure what "this" was even supposed to be. Whatever, it never felt right since the start.

His phone buzzed again with the same caller, but now he thought about it being a perfect timing.

"I gotta take this...", he mumbled, barely shooting her a glance, and he swiped right before his mind could really caught up with it.

"Hello?"

A breath, a pause, nothing good he muses on it already, but he used it to press his index finger to his ear to drown out the noise, shifing again.

"Uhm, yeah, hello it's Vancouver General Hospital am I speaking to Quinn H?"

Well this was new.

"Depends, who is this?", ignoring the "H" making it sound like a witness protection program name. Not that he planned on correcting them. Or rather, a nurse as she introduced herself, surprisingly professional, enough to raise his interest and, slowly, his concerns too.

"Sir, we have your sister here, she was brought in with a mild concussion and a sprained ankle some hours ago. But don't worry, she is totally fine, she just needs someone to pick her up which is why we're calling."

His brows snapped together, head jerking back to the slightest bit like his brain needed an extra second to process.

"My what? Excuse me?"

Last time he checked it was just Jack and Luke. Their parents would never screw them over like that, no way the would forget an entire human being for twenty-something years. Right? Not even back when they first sat him down to tell him he’d be a big brother, and his two-year-old self, without hesitation, decided he wanted a sister. But by the time Luke came, he was bound to live with brothers. He wouldn't change that for the world now.

So when the nurse repeated the words that his sister listed him as her emergency contact Quinn could only stare blankly ahead, "Yeah, I still think you've got the wrong number..."

She is wasting her time on a call when this girl was really waiting to be picked up, and he was just about to put it in terms she’d finally grasp, until-

You.

The noise around him, muffled laughter and the hum of conversation, the restless tapping of manicured nails against the table cloth across him, faded into nothing. And if with his thoughts already going from 0 to 100, this is his breaking point.

Your name.

He cleared his throat, but his voice came out strained, throat too dry, "Come again?"

Of all the names, hitting his ears after all these months but thought more of than he'd ever admit. The name he'd seen on his screen too many times, resisting the urge to check, to ask, to do something.

Everything dropped, turned over, a slow ache pressing against his ribs, too overwhelming and far too familiar.

But his body moved before his mind could catch up, momentum taking over. Someone said his name. Maybe, he couldn't care less. Something about a drink next, about sitting back down, but he ignored it again.

Because you were still ringing in his head, louder than it had in months.

And he wasn’t about to ignore it now.

"He said he's already on his way, shouldn't take longer than 10 minutes."

It made your brows furrow in confusion, "He's in the area?", but you said it more to yourself than to her, not that she heard it either in the crowded waiting room you were sitting in now, your ankle on a cushioned chair they'd given you.

Turns out you had listed an emergency contact the last time you were here, one you didn’t even remember leaving behind. Apparently, hospital policy included holding onto records long enough to make you wait nearly an hour, because the name they had on file was your brother. And, of course, he was on a business trip in Abbotsford, 1 hour away. The only reasonable choice to put down when they’d asked back then. Then again, you barely remembered.

Except for the fact that it was your first public unveiling of a project you led. You had invited your parents, that small, hopeful part of you giving in, calling them, telling them you’d be happy if they came. You were almost surprised by their promising tone, as if, finally, they’d understand this wasn’t just about concepts and sketches but about your dream.

But they didn’t come, texting out of everything, with an excuse that felt too made up. And hours ago, when your stomach had already sunk from scanning the crowd for them every time a new group arrived, it sank further. This time with the mix of one bad shrimp and something stronger you’d used to numb the disappointment.

How could you forget when you really really wanted to.

"Is you brother like...famous or something? Because your records were pretty mysterious."

You looked up to the same bubbly blonde nurse, still standing in front of you with her lips pressed together,

"I think we're close enough he'd care to tell me or I would've found out sooner or later, but no, sorry to dissapoint you or anything", you corrected, hoping that was enough while you were already done processing the absurdity of it all. You slumped against the rigid backrest, sighing as the exhaustion crept in again, but rest was the last thing anyone was willing to grant you right now.

“Still”, she rambled on, not getting the memo, "kinda sounded familiar..."

One eye popped open, then another when you saw her crossing her arms now. This conversation slowly glided out of your hands, you just leaned forward, jerking your head to the side, silently urging her to make sense of whatever this was.

"Your record just said Quinn H. and nothing more. I had to call him Mr. H. the whole time, but I figured he prefers this kind of privacy and that's what you want for him too. He didn't tell me his last name though, sooo...it was pretty weird."

Your fingers now hoved near the cushioned stool, reaching for your calf to lift it off with more force than you should've and the sting was instant. But it was nothing compared to the irritation climbing its way up your throat where your heart already pounded in it.

Because not your brother was about to walk through that door. The person who should've been here.

No.

It will be Quinn Hughes.

And suddenly you were mid-fall again, right there on the bus, every last bit of control slipping past your grip. Nothing you could do.

Because drunk you put him down as your emergency contact that time. The one you barely remember.

"Wait, no", a breath left you, unsteady, "Call him again and tell him it's a big fucking mistake", your hands twitched in flight mode as you darted between her and the sliding doors open-mouthed, cause you remembered her saying he was only 10 minutes away. 5 even, if you're unlucky.

The same Quinn you stopped talking too, who if you looked into his eyes again, the same on that always made you wonder, if they could get any darker, any greener, would he notice?

That you mever meant for things to be this way? That it wasn't him, not really but your own mind, the way this new life kept pulling at you, and how you wanted to reach out when things calmed down. When you had space. When you could be the version of yourself that he deserved.

Maybe he was waiting for you. Maybe he thought you didn't care. It was only fair, but it didn't loosen the knot in your chest, nor how you blinked away the sting in your eyes that you told yourself was from the stuffy air with too many people breathing in here.

Because you did. You always did.

"Hey sis."

And in that instant, it felt like all the oxygen had been sucked from the room, how else could you explain the way your lungs refused to function, as if they’d forgotten how, when you snapped your head to where he stood now inches away.

How long?

His navy blue shirt was barely visible under his coat, his hair grown out just enough for the ends to curl, for it to peek out from the beanie he held in his hand, looking too good even with his hair tousled still like he'd always did asking you if he looks okay, what you could see him doing in whatever thing you interruped him in before he got here,

It pressed in too heavy, you had to cut through it, and the faint hid of a smirk tugging at his mouth corner.

"Why are you here?"

"What happ-"

You barely felt the ache in your ankle over the blood rushing in your ears when you shifted your weight standing now, his gaze dropping to the crutches you stood up without, your brace, the subtle wince you thought you hid. And it was fucking with your heart that he wasn't just looking at you, but like he was piecing something back together.

He parted his lips, but his eyes flicked past yours first, toward the nurse behind you, when his fingers around his beanie, "You were brought in here", he hesistated, "Needed someone to pick you up."

That was the objective, something everyone would've done perhaps if they received such call, being a good or person, or the simple fact that he was your emergency contact.

You needed the subjective.

You huffed, shaking your head, "This is not what I meant. You could have said no."

"I didn't."

"You should have."

The words sounded sharper on your tongue than you wanted them to be, and you didn't know what hurt more, the way his expression barely shifted like he'd expected to be shut down again, because you were getting so good at it, or how your insides churned 360 degrees of how much you already regretted them.

"What do you want me to say? You're the one who put my name down I didn't even knew until now or let you bolt out of here with an concussion like they told me?"

Bolted. Floated. Whatever to get out of here finally.

"Well, neither was I, and I'm fine", you muttered fixing you gaze on the sterile floor instead, on anything but the way how he was fixing you, "but let's just drop it to the part where you go back to whatever you had going on before coming here I guess and me saying sorry for it."

The bittersweet taste in your mouth.

Only when the dull ache flared up in your good ankle did you realize you’d been standing without your crutches all this time. and before you even thought to reach for your crutches, he was already moving. Anticipating. The moment your balance gave out on you, he was already there, steady hands at your elbow and bicep, grounding you before gravity could do worse, and your pulse skipped how easy it was to sink into it.

His breath hitched, and so did yours, the warmth of his touch pooling through your fabric like you swallowed an ember, and his eyes, god his eyes, the darkest green, you don't even have to look up to be convinced about it again, all on you, as he murmured, barely a whisper.

"Don't be sorry, because it didn't mean anything."

Sitting in his car with the seat warmer already on like he remembered how easily cold you can get, watching as he pulled up your adress from his "saved" typing it into the console, it fucked with your heart all over again.

You should have protested, insisting you were fine enough to make it out on your own, scoffing when the nurse told Quinn, not you, that you needed monitoring, just in case.

But exhaustion had already settled too deep in your bones, that you were almost thankful for the silence settling between you since he helped walking you out and insisted to drive you home at least.

Almost.

You would’ve been the biggest fool alive if you let this slip again, like you always did, like you always regretted.

"I am sorry though."

"And I told you not to be."

The darkness in his eyes gave way to the streetlights flickering through them as you turned to face him, "You don’t get to tell me what I should and shouldn’t be sorry for, Hughes", you jested and Quinn huffed out something close to a laugh, shaking his head lightly. The soft glow from outside looked too good on him when you stopped at a right light, you swallowed hard, "What kind of brother would I be too?"

You groaned, rolling your eyes. "Oh my god, stop. I didn’t even mean to put you down as my contact."

"Keep it, I don't mind."

"You say that like you wouldn’t have blocked my number by now if you had the chance."

Quinn smirked, tilting his head against the headrest, his eyes flickering toward you. "Would’ve done it already if I wanted to."

Then, before either of you could think too much about it, his hand reached out, his pinky brushing against yours on the center console, like testing the waters, like answering more questions without words. It was enough.

He squeezed your hand once.

You squeezed back. An answer.

[maddragon15]

Obscenely late hermitaday day #23 & 25! - Impulse & Tango

Was this meant to be a simple cel shaded drawing on the 30th? Yeah, yeah it was lmao but somehow the power of fire excels at overtaking the rendering capabilities.

But since it's late I'll use this as excuse to ramble below about well, the headcanons and the process down yonder. Also there's variations.

(Also just realized that the compression is high with this one, please click on it to see the details pretty pleasee)

So! Let's talk about that haircut shall we? First off Tango's haircut is basically just me slapping my very neglected oc's haircut onto him lol. There's no function usage or any other lore about it, literally just I wanted to use that haircut more. But Miners and Crafters that's not all! The intensity of the flame actually has meaning believe it or not.

Since Tango in the headcanons is already a nether born blaze hybrid the redstone kinda didn't have an effect on him. This is because blazes produce glowstone which is a power source onto itself. He gets minor effects instead which is a mild (there's literally no other word) high, a intensified hair flame and a brighter eye night shine. Negative effects include mild joint & jaw pain, and a small localized headache behind the left eye.

I like to imagine that other blaze hybrids' hair flame aren't normally that intense, not white-hot heat but rather more red n orange hot similar to the flats. Mainly due to the fact that glowstone is not as powerful as redstone and it's also dependent on how strong a blaze is. Now imagine with me that blazes determine how strong each other are via the color they're emitting. Now remember the blaze boss Minecraft had a vote on to add or not to add? What if Tango is constantly mistaken as a high ranking blaze because of how intense his fire is and he doesn't get attacked a whole lot except for the few that want to challenge him. Meanwhile Tango is just highly infused with redstone like all the other redstoners and he doesn't know what's happening half time as seen by his terrified scream-laughs /hj

He's also semi modified with redstone for the pure purpose of comms just like the other redstoners minus mumbo. I also would've leaned into the steampunk aspect of this season but I figured I'd do a character sheet like etho for all of the redstoners and finalize the aspects on those.

Onto Impulse!

I like to imagine that Impulse was a regular human and over the course of redstone exposure he gained pointed ears and horns. For what reasons? I have no idea but redstone works in mysterious ways and mutates on whatever happens to be in their system. You may see that he has purple lines across his face but then red pupils, why is that? Well since he's cyperpunk themed this season he modified his redstone implants to be rgb. He can change everything else except his pupils because those are deeply affected by redstone and would require surgery to remove the build up of redstone. Will any of the redstoners ever actually get rid of it? No but you can beg all day.

You also might be wondering what's happening in their ears? Well those are the advanced comms that are actually used across all hermits except the ones who've opted out for glowstone variants. They kinda work like bluetooth except more hermit-magic way. I haven't had time to fully think of how it'd work down to the circuitry (that's my usual process for headcanons before I ship them out) but I'll post about it when I think of the full layout. Other design aspects on impulse are derived from his skin and the poster design by applestruda!

Process wise for this piece was kinda a rollercoaster heh. I had started this piece a while ago (can't remember the day on the dot) and then I got insanely busy during the last week of hermitaday. I had done sketch, refined sketch and flats in two days. Then events proceeded forth and we arrive on the 4th which I tried for an entire day to figure out how to render this piece. I then gave up and tried again the day after and pulled up references this round on Pinterest. Tango was surprisingly easy to paint with ref and went rather fast. I will admit the entire time I was rendering him I did say every minute or so "I love you man" because he was turning out so good. Halfway through I then realized I still had to render Impulse. That's when I pretty much ended that night because it was already 5 am working on Tango and demotivation was setting in fast. The next day I was able to continue with hesitancy on Impulse but I managed to keep on keeping on and in the early hours of today I finished up the piece. Where I'm now writing about it close to 2 pm in a restaurant. Man though it was kinda hard to make Impulse and Tango look like cohesive and as if they were painted together.

Enjoy!

(Side note I applied for inprint and if I am to be accepted this will be available along side the three different eefs I've drawn and doc.)

[totalswag]

nonsense — DREW STARKEY

authors note i've wanted to write a singer!reader drew fic for the longest time. i've read some singer!reader fics lately and it gave me some inspiration to write my own. i hope you guys enjoy reading. this was also requested by an anon not long ago, so if you’re reading this enjoy 🩵. the song choice is nonsense and just think to when sabrina is performing this song at coachella.

summary performing at coachella for the first time with friends and your lovely boyfriend supporting you in the crowd.

warnings none!

Coachella.

This is your first Coachella where you are performing. You will be playing live in front of millions of people. This is the last weekend for the festival.

Tens of thousands of people travel from all over the world to attend Coachella. The festival features sculptures, art installations, and other open events in addition to music.

When your manager called you about being invited to perform you couldn't believe your ears. Now, here you are about to step on stage.

Standing in a circle backstage with your crew, discussing everything you've prepared for over the last few days and having fun out there. This is what you always do before a show.

Second weekend of the festival.

Walking on stage seems like a surreal experience for you. Looking around, you can sense the intensity of the enormous crowd in front of you.

The weather was lovely, with the sun still shining and the breeze brushing over your skin. 

"Hello Coachella, my name is Y/F/N, what's yours?" You smile into the microphone while waving away.

You began by introducing the crowd to yourself, your backup dancers, your music, if everyone is having a great time, etc.

Interacting with your fans is one of your favorite parts of singing on stage. You value your interactions with them since you like conversing. When you read comments on your shows, they usually mention how fascinating you are.

After singing a few songs from the set list, you took a little breather and spoke to the crowd saying a joke, making them laugh.

You begin the next song by sipping from an old-fashioned soda bottle while seated in a chair. As you take a seat, you glimpse your boyfriend, Drew, along with a couple of your friends and security. 

You two make eye contact. Butterflies fill your stomach. You offer him a small wave, and he smiles and turns around, presumably blushing.

Fans up close captured the brief interaction with their phones out. We'll see it on social media later today.

Drew and you began dating in the midst of season three of Outer Banks. The first outing was Pougelandia, and fans began to speculate about your relationship because it came out of nowhere.

To be honest, Madelyn Cline and you were close friends before she began filming season one of Outer Banks. She’s the one who introduced you to Drew.

"The last song I'll be playing for you guys is nonsense, so if you know the lyrics, sing along," you cheer, lifting your free hand in the air, moving it around with excitement.

"Is it possible we get my amazing dancers out here," you turn around, pretending you have no idea where they went, "guys come out here, we could perform some sort of choreography, you know" as you gaze at your dance crew coming out the set.

Nonsense is about Drew.

It is one of your favorite songs that you have written. When you first released it, many were unsure who it was about until photos of Drew and you emerged.

Think I only want one number in phone

I might change your contact to "don't leave me alone"

You said you like my eyes and you like to make 'em role

Treat me like a queen, now you got me feelin' thrown, oh

You dance with your dancing crew, who are behind you and moving in sync. The choreography is muscle memory for you guys because you've been performing this song for a few years now.

But I can't help myself when you get close to me

Baby, my tongue goes numb, sounds like "bleh bleh bleh"

I don't want no one else (no no) baby, I'm into deep

Here's a little song I wrote (a song I wrote) its about you and me

When you sing the last line of the pre-chorus, you gesture to Drew in the audience, who moves his head side to side while listening to you sing and blushes when you point to him. You giggle into the microphone.

Fans started cheering louder as they watched you motioning to your lover in the audience.

You continue to move around stage all throughout the song.

You go around the center of the stage as your backup dancers finish their final few dances. One of your backup dancers grabs a chair for you to sit in.

At the end of nonsense you always come up with rhymes. Started doing this after the first performance and can't stop doing it.

Told him he makes me weak to my knees

Everything about him just so dreamy

By the way he's name Drew Starkey

When you say your boyfriend's name, the crowd cheers. You saw his response as he mouthed the words "I love you," dropped his jaw, and put his hands over his heart.

"Coachella, you've been amazing to me these past two weekends. Thank you so much. Can we please give a huge around of applause for our amazing dancers, come on out guys!" Excitement in your voice when you call your dance crew out on stage.

Once you guys made it off stage, you guys began cheering with a bunch of energy. Everyone gave each other hugs.

"Water is calling my name right now" you groan with urgency.

Approaching your manager, holding a cold water bottle for you- thanking her a few times as you open the bottle. You were about jugging down the water when you heard Drew's voice approaching.

"Hi baby," you squeal, dragging the y in baby, and rush into Drew's arms, wrapping your arms around his neck. Being in his arms sends relief in your body.

He smells so good.

He chuckles, "You did so well out there, so proud of you," and delicately places you on your feet.

"Thank you," blushing to the point where your cheeks were red. "Did you enjoy the outro of nonsense?" You inquire with curiosity, despite the fact that you already know his response.

He softly grins that makes your heart flutter, "Mhm yeah I did" kissing the top of your head, wrapping his right arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him.

"Why don't we get something to eat?" "How's that sound, baby?" Drew asks, his arm still around you.

Your ears and eyes light up from his request, “obviously yes.”

Before leaving you heard the voices of friends turning the corner. The rest of your friends, as well as Drew's cast members who are also your friends, returned to stage, thrilled to see you.

It was so good to see them.

Drew and you returned to the van to change, drove to the Airbnb to relax before returning to watch other artists perform after the sun had set with your friends.

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[taesanrot]

[moved on] fwb!taesan x f!reader | 0.7k words shorter drabble inspired by the song moved on by laundry day!

my heart is saying things my mind just cannot speak ... i don't know what is wrong with me

taesan was an avoidant. he was good at ignoring things, pushing away the elephant in the room and pretending he doesn't care, that it couldn't bother him any less. he was good at ignoring the way your glances at him grew longer and fonder. he was even better at ignoring the way your doe eyes and soft hair made his heart race and stomach turn.

i'm clinging onto you just like i cannot breathe ... i don't know what is wrong with me

he knew it hurt you and he hated himself for it. you two had agreed to keep things between the two of you casual, seeking comfort in each others' touch in the late hours of the weekend and barely speaking the days in between. at the time it started, taesan's fleeting presence filled you up, bringing you out of the emotional trenches school had sent you into.

maybе I'm the problem saying this is alright ... am i coming on too strong?

that was your first mistake -- you should've known you were setting yourself up for failure right then and there. letting the raven haired boy light up your day with a simple stroke of his hand against your cheek; your heart never stood a chance against the curse of time.

please make sure you call, just to say it's alright ... am i waking you all night?

as the days passed, it was taesan who became the reason you ached on late nights. staring at your still unread message, you wondered why things were like this. the boy's actions twisted your mind in ways he'd never know. at times like this your mind flashed back to the way he was after the sun had set, when it was just the two of you in your own world.

we get together but things might just be better if we moved on

the way his warm lips felt against your neck, the way his fingers burned into your skin, it was all imprinted on your mind. the moments you two shared felt so intimate, and they replayed in your mind over and over like a broken record.

turning around under your heavy blanket for the tenth time that night, you screwed your eyes shut as more and more memories invaded your mind and dreams.

the two of you had been watching a movie, your head laying on his chest and his hand rubbing your shoulder softly. eyes trained on your laptop, you almost missed taesan’s face in your peripheral vision, peeking over at you. he had a habit of doing this — you always assumed he was simply checking if you were awake. you always stayed silent, just smiling and blinking delicately at him.

“i’m awake, san” you don’t know what made you blurt out defensively, but taesan shook his head softly at your words.

“i know, i was just looking at you.” your stomach still turns at the thought of the smile he was adorning as those words fell from his pretty lips.

his fond smile only looked wicked to you now, his words singing your skin and burning your resolve. how could he say all of that without feeling a single thing? you thought to yourself bitterly.

am i giving you up? ... changing seasons, can't believe it now i'm leaving you

sometimes taesan too thought he was insane. it stung to think about the sweet things he'd said or done to you -- it scared him how he meant it all completely. the boy didn't know what was wrong with him, why he couldn't just let the two of you be happy and togehter. he felt like a speed bump in the road, stubbornly and selfishly guarding his heart at the expense of your fragile mind.

hindsight is 20/20, and sitting alone in his cold and you-less bed, taesan knows what he should've done and said to you, what was staring him in the face this whole time. he was utterly in love with you and he didn't even realize.

bitterly, he pulls his phone out of his pocket and reads over your last text to him again.

[2:47 a.m]

y/n: i can't keep doing this anymore. i'm sorry, let's stop seeing each other.

you have been blocked by this number!

[hiitsm]

Through Rain and Pain

Angst, Fluff, Comfort

Note: this piece is a bit over the top.

Note: I've been feeling very anxious lately, a big deadline coming up next week. I won't be able to get any writing piece out for this weekend but I still wanted to give you all a little something.

-

As you step onto the Johan Cruijff Stadium in Barcelona for the pitch inspection with both teams, a wave of gratitude washes over you. Your club, though not widely known or fervently supported, largely due to its all-women roster, has defied the odds to reach the Women's Champions League first round.

Facing FC Barcelona Femení is a daunting challenge, and you secretly acknowledge that they are likely to win, yet the sting is softened by the fact that your girlfriend plays for them, along with many of your friends. You hold a quiet hope that next season will see you joining their ranks. Negotiations are already in motion, and you trust that the universe will align, allowing you to move to Barcelona and spend your days with your girlfriend by your side.

The stands of the Johan Cruijff Stadium are already buzzing with FC Barcelona fans, including Alexia’s family. You spot her mother Eli, sister Alba, and Uncle Richard among the sea of supporters and make your way over to greet them. Your journey here had its own set of challenges. Upon arriving in Barcelona last night and heading to the hotel by bus, your coach informed you, with a notable lack of sympathy, that your jersey had been forgotten, and there was no backup available. This oversight made you sigh heavily with frustration.

Thankfully, Alexia’s family has always been a pillar of support, not just for you and your relationship with Alexia, but for your career as well. Remembering that you had given them one of your club jerseys this season, you called Eli in a mix of embarrassment and desperation, asking if she could bring it to the stadium. You decided to keep this mishap from Alexia, knowing she would be outraged by how your coaching staff had overlooked their star player. You didn’t want to add to her stress or incite any trouble before the game.

As you approach Alexia's family, they greet you warmly with hugs. Eli immediately hands you your jersey, her expression clouded with concern. "I can't believe they did this to you. You need to leave that club," she says, echoing the protective nature that Alexia herself often shows. "I know, we are working on it," you reply with a heavy sigh, the weight of the situation evident in your voice. "But thanks to you, I can play today. I'll catch up with you all after the match!" you add, offering Eli an apologetic smile before heading back to the pitch, ready to face the game ahead.

You turn around to find your girlfriend standing there, a playful grin spreading across her face as she opens her arms wide for a hug, clearly amused by the slight jump you gave. "Did I just see my mother handing you one of your jerseys?" she asks, her eyebrow arched in a mix of humor and disbelief.

"Yes, because they forgot mine, but it's okay, these things happen, right?" you respond in a rushed whisper, hoping your swift chatter might prevent her from grasping the full story. But Alexia knows you too well and the concern is evident in her voice as she presses, "How could they forget you?"

You feel her hand grip your arm, a physical reminder for her to stay calm rather than confront your coaches then and there. "Just this season to finish, amor," you reassure her, trying to ease the tension.

She looks up at you, her eyes softening. "Te amo mucho," she whispers, her grip relaxing. With a smile, she releases you, wishes you good luck, and turns to greet her family with a quick hello.

You chat with a few teammates from your side before heading to the changing rooms to prepare. Your coaches deliver their typical, overly optimistic speeches about how much better your team is than FC Barcelona and how you can defeat them. You might have believed them, just like everyone else on your team, if your girlfriend wasn't Alexia Putellas.

You know firsthand the dedication she puts in as captain and the effort every player on their team invests. You see the hard work they put in, not just during training, but also at home.

Deep down, you know your team doesn't stand a chance. But you won't voice that. Instead, you smile and motivate everyone because they love the game. It’s going to be an exciting match, and playing against the best in the world is a valuable opportunity to improve your skills.

As you walk onto the pitch, now ready to face the match, the weather takes a turn, with pouring rain coming down from the sky. This is going to be a tough match.

Starting as a right winger, you quickly realize your teammates rely on you heavily, passing the ball to you every chance they get. You barely catch a breath, constantly helping to defend against Barça's relentless attacks. When your team does gain possession, they blindly pass it to you, trusting you to drive the offense. The coaches have built their tactics around you. It's a lot of pressure, but you're handling it well.

As you defend once again, you execute a slide tackle, tapping the ball away. However, the heavy rain causes you to slide further than expected, ending up on your stomach and chest. Suddenly, a sharp sting hits your right side, and you take a moment to catch your breath before attempting to get up.

Your girlfriend, notices that you haven't risen immediately. Despite being your opponent in this match, her concern for you takes precedence, and she quickly rushes to your side to check on you.

Alexia reaches you swiftly, placing a gentle hand on your back as you lay on your stomach. Meanwhile, your team takes advantage of the pause for a quick water break and a chat with the coach. "Are you okay, amor?" she asks softly.

"I don't know, something doesn't feel quite right," you say breathlessly, the sting in your side intensifying. Alexia's expression grows more serious as she looks at you closely, her eyes widening in alarm at what she sees.

Quickly, she positions herself in front of you, shielding you from the view of others. Confused, you hear her speaking urgently to her teammates, "Formen un círculo para tener privacidad y llamen a un médico." Her voice is fast and anxious, a clear sign of her worry.

As she sits on the field, her hands holding your head gently, her legs positioned protectively next to your sides, she notices small glass splinters on the field. Rage fills her, because how could their stadium have glass on the field? They even checked beforehand.

"There's glass on this field!" Alexia shouts angrily to the referee. The referee quickly sprints off to address the situation with the necessary personnel. Alexia immediately turns her focus back to you, her concern evident in her eyes.

"Just stay like this, okay Bebita? I've got you," Alexia says lovingly, her tone both soothing and protective. As you glance down, you see that your shirt has been sliced from the right neckline across to your left side. It has also cut through your bra, revealing your breast.

You're bleeding significantly on your right breast, with the rain making it more challenging to manage the bleeding. Panic rises within you, and you grip Alexia's hand more tightly.

"It's okay, Bebita. We've formed a circle for privacy" she reassures you, her voice calm and soothing. "I'm staying right here with you, okay? I just need to stand up for a moment to make room for the medics." She offers you a soft smile, her eyes filled with reassurance and unwavering support.

"We need to turn you onto your back so they can help you, she whispers, squeezing your hand reassuringly. "I'm here and not going anywhere. There's privacy, but if you feel uncomfortable, just call out to me, okay?" Her voice carries a hint of worry, yet remains soothing. You nod, squeezing her hand in acknowledgment. With Alexia's gentle assistance, you carefully turn onto your back, feeling her steady presence beside you, providing comfort and strength in this vulnerable moment.

As your team's medics finally arrive, they are momentarily shocked by the sight of all the blood, unsure of what to do. Alexia quickly signals to her team's medics for assistance. "Por favor, ayúdenla," she pleads worriedly, and they swiftly get to work. "They will put their hands on you to examine, okay?" Alexia gently squeezes the hand she's holding.

"Okay," you reply, feeling insecure and embarrassed despite knowing you shouldn't.

"It's going to be okay," she reassures you, squeezing your hand softly once more, her presence a comforting anchor amidst the chaos.

"Necesita ir al hospital para que le quiten unas férulas de vidrio" a medic tells alexia after they checked you for a second. They can't do much unfortunately.

You find yourself wincing in pain, the Spanish words barely registering in your mind. "What did they say?" you manage to ask your girlfriend, your voice strained with discomfort. She looks at you with gentle concern and translates, "They're going to place you on a stretcher and take you to the hospital to remove the glass splinters and stitch you up."

Grateful for her honesty, you nod slowly, trying to process the impending ordeal. "Will you be there?" you inquire, a hint of insecurity creeping into your voice. Her response is immediate and reassuring, "Sí, mi amor," she says softly, her words like a soothing balm to your frayed nerves.

As the realization sinks in that the match will be delayed for further inspection of the incident, you feel a mix of frustration and relief. But in this moment, with your girlfriend's unwavering support, you find solace amidst the chaos.

Lying on the stretcher, you feel the tape pressing against your skin, a feeble attempt to staunch the bleeding from the wound. A blanket is draped over you, shielding you from prying eyes and preserving whatever dignity remains in this moment of vulnerability. Your girlfriend hovers beside you, her worry etched across her face like a deep furrow.

When the paramedics inform her that she can't accompany you in the ambulance, her expression shifts to one of dismay. "I'm going to mi mami, and we'll drive right behind you, okay, amor?" she assures you, her voice a blend of reassurance and determination. Despite the separation, her promise brings a flicker of comfort, knowing that she'll be close by every step of the way.

As the ambulance speeds away, Alexia dashes towards her mother, sister, and uncle who are still seated in the stadium, their faces etched with confusion and concern. "We have to go to the hospital," she blurts out urgently, her heart racing with worry as she vaults over the barriers to reach them, having already informed her coach of the situation.

"Más despacio, hija, ¿qué pasó?" Eli's voice quivers with anxiety, her maternal instincts kicking into overdrive the moment you went down. She craves answers, needing to understand what happened to you in the blink of an eye.

Tears brim in Alexia's eyes as she recounts the harrowing incident, her emotions finally breaking through the facade of composure she had been desperately trying to maintain. "I don't know how, but there was glass on the field, and it cut right through her. We need to go now," she chokes out between sobs, her voice trembling with fear and frustration.

Alba, noticing Alexia's very distressed state pulls her into a fierce side hug, enveloping her in a comforting embrace, while their mother and uncle join in, their solidarity a soothing balm to Alexia's frayed nerves.

In those precious moments of shared warmth and support, the chaos of the situation momentarily fades into the background as they rally together to bolster Alexia's spirits.

After a few calming breaths and reassuring words exchanged between them, they rally into action, rushing towards the waiting car, their united resolve driving them forward as they prepare to face whatever lies ahead at the hospital.

[bronx-bomber87]

Good Evening wonderful fandom :) Episode 2 already! Thank you to everyone who liked, commented or reblogged last weeks first impressions. Makes my entire day when get any one of those. Excited to delve into ep 2. Let's get started shall we?

7x02 The Watcher

The vast contrast between Lucy and Tim is no secret. But it always cracks me up. Lucy telling Celina she almost washed out with her PCD BUT reminding her Nolan is not Tim. (No he is not..) That he won’t mess with her head. Then we have Tim telling Nolan to do as such. LMFAO God I love these fools. How I’ve missed you so. That Sunshine x Grumpy at it's finest.

Nolan being sassy saying he’s not Tim. You very much are not good sir. You are correct there. Bringing up how Tim almost washed out Lucy and she's a great cop. (Like he could ever forget either of those things John...) Tim instantly correcting him. Saying the key being he’s exceptional and Nolan is well Nolan lol. Oh I’ve missed cocky Tim. haha Now we all know one of the reasons Lucy didn’t, was because she had broken down a small chunk of his wall. Forever the exception is his girl.

He refused to let her fail despite being a hard ass. Love that episode. One of my all time favs. Tim isn’t wrong though, Nolan is being evaluated as well. Something i'm sure he hadn't thought of tbh. As good is Celina is she’s no Lucy. Sorry Celina love ya haha Lucy continuing to be her sunshine self never ceases to amaze me. Saying a T.O. doesn’t have to play mind games to create an amazing cop. You know for Lucy I truly believe that’ll work. Because she can balance being a good leader and a kind one. Idk what works for Nolan. Blind luck?

Lucy is needing to crush Tim in this competition of theirs. It’s very much a necessary win for her. Especially after last season. Like I said in 7x01. I think T.O. will build her confidence back up. Winning this competition with Tim is going to do that. In spades really. Celina acting all innocent saying it’s about T.O. styles this competition? That's it?

Oh honey no haha I mean a little but it’s bottom of the barrel of WHY. Harper and Lopez appear out of nowhere. Saying it’s about the breakup. I mean how could it not be? For Tim it's the best way he can feel connected to her without crossing any lines. Because he knows she has all the power to dictate his presence in her life. Something he touched on in 6x10. Allowing him to be in her life in whatever small doses she allows. This is one of them. Since they can't be what they once were this is the closest he can get right now.

Lucy of course deflects the breakup comment. Saying it’s not about that. That they had friendly competition long before they dated. Ha ‘friendly’ is that what we’re calling your numerous work flirts my girl? Back to denial it seems. S4 vibes once again. Pushing down dem feelings till they don’t pop back up again. That always works right? Worked real well in s4... The fact that she needs to add professional to their 'friendly' bets they've had before says it all for me. Replying she is so over the break up. Uh huh. Sure you are…Mmhmm….Yep. ‘It’s just that.’ Whatever you need to tell yourself my friend.

Seth is late and of course Tim is right on it. Because he wouldn't be him if he didn't tbh. Calling her Chen. I love and hate it. Just means we’re gonna have to really earn that first ‘Lucy’ he utters back. Well Tim is….Oh Seth you are just giving Tim reasons to give Lucy a hard time. Which he immediately does. Asking her, during roll call, when Ridley eventually rolls in, what excuse is acceptable for being late? Lucy replying there isn’t one.. Starting in the loss column. It sucks.

Ooooh bad ass-no nonsense Lucy T.O. I AM HERE FOR IT. Hot damn. When she slammed on the breaks I literally said 'Get em Lucy!' Just because she isn’t Tim doesn’t mean she won’t lay down the law. She and I are so alike in our leadership style. Said this many times before but it just continues to be true. I love it. She's calm, empathetic and kind in her teaching. But if you give reason to take advantage of that then the claws come out to remind you respect is key.

The law will be laid down for that. So proud of her. I know she doesn’t want to be that kind of T.O. But it’s good to have a little Tim in your style so that respect is there. Otherwise you’re kind of a doormat. I loved her laying down the boundary of yes I'm kind. Yes I'm empathetic but respect is still something to be expected. I love watching her grow in this regard. I really do.

Oh my lord Texas is a walking lawsuit. Tim shaking his head while he stick his head up his ass is too funny. It's like he wants to be in trouble constantly with Tim. lol First the premiere and now flirting with a civilian. Tim isn't wrong he could get sued if that flirting goes badly. Stuck with a complaint that could bounce him.

It's going to be interesting to see how he rights this ship. Because with Aaron he had balls with Tim but the dynamic was much different. Aaron had proved himself somewhat before getting there. Where as Texas started there. Should be fun to watch him develop. He has a lot of potential as a character.

Ridley is starting to thrive a little under Lucy. This moment above proving that. Showing you can have empathy and build rapport with the public. He gets this great reply from the man above due to that. It's a very positive interaction and Lucy rewards him for it. I love it.

I hope Lucy wins this whole thing. I really do. God she needs it. I love my Timothy. You all know I would fight to death for him, but Lucy needs this more. I wanna see her win so badly after last year. If this is part of her healing too I'm all for it.

Sadly Seth takes a massive nosedive down. Ahhh training it’s not the for faint of heart. I know it all too well. Been training people for years. Lucy looks so frustrated and I don’t blame her. He fumbled the task pretty badly….Grey just TEARS Ridley a new asshole holy cow. Doesn't hold back in the least with this kid. Lucy stoic by his side. Can’t even look at him. Because she is taking on his failures as her own. Which is why I think she is surprised Grey doesn't tear her one too.

He is much kinder with Lucy than I expected as well. Maybe because I still take my people's failures as my own too. She answers how I would’ve when asked about Seth. Potential with it being too early to tell. Because it is too early. Now for me it’s the learning from failures I see as progress.

You’re afforded a mistake with me; it’s the repeat mistakes of that same issue that start to become a problem. We will see how this kid course corrects during this season. And how Lucy will direct him. It’ll be fascinating to watch.

Of course Tim is right there to gloat about her rookie screwing up. LOL Do we expect anything less during this competition of their's? Now he gives her some damn solid advice to follow up. Letting her know his failures aren't her fault. At least not in the very beginning. That these failure need to be used as teachable moments. Somewhat touching on what I said before. Mistakes are ok at first its learning from them I want to see. To take the failures and use it to make them better.

Lucy is getting legit gold from Tim in this moment. The only person he would share it with I guarantee you. You think he's sharing nuggets of wisdom like that with Nolan? No he isn't. Forever the exception this one. Lucy saying him being enlightened giving me flashback vibes to s1. When she first got a glimpse into this side of him. Saying something very similar to him then.

Their chemistry never ceases to astound me. Adoring the flirty flirts and her smile as he walks away. Love these idiots so much. Yeah you're so over it Lucy. lol Just look at her as he departs. My goodness. She's a ten but terrible at hiding her feelings.

Tim finds Texas just like I knew he would. Can't wear a giant, tent-like bag to work and not make him suspect something is up, my man. Damn Timothy just ripping this kid a new one. It's rough to watch But can’t say I don’t think all of those things when i saw him living in his car…That he's exposed, his car could be stolen, broken into and his service weapon stolen. All very bad things that would get him terminated.

Doesn't help he is financially destitute making him more of a liability to the station. Tim isn't wrong in the least about what problems this poses. He is brutal in his final line absolutely brutal. But he's hoping it'll motivate him to find something better than car. This scene once again showing Lucy was the exception. A running theme in this one for me at least.

This was Tim as a T.O. pre-Lucy. No nonsense whatsoever. She was the ONLY one to get him to soften. To break through. So much so I do believe it bled over to his time with Aaron as well. But this kid is square one for Tim. He has to shape him up or he's not going to make it. Also excited to see where his journey goes this season with Tim.

This sucks for Seth there is no two ways about it. This kid seems to be going through a lot. Has been through a lot as well. But she just had a convo about leaving personal stuff at the door. To focus on his job. Now I couldn't be a cop and do that. I went into a tailspin yesterday at work over a form. It was a government one couldn't see till I got home cause couldn't log in. It distracted me and mine is very much not life and death like his is.

Lucy is wanting to be empathetic, but also knowing she needs to still to be guiding him. Ultimately she is responsible for his safety. Letting him know as such. That he can't keep stuff bottled up like this or it'll be destructive like it already has been. It's fun to watch her navigate this.

I know her gut instinct is to be empathetic and understanding. Which she is. But she also has standards she has to set and hold him to. It's fascinating watching her learning to balance all that. It'll fun to rewatch this in the summer with a much different POV on her T.O. time.

Goodness they’re cute af at the food truck area. Also love this environment being re-introduced. Feels very s1 and I'm here for it. Lucy being baffled by the mistakes of her rookie. Nolan's comment about Nyla was spot on. I can't say didn't do the same as he did. When I got into management and started training people, I apologized to my leader for all the crap and heartache I had caused her as a newbie ha Cracks me up how baffled Lucy is by the mistakes being made.

Tim reminding her rookies don't have common sense LOL Love them continuing this work flirt in front of Nolan. I will say any time their relationship is referred to in the past tense I die a little inside lol No joke. It hurts my soul. I know we're working our way back, but I would be lying if I said it didn't give me a pang of sadness in my stomach.

Maybe this was just me but they were a little saucy. Well Lucy was. Saying whatever gratitude was owed to Tim was paid off while they were dating heh. Was I the only one found that suggestive as hell? LOL I enjoyed it very much if that was the intention. Either way just straight flirting in front of Nolan with no cares in the world. Makes me happy. Look at those dopes above towards the end. Telling smiles. All damn day.

If you wanted to know what continued healing looks like it’s this people. This is going to be a slow climb to get to the top again. They are starting from scratch in so many ways. I mean when Nolan leaves Tim is a little nervous. You can hear it in his voice as he compliments her boot. Who very much did anything but 'Ok.' today. Especially if he was compared to Tim Bradford standards. But this is his connection to her like I said earlier. He misses what they had before. That instant ease and rapport. He misses her.

It's up to him to put the effort in now. To remain in her orbit should she allow him to be there. Which she currently is. They're going to have to be this chill casual vibe to climb their way back to where they were. Going back to their roots is the way to do it. So it's organic and natural. Lucy isn't as open as he is and that's ok. She isn't there yet. Doesn't want to talk about Seth in depth. Deflects back to his rookie instead. This is going to be a slow endeavor to reconciliation.

I don't know everyone's expectation for where they should be right now. But I'm pretty happy with the first two episodes. They have to start over and this is going to be a slow ramp up. Saw something it said 'Good things take time and often, the waiting makes the getting all the sweeter. ' Once we get there going to be so damn sweet. Till then I'm going to enjoy whatever comes our way with them.

As always thank you to every amazing person who interacts with these. Makes my heart so happy. Appreciate any likes, comments (I love me some comments. Feel free to share any first impressions you have to), and reblogs. you all make this worth doing every week :) Shall see you all in 7x03!

~~~~

Side notes non Chenford

Yay some James and Harper. They cute. Ha she is funny LOL They are having so issues for sure. Going to have to take a page out of Wopez's book to balance that all. That's stressure.

Nolan trying to rub wearing Civvies in Harper and Lopez’s faces and their reply is primo. Maybe focus on your boot there Nolan LMAO

Hot damn Celina look at her critiquing Nolan holy shit. Then Harper and Lopez reinforcing he did her wrong. Kinda nice to see him mess up and be called out for it not gonna lie. Humanizes him. Loved Nyla’s response’ if you want her to succeed, have to give her the room to fail.’ It’s accurate af for leadership. *mic drop*

I will say I watched 7x03 promo and Bailey was in it and I legit forgot she was missing. Till she was in a damn promo. Sure Jenna is lovely to work with and a good person but my god is her character forgettable. Also it makes Nolan more likable IMO when she isn't there. She has zero impact on this show. Sorry Jenna lol.

[hamburgerhelpersotherhand]

Infatuation Rewritten - Chapter 1

Joe Goldberg x Reader (ft. Love Quinn)

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Summary: Love's longtime friend moves back to LA. Fortunately, Joe (Will) never had too much trouble adapting (Season 2).

Warnings: Alcohol consumption (we're all adults here), Joe actually loses his mind a little at the end.

Now for something nobody expected! The long-awaited rewrite for Infatuation... I have 40 pages of this, by the way. I'd like for *some* of them to see the light of day... and so I've told myself: If I wait for it to be perfect, It'll never be posted. I hope you all enjoy, and feel free to share your thoughts! xoxo Ona

My eyes roamed the list of names by the front door of the apartment complex. There were about four total, so finding yours was the easiest part. The hardest step came in the form of mustering up the courage to press the buzzer. But, was it really a trouble with courage? The more I thought, as my finger hovered over the button, the more I began to consider it to be uncertainty.

I pause and reach my other hand into my pocket. My fingers slide across the screen of your phone, and I remind myself why I'm here. Simply put, I’m here to give you your phone back. I found it on the passenger’s seat of my car and almost thought to tell Love… Instantly, a part of me knew she would’ve pried it from my grip to give to you herself – and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity for us to speak again, this time unmonitored by her perceptive gaze and sharp ears… and without the alcohol in your system.

Last night, you clung to Love as she touched you tenderly, playing the role of your dutiful sober saviour. She hosted a dinner and she invited her friends. One of them was you.

“A good friend,” She had called you. The last she’d spoken to you was ten years ago, and I guess I hadn’t realized good friends stay out of reach for a decade at a time. It didn’t matter how much time had split you two apart, though, because Love embraced you with a warm smile and open arms. There wasn’t any malice, no judgement either. She was just happy to have you back in her life. When you got too drunk to take public transportation, Love tried to coax you into staying the night. You wouldn’t budge, even with a slipping tongue, fluttering eyes, and a head too heavy to stay upright. So she compromised: you let her coddle you, sober you up just enough, and I drove you home. It wasn’t even that late, Love just couldn't stop pouring you wine after wine after wine. You seemed like you needed it, though. Tense as you were. Pent up little thing.

“What’s your relationship like with Love?” I asked, feeling rather bold with your inebriated self. The image of her hand resting on your thigh flashed in my mind. I laughed. “She hadn’t mentioned you until you’d moved back to LA. She practically can't shut up about you now.”

You shifted in your seat like a child. No position in my car seemed comfortable for you, and you had made it more than obvious.

“She’s a good friend.” You responded and looked out the window like it meant something. Love had said the same thing — I believed you both — but I felt as though you were withholding something else from the conversation. The annoying bell on your purse jingles as you tuck it closer to your side.

“You two seem close. Should I be concerned?” I then asked teasingly, laughing to fill the awkward tension of a silent car ride. I wanted to spark something in you, but you brushed it off as you curled your arms around your waist.

“I think I had too much to drink…” I glanced at you, and I was suddenly nervous. Your coat was askew, hanging off your shoulders. I knew you were drunk, but your direct announcement sounded to me as a warning.

“Tell me if you need to throw up, okay?” You slowly nodded before slotting your forehead against the cool car window. We remained like that until you got home, choosing to stumble your way for a block to feel a semblance of privacy – but I watched you walk up those steps. I knew your building, and you were still too fucked up to realize.

I pull your phone out of my pocket and look it over one more time. My thumb runs over the plastic case before turning it around and looking at myself in the black reflection.

Your phone is dead. Has been since I found it. None of my chargers fit into the port, unsurprisingly. It’s one of those phones where the keyboard slides out, for Pete's sake. Your phone is more than a few generations old. A brick. I chewed my fingers raw trying anything I could to get it started again – I wanted to pry, really. I’ll be honest with you here, I really wanted this glimpse into your personal affairs.

I wondered, exasperatedly, about what you were hiding behind this screen. Clutching it tighter into my palm, I lift my free hand and press the buzzer.

A few long moments after the sound, I hear a click.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Y/N. It’s Will –” I begin to say, ready to explain myself in the same manner I had rehearsed at home, eating breakfast, in the car, and on my way up the steps. However, you cut me off immediately.

“Do you have my phone?”

My heart skips a beat and I’m momentarily stunned. I blink a few times before speaking.

“Yeah, actually.” I replied. “I found it on the passenger seat this morning, I guess I didn't see it when I got home last night.”

“I’m going to buzz you in.” Perfect.

After hearing the buzzer, the door clicked. I made my way inside. The stairs were wooden and creaky, the walls showing obvious water damage, and the lights hummed obnoxiously. Obviously, none of this was of your doing. Your landlord just didn’t care.

Your door’s paint was chipping off, revealing the cracked wooden layer underneath, but the rusted numbers on your door somehow looked worse. I knocked.

I heard the shuffling of your feet from behind the door before it opened. When your head peeked out, you gave me a smile and extended your hand.

I momentarily look at it, thinking… Right. I drop your phone into your awaiting palm. I almost thought you wanted me to reach out as well. That would’ve been too good, right?

“May I use your bathroom?” I ask.

Your mouth opens momentarily, as you look away and off to the side. There’s nothing there, you’re simply thinking it through and disappearing into your head again.

“Sure.” You then reply, reluctantly scooting back and giving me my first glimpse into your apartment.

If only you knew how ecstatic I was to slip through the crack of your front door. My heart thumps excitedly, as I waste no time looking around. By the door sits a coat hanger with a few pairs of shoes around its feet.

“Should I take off my boots?” I ask.

“Yeah, actually. I’d appreciate it.”

I untie the laces and slip them off my feet. Then, just as I drop them by the coat hanger, you beckon me to follow.

Your apartment is a fair size, with one large space making up both the kitchen and the living room. Right of the front door, a short hallway leads us to a room. As you continue past the door, I slow myself and look to my left. Your hallway has a little louvred closet, and I can’t help but reach out and open it. There’s nothing exciting inside, only white bed sheets.

“The bathroom is over here.” I suddenly hear you say from within the bedroom. I close the closet and hurry along, hesitantly making my way into your room.

I examine the layout of your furniture: your bed is made, your dresser tucked away in the corner, your desk by the window, and your small bookcase right by its side. I take another look toward your window: It overlooks the front of the building, I think. I want to look around more, but I’ve already entered an uncomfortable silence through this simple observation… you’re bound to find it weird. Hell, you’re already finding it weird – my being here – if your reluctance to me using your bathroom is anything to go by.

“Thanks.” I tell you, nodding in your direction and scooting by to enter the bathroom. I peer over my shoulder, however, and take another peek into your bedroom before shutting the door.

In the bathroom, I made my way to the toilet and listened to your shuffling from the other side of the door. I lifted the seat without paying much attention, and stilled when I heard you leave the bedroom entirely. I didn’t really need to go to the bathroom, but I wasn’t lying when I said I needed to use it.

I waited a moment, lowered the toilet seat again, and didn’t bother flushing or washing my hands. The sound could set you off that I was finished, and I definitely wasn’t finished. I needed the opportunity to snoop just a tad bit more. I unlocked and creaked the bathroom door open, observing the quiet room with more attention than I had before.

Stepping out of the bathroom, I leave the door open. My head snaps in the direction of your bedroom door and I pleasantly find it shut from the rest of your apartment. You’re making this too easy. I make my way around quietly, being careful with my steps as I approach your nightstand with a familiar object glinting in the natural sunlight of the room: your phone, on its charger. When I press the button on its side, the logo appears as it powers on.

I take the time needed for the phone to boot up as an excuse to look about your room. The bookcase, which I had only glanced at before, takes shape infront of me. My hand drifts along the spines of the books… and I feel unsatisfied. You have a small selection of kitschy modern romance novels. My judging eyes shift to your dresser, the framed pictures sitting on top catching my attention. I don't recognize anyone, but a weird feeling washes over me. You’re not in any of these pictures. I feel a… disconnection… from the room. My eyes move elsewhere and I catch sight of a few unopened cardboard boxes against the wall near the bedroom door. They’re folded. Unused. I wonder briefly as I look back down to your phone. It’s open.

Unlocking it was easy, no password. You know, the good thing about an older cellphone model is how easy it is to just… get in. I flip your phone over and pop the back right off. I slide the chip out of my pocket and right into place. Once everything is back in its place, I unlock your phone and fully install the hardware. As much as I would like to start snooping about your phone now, I close it and set it back down on your nightstand. I make my way back into the bathroom, pulling my phone out all the while. I open the freshly installed app and bite at my lip as I see the device sync up. Done.

I flush the toilet, wash my hands, and make my way out of the bedroom. When I step back into your living room kitchen, you’re seated at the short island, your back to the small living room.

“Thanks for letting me use your bathroom,” I say, making my way back to the front door. You swivel the chair as I walk by and watch me duck for my boots.

“Thanks for bringing me my phone. I was almost going to head out to Anavrin–”

“Oh, I don’t work Saturdays. You would’ve missed me entirely.” I say all matter-of-factly, like an asshole. You shrink.

“Noted.”

As I loop the laces around, I look up at you. Your brows knit together and you avert your eyes from me. I watch you for another moment, smiling to myself. You’re nervous.

“What’re all the boxes for?” I ask, looking around the apartment. They’re a little sprawled out everywhere, but most of them are still folded up. I chew my cheek as I wonder – are you packing up to leave already? You just got here not even a week ago. Is that what’s gotten you so nervous? Cause I caught you? I bite my tongue and choose to rephrase my thoughts. “Still unpacking?”

“No, It’s… complicated.” You respond.

I nod my head and stand. Your eyes fleet to me for a second before drawing away. Is it me, Y/N? Am I making you nervous?

“Thank you again, for my phone.” You mumble, drifting off somewhere. I smile wide, and huff. You’re not a threat. A pest, likely. But not a threat.

“Yeah, no problem.”

I’m out the door not a moment later, spinning my keys while on the way to my car.

—

Back at my apartment, I notice the door’s unlocked.

I'm cautious as I walk through the threshold, peering ahead only to notice Love behind the counter.

“Love, I didn’t expect you to break into my apartment.” I tease, taking off my boots and shedding my jacket.

“I thought you’d be home,” she whines. “Besides, it’s not breaking in when you’ve got a key.”

I make my way into the kitchen, to her side, and slip my hands around her waist. She turns her head to look at me, a big smile on her face.

“Where were you?” She mumbles, still looking down at the counter.

“I went over to Y/N’s apartment,” I began, rolling the hem of her shirt between my fingers. “She forgot her phone in my car last night.” I kiss her shoulder.

“Mmh,” Love hums. “That was nice of you.”

I look over her shoulder, noticing the restaurant brochures infront of her.

“What were you doing here?”

“Looking for something to order. I don’t really want to cook again tonight.”

I lift my hands off her hips, placing them on either side of the counter. I press forward, and slide one of the menus into view.

“This one seems good.” I whisper, inconsiderate of what I’m pointing to. I’ve got one thing on my mind right now, and it isn’t the brochures.

Catching onto my carelessness, Love turns around and faces me. She tilts her head and observes my face for a moment before sliding her arms around my neck.

“How did it go?” Love suddenly inquires about us again.

“It went well,” I tell her, keeping it short. Still, she pries.

“Tell me more,”

“Well, she showed me to her bathroom,” I look around, as though I was recalling the few minutes I stood in your apartment. I’ll keep the snooping to myself. “Aaand, that’s about it.”

Love thins her lip. She’s pensive for a moment. She thinks, and I watch her grapple with her thoughts as she looks about the kitchen. She clears her throat before speaking.

“Will,” She starts, her hand taps my chest and I watch it circle around. “I wouldn’t be asking you this if it wasn’t important, but… can you do me a huge favour?”

My hands find Love’s face, cupping her cheeks, and pressing her forehead to mine. My eyes search hers, and I pout.

“Anything for you,” I tell her. Anything.

“Forty has this thing tomorrow… I didn’t think ahead, and my plans are jumbled. But, this is really important.”

For a second, my stomach drops. I try not to let the horror show on my face as I’m convinced she’s about to glue me to Forty’s side for a day. But she continues.

“Y/N needs help clearing the apartment,” My eyes narrow, and I nod as I continue to listen. “You see… Will. It isn’t really my place to say this, but I thought you should know her mom passed away a few months ago. She’s been trying to sort through the estate, and they finally gave her the green light to clear out her old apartment. I can’t be there to help.”

Love’s hands slide over mine, cupping my fingers as I cup her cheeks.

“Are you free sometime tomorrow? Would you be able to help her out?”

With this revelation, the framed pictures sitting on the dresser make sense.

“I mean… yeah. I can do that.”

Love lights up at my response, hopping up for an intimate kiss. My hands fall to her ass, but she pulls away too soon. Always too soon.

“Thank you, Will,” She grins, tapping my chest again. “I’ll let her know.”

As Love pulls out her phone, I watch her tap away at the screen.

“You know, that entire complex looks unlivable. The place might have a rodent problem, too.” I say as she hits send.

“I know! I told her she could stay with me,” Love leans her head against my chest with a frustrated huff, slipping her phone onto the counter.

“You both already spend so many afternoons together,” I begin, sliding her head up to look at me. My fingers brush her cheek, and my next words come out hushed. “If she was around any more, I’d never have you to myself.”

Her eyes flutter as my hands brush baby hairs out of her face. I hum, and lean in for another kiss.

“Will,” she starts, pressing her palm into my chest. She pushes me back, and I let her. “I’m not in the mood right now. Is that alright?”

I purse my lips… a little agitated, but I understand. I’m in the mood, but I understand. She doesn’t want to have sex, she wants to talk about you.

“Of course, Love,” I kiss her cheek. “Some other time.”

With a smile, she returns her attention to those stupid brochures. I agree to whatever she wants, whatever she’s in the mood for. I always do.

Once dinner’s sorted, we pair it with a movie on my tv. We cuddle, and it’s nice. During an intimate scene, a quiet one with rustling bedsheets, Love decides to speak.

“I’m glad you’re getting along well with Y/N.” She says with a hum, rubbing her face into my chest. I grunt when her hand squeezes my knee. “She appreciates it too, I know it. She doesn’t know many people in the city anymore.”

I tear my eyes away from the sex on tv to look Love in the eyes.

“Are you doing anything tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I have that thing with Forty. Someone seems a little forgetful tonight” I laugh and apologize, scolding myself. Of course… Tomorrow. I did forget. She turns her attention back to the movie. When I reluctantly return my own attention to the screen, I can’t help but scrutinise everything I see. Love seems pleased, watching the protagonist and her girlfriend lounge after what felt like the most drawn-out fucking I’d ever witnessed on tv. She’s probably thinking to herself: what a nice couple, happy, in love, and all tuckered out. But I feel differently. I see something I’m missing. We could be them, Love and I. But, instead of being wrapped in each other with more to do than to SAY, I think about the brick phone, I think about the lunch dates, I think about the selfishness of only reaching out when things became convenient, and I think about YOU. I think about the rust on your door, think about your dead mom, I think about how Love wants me to help you pack her things – like I’m some tool to be borrowed and Love’s the kind neighbour willing to lend – and I think about how Love touches you and I can’t help but wish I could crawl into your skin and rip you up from the inside.

The bell on your bag rings in my ears, jingling as you tap it over, and over again. Should I feel threatened by you? Because I do, even when everything about you proves to me you’re no threat at all. You’re meek, small, pathetic. Despite it all, you’ve stepped into my yard, trampled the very bushes I’ve trimmed and watered to perfection, and made yourself cozy against the love of my life. And, like a call to battle, the bell stirs something in me.

But you’re innocent, I cry in my head. You’re not Peach. You’re no evil mastermind, and stepping into someone else’s yard doesn’t mean much when you’re a helpless rabbit. Your mom is dead, you’re grieving. I think about you, in my car, curled in on yourself, skin exposed. Scared. I grit my teeth at the thought.

When Love departs, just after the movie ends, I spend some time catching up on your messages. That’s all I can really do, actually. With such an old model, your system doesn’t allow access to anything, anywhere, anytime. Just the text messages. I scroll to find your mention of me dropping by earlier.

‘Left my phone in Will’s car. He dropped it off.’

‘He’s the best <3’ Love responded.

About twenty minutes after that, Love let you know I’m replacing her tomorrow.

‘We can reschedule.’ You tried, but Love tells you the plans are already made. You can’t run from this. Neither can I.

I recline on my couch, huffing as I read as far as your messages go. I couldn’t get the older logs but anything you send from here on out, I have access to. When the late hours of the night finally catch up to me, I look out my window at the flickering street lights, and I head to bed.

[warping-realities]

Bed and Breakfast

"I can't believe you're going to make me stay in a place like that." Said the beautiful woman with an arrogant tone towards her companion. Without realizing that she was being heard by the owner of the small and cozy coastal inn.

"Babe, calm down, the place is really nice and seems to be very comfortable. And it's highly rated on travel sites. We'll be lucky if there's room for us here."

"We wouldn't have to go through this if you had booked a hotel in advance."

"Laura, love. You decided on a trip to a fashionable place at the last minute during high season, there was no vacancy and yet you insisted on coming."

"Of course, everyone important is here, what do you think my followers would say if I didn't come. An influencer has to be aware of all the trends, Jeremy and this is the place of the moment, only God knows why." Laura replied, making her boyfriend let out a sigh before being prevented from responding by a cheerful and jovial voice.

"Good night, I'm Cintia, owner of Cozy Cabin, welcome, how can I help you?"

"Good evening, ma'am. My name is Jeremy Grant, and this is my fiancée, Laura. We are looking for accommodation."

"Oh dear! I'm sorry, but we're all booked up, reservations have been closed for over two months, we've become a very popular place lately." The woman of indecipherable age responded, because at the same time that she showed signs of age, she had an aura of joy and youth around her, at that moment tainted by a genuine tone of sadness at not being able to help. Which turned into indignation and anger when the young, pretty blonde woman in front of him let out a dismissive giggle followed by a howl of reproach towards her fiancé. However, before Cintia could say anything, Jeremy quickly intervened.

"Isn't there really the slightest possibility Cintia? It would only be for one day so that Laura can take some photos and post them, she is a digital influencer."

"Really? I've never heard of you darling." Cintia said, taking advantage of the moment to repay the young woman's rudeness, who in turn couldn't stand to remain silent.

"I work with a young audience, it's understandable if someone your age doesn't know me." Laura replied, causing Jeremy to have a mortified expression and a dangerous glint to appear in Cintia's eyes.

"Ah, believe me, I know how to recognize an influencer with an impact, right now we are hosting Miguel Ramos, the famous fitness influencer, it is already the fifth year that he has visited us at this time. Which gives me a wonderful idea to solve the your problem. If you'll excuse me for a moment, I'll be back with news soon."

"Stupid rag" Laura commented bitterly as soon as Cintia left the room.

"Baby, you provoked..."

"Don't stand against me, Jeremy. How she dare, compare me to that fairy Miguel Ramos!"

"Laura, be careful what you say, I've heard a lot about Miguel Ramos, he was already a very respected Personal Trainer before becoming a popular fitness influencer and has a good follower base."

That was a huge understatement and they both knew it. While Laura's number of followers had not yet reached hundreds of thousands, Miguel's already surpassed the million barrier. And of course the vain woman didn't like being reminded of that and soon found a reason to tease her fiancé.

"Jeremy, that stubble of yours looks horrible, how many times have I told you to keep your face smooth! My followers prefer you to complement my look!"

Jeremy didn't know if that was true, Laura's followers really praised how much they complemented each other in appearance. But he couldn't help but occasionally wonder if the fact that Laura made him wear clothes in a similar style to hers, coupled with her insistence on keeping a smooth face and his blond hair in neat curls, resembled hers to the point where some people thinking that they were brothers and not a couple was a proof of a totally narcissistic nature as the class's detractors insisted on shouting. However, every time those thoughts arose, Jeremy quickly suppressed them, he had long ago accepted that he would be nobody without his girlfriend, to the point of giving up his career as a physical educator to follow her, ensuring all her wishes and canceling himself in every way. Because he was completely sure that he was not worthy of her love and that no one in the world would be able to love him like she did. It was precisely because he thought all of this that when he saw Cintia return with a look of satisfaction on her aged face, he responded calmly.

"Yes, love, that's the first thing I'll do as soon as we get to our room.”

"My dears, I found a solution, it's not perfect but it should help for today." Cintia began with a playful smile and that sparkle in her eyes. "We have a few rooms with extra beds that are not being occupied and two of our guests have kindly provided those beds to you for a couple of nights. In two days Mrs. Goldschmitt will return home and her room will be free if you wish." extend your stay."

"You mean you want us to stay in separate rooms?" Laura asked indignantly.

"It was the best I could do, dear. Of course, if it doesn't suit you, feel free to leave and look for accommodation elsewhere." Cintia replied with an icy smile.

"No, no, it's great, we accept!" Jeremy quickly interrupted, wanting to avoid more conflicts and the loss of the only stay they found.

"Great! Please follow me, then I'll ask one of the assistants to take your bags to your respective rooms." Cintia replied, looking genuinely pleased as she led them down a hallway and a flight of stairs to the first room and knocked on the door, which was promptly opened by a handsome Latino man in his thirties, with developed muscles detailed by a fitted white t-shirt and a friendly smile in his handsome bearded face.

"Goodnight." He said simply with a voice exuding masculinity.

"Miguel, dear. These are Jeremy and Lau..."

"You don't need to introduce me, I'm sure Miguel knows who I am." interrupted Laura while Miguel stared at her as if she were a creature that had jumped in front of him.”

"Laura... apparently she's a digital influencer." Cintia continued as if she had not been rudely interrupted. "Jeremy and Laura, this is Miguel Ramos who we talked about earlier and who kindly agreed to give Jeremy the extra bed in his room."

"Thank you for the lovely introduction Cintia and it's a pleasure to finally meet you in person Laura and you too Jer..." Miguel began, also being interrupted by Laura.

"I think our followers would love a collaboration from us."

"Um, sure, we can discuss this tomorrow, Laura. I believe you are both exhausted now and Cintia still has to take you to your room."

"Yes, yes, you're right, we'll arrange everything tomorrow. Shall we go then?" Laura ended talking to Cintia without even saying goodbye to Jeremy, who in turn approached his girlfriend and kissed her on the cheek.

"Good night love, sleep well!" - He said before entering the room and seeing his fiancée being taken by Cintia inside the building.

.....

"Welcome Jeremy, unfortunately you'll have to take the single bed."

"Thank you Miguel, you didn't need to do that or pretend to know Laura."

"Ahh, I'm sorry about that, but I thought it was better, I know how hurt some influencers can be by not being recognized, I've never particularly cared about that, but I've seen some uncomfortable situations to say the least. And as for the bed, It's just a bed, I'm not really using it and Cintia asked me for a favor, she's a great friend and was a lot of help when... anyway, you are welcome here.”

"Still, you didn't have to do any of that, thank you very much." Jeremy replied as he prepared to sleep, thinking about what Miguel had left to say. It was nothing new that his breakup with his long-time boyfriend, a famous film actor, had been very traumatic, so much so that he had remained out of the spotlight for several months until he was photographed on the beach close to where they were, which is why the interest in place had lit up. The only news there was knowing that he will not be staying in a luxurious hotel but in Cintia's small and cozy inn. Laura should be happy, Jeremy thought before falling asleep, she had gone to look for copper and apparently she had found gold.

Already lying in the single bed, Jeremy found the courage to say something else.

"Miguel, thank you really, I'm very grateful for your kindness... but... well... I apologize in advance if Laura expresses... um... any dissatisfaction with the accommodation arrangements... she's used to get what she wants and... well... there might be some kind of... jealousy... so..."

"She doesn't need to worry Jeremy, I'm not into man skinnier , smaller and younger than me." Miguel responded in a joking tone but causing Jeremy to immediately recoil.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you."

"You didn't offend me Jeremy, I was just joking, you can rest assured, in fact feel free in the room, as far as I'm concerned the room is as much yours as mine. Have a good night.”

…..

The morning sun invaded the inn's bedroom, causing Jeremy to turn over in bed and wake up, rubbing his eyes, being treated to a stunning image, Miguel wearing only white underwear, with his sculpted body on display, staring intently at the bedroom wall as if he was lost in reminiscences. At that moment Jeremy felt something he had never imagined he would feel when seeing another man, a pang of desire, accompanied by a familiar sensation in his dick that he only associated with when he saw the image of Laura in her naked beauty. His surprise at that was so great that he moved abruptly, causing Miguel to wake up from his reverie.

"Good morning, I'm sorry if I woke you up, I forgot to close the curtains last night."

"No problem." Jeremy replied, hiding his erection with a pillow.

"Anyway, I'm already on my way out, going for my morning run before breakfast."

“Oh man, I miss doing that!” Commented Jeremy.

"Do you have this habit too?"

"Yes, I was a physical educator just like you, but since I started following Laura... she's not a morning person and gets upset when I wake her up early... anyway, I've been running on the treadmill while she makes the videos her at the gym."

"If you want to train with me..."

"Nah, man, thanks, but no. I'm going to rest a little longer" Jeremy replied, still hiding his erection.

"Then I'll see you later. Sweet dreams." Said an already fully dressed Miguel leaving the room and Jeremy alone with his disconcerting thoughts.

…….

To say that the trip had been a disppointment to Laura would be a huge understatement. First Jeremy hadn't been able to make a simple reservation and even had the nerve to blame her when he should have been able to foresee this kind of thing, then there was the beach itself, she had never liked sun and sea, and only Thinking about sand made her skin itch, but unfortunately, thanks to Miguel Ramos' stellar divorce and his apparent bad taste, that little beach was the star's hot spot for the summer. Ending up in the same inn as him could be a golden opportunity, but for that she had to put up with the arrogant old woman who owned the place, the fact that her fiancé was sleeping in the same room as that fagot and the annoying roommate she that she was sure it had been chosen by the old ghoul with the only intention of irritating her. And it was with a look that reflected her inner bitterness that she waited for her fiance to appear for breakfast, which made her even more indignant, as she was not used to wait and at the same time she refused to call him. After all he should know his place and his duties!

It was with that sour face that Miguel found her after taking a shower and getting dressed as quietly as possible to avoid waking the still sleeping Jeremy. Upon seeing that expression, he seriously thought about escaping from the breakfast room without being seen, especially since he hadn't had a good initial impression of Laura, which was confirmed when he saw the type of content she produced, with Jeremy appearing as more of an accessory to her outfit than as a real boyfriend, which raised the suspicion that perhaps the other man was trapped in the type of abusive relationship that he himself had lived in until recently. But before he had time to escape, their eyes met and a practiced smile appeared on her face without reaching her predatory eyes. Knowing that game very well, Miguel plastered a smile as fake as hers on his own face and approached her table.

"Good morning, Miguel, I hope Jeremy's snoring wasn't disturbing." Laura said, starting the conversation in the worst possible way and making the smile disappear on Miguel's face.

"On the contrary, it didn't bother me at all, Noah snored a lot more." He replied, making a look of irritation momentarily cross Laura's face due to the comparison with his ex-husband. Wasn't it enough that her boyfriend was sleeping in the same room as him?

"You're very kind, but it's my fiancé you're talking about, no one knows him like I do."

"Of course, and if you allow me to say, seeing your posts on social media is possible to see all your influence on him." Miguel replied, barely hiding the sarcasm in his voice.

"Thank you. It was hard work." Laura responded in turn without realizing the criticism embedded in his comment. "Speaking of work, when are we going to do our collaboration?" She concludes.

"We'll certainly find a way." He responded in turn, knowing that as far as he was concerned, that would never happen. "If you'll excuse me now I have an appointment. Maybe you should check on Jeremy, when I left the room he was sound asleep. It seemed to me like he hadn't slept so well in a long time." He concludes with a bright and genuine smile before leaving the room, turning his back on a fuming Laura.

Although Miguel's statement was intended to provoke Laura, that was not far from the truth. Jeremy had slept as well as ever and didn't even wake up when Miguel returned to the room and got ready for breakfast. If he had woken up he would have been mortified, because in his sleep he ended up ripping off his pajama shirt, and without realizing it, he reached for his erection that had returned along with Miguel's presence in the room, while his mind filled itself. one of the most different and vivid dreams he had ever had. In the dream he found himself lying completely naked on a beach not very different from the one where the inn was located, and with the sun bathing his body a beautiful blonde woman approached and began kissing his naked body, he couldn't tell if was it Laura or not, because each kiss given in the dream made him feel an immeasurable ecstasy, strong enough to cover up any sense other than pleasure, so much so that he only realized that the figure in the dream had changed, becoming a muscular man and bearded with his dark body shining with sweat in the morning sun a few seconds before he was awakened by the indignant voice of his fiancée.

"Jeremy, so this is what you were doing instead of meeting me for breakfast? Masturbating in that queer's room? How disgusting!"

Said an indignant Laura when she found her boyfriend in that position. Jeremy, taken by surprise in turn, responded without thinking

"Never use that kind of word in my presence again Laura, if there's anything disgusting it's those expressions!"

"Jeremy, how dare you correct me! Disguting yes, and even more disgusting are the habits of these fagots, but apparently you're already quite used to it, right, jacking off in one of their bedrooms. And you didn't even shave that disgusting beard. As if not If you just cut your hair without talking to me, I'm at my limit!" She barked back, causing all the layers of inhibition to return to a now more awake Jeremy.

"I'm sorry, babe, I shouldn't have talked to you like that. Give me a few minutes to get ready and we can have breakfast together." He said, returning to his servile habits as he struggled to understand what she meant about his beard and hair.

"Well, you can have your breakfast alone. And you don't even need to come with me to the beach, I'll take Kayla to help me. Make the most of your day without my presence!" She replied angrily, leaving the room and a confused and still sleepy Jeremy behind.

He in turn stood up and stretched, losing his balance a little as he felt the strange sensation that he seemed to be a good few inches taller, which he knew was nonsense, since no one grows overnight other than the fact that that he had had that height since the beginning of his adult life, which had helped him in many volleyball and basketball games when he was younger. Other activities that he missed but couldn't find time in his day to practice. He had never resented Laura for these things, but deep down he couldn't help but feel an irritation at having given up virtually all of his interests for hers. Shaking his head in an attempt to get those intrusive thoughts out of him, he went to the bathroom and took a long shower, knowing that there was no point in looking for his girlfriend while she was in that mood, that poor Kayla, whoever she was, who would have to put up with Laura for that morning, he thought with uncharacteristic sarcasm as he soaped the six blocks set on his abdomen, this time without trying to shake that thought away. After getting out of the shower he looked at himself in the mirror, for someone who could no longer follow a strict exercise routine he looked very good, he was slim but defined and his short beard accentuated the angles of his face, framed by golden curls in a medium lenght haircut.

Maybe it was time for Laura to learn to better appreciate the boyfriend she had, he thought, leaving the bathroom without shaving, before changing and getting ready to enjoy a morning of sun and sea without Laura's constant complaints and orders, which without a doubt it was the best thing that could have happened, said a new invasive thought that once again did not go away.

……..

Jeremy wandered along the seawall for several minutes, feeling the sand beneath his feet, the scent of the sea breeze filling his lungs and the sun's rays bathing his fair skin, even though he knew he risked getting burned, it was too good for him let it go. After wandering for a long time he sat down on the beach and simply let himself be invaded by it all, with a wave of peace and completeness filling him. Without realizing that the longer he stayed there, the less white his skin became, turning to a golden summer tone, at the same time that his muscles expanded slightly, leaving him with the appearance of someone who trained frequently and carefully.

And there he would have continued without noticing the changes if he hadn't been interrupted by a familiar voice.

"Hey, roomie, watch out for a burn on your skin!"

Opening his eyes Jeremy found himself staring at Miguel in all his glory, with a happy smile plastered on his face.

"I may not have your Latin genes, Miguel. But it's been a long time since I've been burned!" He replied, smiling, as that strange feeling invaded him again.

"Still, the sun around here is much stronger than what you're used to. Let me help you." Miguel replied, approaching with a tube of sunscreen in his hands. "That is, if you don't mind."

Jeremy did care, not because of any prejudice, but because of the fear of what that closeness would make him feel, not to mention the erection that threatened to return. But at the same time he couldn't resist that proposal.

"No problem, I think you're exaggerating, but Laura will be unbearable if I burn myself, she already doesn't like my skin being so tanned."

"What nonsense, your skin is beautiful, that tan contrasts very well with your blonde hair, it gives you a healthy look, especially with those defined muscles."

"Thanks man, it's nice to hear a compliment from... hummm”. He groaned when he felt the other man's strong hands massaging his back.

"Something wrong?" Miguel asked.

"No... no... it's just that the sunscreen was cold."

"Ah, I'm done. Just a little more down here." Miguel said with his hands approaching Jeremy's buttocks and making him contract all over.

"Okay, do you want me to apply it in your front?"

"No, you don't need to, I'll do it myself." Jeremy quickly responded, taking the cock from Miguel's hand without even wanting to think about those manly hands near his cock.

"And where is Laura? I thought you helped with her content production."

Thinking about his girlfriend brought an unexpected wave of irritation to Jeremy, as if a cloud was blocking out the morning sun.

"We had an argument in the morning... in fact she did what she always does, said what she wanted and left me alone, I guess in the hope that I would go after her... but not this time... she might to fend for herself with her new friend." He responded with a certain bitterness that didn't go unnoticed by Miguel.

"Relationships can be complicated."

"Ours isn't, but I'm starting to think it's just because I'm used to canceling myself out in front of her."

Miguel, who had already noticed that, preferred not to comment anything.

"Anyway, we should see each other later and resolve this, I still love her of course, but some things will have to change in our relationship."

"So how about we do that run now, a little return to your old ways?"

"Are you sure you'll be able to keep up with me, with all this extra size and already running before..."

"Boy, respect me, I'm not one of the best known personal trainers in the world for nothing."

"Then we'll see!" Jeremy replied, getting up and running away.

……

Laura walked with disgust on the beach sand. Her morning, like the rest of that trip, had been dark. Kayla was pleasant company as she shared the same interests as her, although she was in a lower category with only a few tens of thousands of followers. Still, she expected Laura to return the favors she did by asking her to take photos and record videos of her. Simply unbearable. And it was all Jeremy's fault, obviously. She still couldn't believe that her worthless boyfriend hadn't come looking for her and even worse for the second time that day it was she who was forced to look for him in the middle of that damned sand.

It was with this feeling that she watched two muscular men running from the edge of the beach towards the sea while laughing loudly and then diving. A ridiculous and childish behavior in her opinion. So what was her surprise when she saw that one of those men, the tanned blonde with a haircut made up of a pompadour and a side fade, accompanied by a full beard just as blonde, smile and approach her with his tanned muscular body still moist from the sea water shining in the midday sun.

"Hey babe, how was the morning?"

"Jeremy, how dare you leave me like that! And that beard, you said you were going to trim it! And your hair??? What nonsense is this?"

"No nonsense Laura. They look the way I like!"

"But not in the way my followers and I expected! You're almost bald! That tan and those excessive muscles weren't enough!"

"Don't exaggerate Laura, and if I decide to shave all my hair I will. Your followers have nothing to do with how I decide to cut my hair or my beard."

"Of course it has to do with it, you're my boyfriend, you influence the way I'm perceived!"

"Apparently that's the only way I care about you, how I make others perceive you."

"And how would it be different, I make a living from this, I'm an influencer, and my boyfriend needs to agree with my branding."

"I'm not your accessory, Laura."

"Well, my dear, in the end it's as if you were!"

"So I don't know if I still want to continue this relationship." He replied, turning his back on an angry Laura.

"Jeremy! Don't you dare! Jeremyyyy....!" She shouted at the top of her lungs, but he didn't turn around and walked aimlessly towards the other side of the beach, followed by the watchful eye of Miguel Ramos.

…..

Jeremy wandered the beach for several minutes trying to calm the influx of thoughts. He was torn by the despair of losing the woman he believed he loved and the growing feeling of contempt for that same woman. How could he cancel himself out for so long, how could he not see who she was? And at the same time she had been his life for the last few years, how could he live without her? He certainly wouldn't be capable of that! Deciding to run back after her and humble himself by her forgiveness, he started running. Only stopping when he heard the voice did he start to associate that strange feeling, mixed with desire and comfort.

"Hey, Big Guy, what's the rush?" Asked a smiling Miguel sitting on a bench in a beach bar.

"Sorry Miguel, I need to find Laura!"

"And what would be the point of talking to her with a hot head, wait for you two to calm down."

"You do not understand!"

"Ah, I understand. I understand so much that I'm going to offer you the two things you need most right now, company and a few shots of Tequila!"

"I do not know dude..."

"Relax man and follow me." Miguel said, taking Jeremy by the arms and taking him to a table in the bar.

…..

"I shouldn't interfere in your relationship with your girlfriend. But I recently went through a complicated divorce. And the truth is that it took me a long time to realize that I was in an abusive relationship." - Miguel said to a saddened Jeremy.

"I'm not in a relationship like that, I love Laura." Jeremy replied, but with less conviction than he wanted to make it seem.

"And does she respond to this love? She loves you the same way you love her."

"It is clear..."

"Really? Be honest with yourself if you don't want to be honest with someone you barely know."

"I want to believe so, but..."

"But you have doubts. Let me propose a little game, I'm going to ask you some questions about relationships and for every positive answer from you and me we'll drink a shot of tequila, I bet you that we'll drain a bottle with ease.

"First question. Have you ever felt that you were giving much more of yourself to this relationship than your partner?"

The two took a shot and although neither of them noticed, the tan on Jeremy's skin deepened, reaching a caramel tone very close to Miguel's.

"Second question: Have you ever felt diminished by your partner?"

Another shot for both. And now Jeremy's height has increased making him several inches taller than Miguel.

"Third question: have you ever felt that you are nothing more than an accessory to your partner, that he doesn't even see you as a person but as an object?"

Another shot. Another change. Jeremy's muscles expanded, surpassing the size of Miguel's and reaching the proportions of an amateur bodybuilder. The bottle was already half full, but both men, who were not small, were already quite upset, as that level of drinking was not part of either of their habits.

"One more... one more..." A drunken Miguel said, looking extremely distorted in Jeremy's vision. "Have you ever felt like you're in this relationship out of fear... afraid that you're not good enough... that you can't be loved by someone else... and that your partner takes advantage of that to keep you stuck with them?

Another shot and Jeremy's already blurred vision began to swirl as a feeling of anxiety took over him for finally admitting those truths even while drunk. Miguel was spinning in front of him, and he felt an immense desire to get up and run away, but as he did so he fell to the ground.

"Jeremy, Jeremy..." He heard the voice in the distance, that voice, which awakened so many feelings in him. "Jeremy..." A voice that made him realize that he could still desire and be desired... "Jer...." The voice that made him excited just by hearing it. "Jav..." The voice of the man he was in love with but couldn't admit."

"Javier, get up, is everything okay?"

And Javier stood up amid laughter.

"It's all right Miguel, it was just bad form, it takes a lot more than a shot of tequila to take down a man my size." Replied a smiling Javier Garcia, sitting at the table again. At the same time he ran his hands through his long, glossy black beard.

"Let me ask the question now." Javier said, smiling wider. "Do you think you're ready to leave this relationship behind and move on to better opportunities?"

One more shot for both.

…..

Javier lay down on the cramped single bed in the room he shared with Miguel, feeling his head spinning. While the roommate spent non-productive time feeling the same thing sitting on the toilet. As he tried hard not to spill everything he had eaten that day, he felt his cell phone vibrate. When he looked at the screen he noticed that there were hundreds of messages and calls from an unknown number. Choosing to deal with it when he was in better condition, he closed his eyes again and thus did not see each of those messages and calls disappear from the records.

With his head still spinning he fell into a restless sleep filled with rapidly changing dreams, until again he dreamed of that thin, beautiful blonde woman. In the dream she lay down on him again and began kissing his naked body, but without provoking any reaction in him, nothing, no excitement, no pleasure, until once again the smooth woman's skin gave way to that rough sensation of a beard shaving the skin. his body and then it was Miguel who kissed him, rekindling the flame of desire within him. As he slept he moaned with excitement, with a powerful erection between his legs, until he finally woke up feeling Miguel's real mouth wrap around his engorged cock. Trapped in that feeling of pleasure, he pulled the other man closer to him, being invaded by the no longer strange sensation of real desire.

After hours of wild sex, Javier got up from the only bed in that room, a King Size bed reinforced to support the weight of two athletes. Stretching, he stopped to admire the muscular body of a professional bodybuilder in the bedroom mirror.

Every fiber of his body was worked with the utmost dedication and commitment, and soon he would be on stage to put all that work to the test. He ran his hand through his shaved hair and finished the movement with his long, soft beard. He knew he would have to shave it before the performance but he was reluctant because Miguel liked him too much that way. Speak of the devil, Miguel at that moment repositioned himself on the bed and watched Javier look at himself in the mirror.

"A penny for your thoughts." Said the smaller and younger man but who had still won the position of his coach along Javier's heart.

"It's no big deal, Mig, I was just looking in the mirror and thinking it's a shame to have to shave, you like it so much..."

"Javi, I want you with or without a beard, I don't care how you present yourself, I care about being with you."

"So you mean if I were smaller and thinner you'd still be with me?"

"Maybe you wouldn't have caught my attention at first sight, but like I said, I care about the person you are, the man I fell in love with and if he loses weight or gains weight that won't change."

"Thanks, babe. That's really good to hear." Javier replied, going to the bathroom.

"Where are you going, are you going to shave now?"

"I thought you didn't care about my beard."

"I don't mind, but that doesn't mean I can't enjoy it a little more and you a little of this" Miguel replied, lifting the covers and revealing his huge hardened cock and making a big smile spread across Javier's face.

……

The afternoon sun shone like never before, but even that didn't seem to light up Laura's life as she gossiped with Kayla in the bar by the sea, while they discreetly watched Miguel and Javier talk.

"Is this a good time? They seem to be arguing." Asked Kayla to her colleague.

"Just because they're serious doesn't mean they're fighting. If we take into account their social networks, they're living wonderfully." Laura replied.

"You know as well as I do how deceiving social media can be."

"Still, this is our chance to collaborate with them, it's not every day that we get to work together with two of the biggest fitness influencers in the world."

"Smile, they're looking this way!" Said Kayla, making both of them give identical fake smiles, returned by a nod from the fitness couple of the year, who then got up, put on their tank tops and headed towards the beach.

"There goes our chance." Laura grumbled.

"Don't worry my dear, people like you always get what they deserve." Said a smiling Cintia who was passing by before positioning herself at the bar counter and smiling.

A smile that widened when she saw Miguel and Javier together on the beach sharing a passionate kiss. If there was something she was proud of, it was a job well done and at her inn that meant much more than just bed and breakfast.

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles.

Santa Magic Coming Through

Prompt Day 22: Santa | Word Count: 564 | Rating: T | CW: None | Tags: Older Steddie, Mall Santa Eddie, Growing in His Santa Beard

Technically, this takes place in the same universe as my fic If You Only Believe from last year, but all you need to know is Eddie's a mall Santa and he met widowed Steve in the food court.

"I like it," Steve says, cupping both of Eddie's cheeks between his hands, "you look like you're you again."

Eddie laughs, "Me again? I didn't look like me yesterday?"

"No, you did. But the beard must have grown an extra millimeter overnight and now you look just like you did when we met."

Eddie smiles. It's funny that Steve would consider his beard to be his true self. He supposes that's how he first saw him, even if he's seen him clean-shaven, or in the process of growing the beard out, for much longer.

But yeah, Steve's not wrong. When Eddie looked in the mirror this morning he thought he was finally Santa ready, right on schedule. 

It's been almost a year since he spotted Steve sitting at that food court table, picking at his mall pretzel, and decided he needed to introduce himself.

A decision that changed his whole life.

"It's the Santa magic coming through," Eddie says, pulsing his fingers in the air, as if he's spreading magic around his head.

"Oh, is it now?" Steve asks, hands finding his hips, looking skeptical.

"Yep. Santa magic. I'm a card carrying Santa Claus, you know?" Eddie says, fingering his handlebar mustache. He'd waxed it this morning, getting back into practice, and it looks good.

"Oh, I know," Steve teases.

They're both joking around right now, but Eddie kind of believes it to be true. Every year he thinks maybe he waited too long to start growing the beard, and every year, no matter what date he started growing it, it fills out right on time.

He has his first team meeting at the mall this afternoon, just to get things ironed out, schedule-wise, for the upcoming holiday season. There's three of them, but he's been the main Santa for a few years now.

And he's always enjoyed it, but this year he's more excited than usual, because this year he has Steve. The best gift he's ever gotten. An unexpected, late in life miracle, full of more magic than even anything the Christmas season can bring.

Eddie sits on his throne, kids lined up to finally meet Santa, and Steve is sitting over at his table, a cinnamon roll in hand. But this time he's looking right at Eddie, and smiling. No sadness to be found. It looks so good on him, Eddie has to force himself back to the job at hand.

But Eddie sneaks glances as Steve watches Eddie do his job, entertaining the children. Steve looks happy, contented, and most importantly, he looks lighter.

He's happier this year.

They both are.

"Ho, ho, ho," Eddie booms in his best Santa voice, only slightly mimicking the department store Santa from A Christmas Story, as the next kid settles onto his knee to tell him their Christmas wishes for this year. No Red Ryder BB guns are asked for these days. Instead, he gets to hear about toys he's not exactly familiar with, and hopes parents come through with those wishes on Christmas morning. He never promises them anything, he can't. He has no control beyond the few minutes they are in his presence. 

He can only hope all their Christmas wishes come true, because his own already did.

And Eddie sneaks another glance, grinning, because Steve currently has Cinnabon icing clinging to his mustache at a table a few feet away. 

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun! 🎅

[miwiheroes]

Dropping Byler Evidence Every Day Until Season 5

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ Day 11: End of Season 3 pt 2/3 . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Welcome back to this series after a one-day break because of my exam, and again I'm gonna talk about the end of season 3 aka one of the most damning pieces of evidence that it's basically a fucking paradigm of the byler fandom atp <3

So here we have it, the scene where Mike probably (definitely) realises something is wrong about his relationship with El. Up until this point in the season, we have seen that Mike is desperate to grow up, and he does this by trying to emulate his parents' by getting into a relationship with a women, thinking about it logically rather than emotionally, right?

I think that as an audience, when watching S3, we were kind of waiting for Mike to have his proper character development moment, because obviously, he was kind of a jerk all season with his attitude towards Will and El. I'm still surprised that the GA believed his character was put in a blender and shat out, because this season and this SCENE literally gives you that last minute realisation and character development.

But unfortunately, and here's the kicker: it really is just too late. El and Will are gone, so he can't really do anything about his realisation that things are wrong.

Just wanted to put some things in perspective first, so here we go!

1. The Bear

So first of all, we start the scene with El trying to reach for the teddy bear which, BY THE WAY, is in Will's closet in his room. It is also definitely his bear that can be seen in his room in season one.

Therefore, this bear is a representation of Will. He literally gets taken out of the closet by Mike here as well. It is important to know that this bear represents him throughout this scene, because we can then keep in mind that El is holding him the whole time all this subsequent stuff plays out. The bear is between Mike and El, basically a litttleee foreshadowing moment to the imagery in S4 where Will is seen between Mike and El multiple times.

(this is where i realise how long this post is going to be bc there's so much to unpack here help)

2. Growing Up Issues No. 1000000

AnyWAYS so Mike then says something that perpetuates the whole S3 narrative and arc they set up for him trying to reject 'childish' things and associating childish things with Will.

"I was thinking you could come up here for Christmas. And Will too! Then we'd all have cool new presents to play with. ...Sorry that made me sound like a 7 year old."

Right after he mentions Will and the fact that he's excited to see him and everyone, he immediately feels childish. And the fact that he's been feeling like he needs to grow out of his feelings towards Will this season means he's thinking about those feelings here, however unconsciously. But he's only trying to grow up in a way he thinks he has to, there's no indication to the audience that this growing up is a good thing. (it always ends in Mike feeling self-conscious or an argument with Will)

3. Saying I love you

El then tries to remind Mike about the time that he 'talked about [his] feelings' and his 'HEART' (oh my goawsh), and he instantly looks put on the spot and definitely remembers what he said to her, obviously, but doesn't want to repeat it. He says stuff like:

"I don't think I follow." - he doesn't really remember something like this without a blatant reminder because he doesn't want to.

"Oh yeah. That. Man, that was so long ago." - when he says that it's 'so long ago', it feels like he's trying to play down what he's saying, backpedaling so that he can come up with an excuse to why he doesn't actually want to say that anymore. His excuse here is that it was a long time ago, EVEN THOUGH IT WASNT REALLY HAHA.. This his way of saying he doesn't really feel like that without actually saying it, so not to hurt her feelings.

"No, it was like heat of the moment stuff, and we were arguing and..." - again, these are just more excuses so that he can explain himself. Hmm, maybe it's that they are technically broken up here still, so he might just feel self-conscious in case she doesn't love him back. But here's the thing - they would have made him look much happier when she says 'I love you too' if this was the case, right? And they would have made him able to say I love you in S4 if he was just self-conscious she didn't love him back right?

"I don't really remember... What did I say exactly?" - Oh he definitely remembers. So this has to be yet another case of Mike trying to get El to say I love you for him, so that he doesn't have to say it. He doesn't really want to lie to her like that, so saying the words himself would feel wrong. It would be much easier just to agree with her if she says it. I talk much more about how he has already done this in the supermarket in this post. Go have a little read <3

Now, when El starts to walk up to him and puts her hand on his face, he looks utterly weirded out. It's a very strange thing to be looking like when your girlfriend might love you back, which is what she thinks Mike wants. The kicker is that El is unfortunately being presented as naive in thinking that she's making him happy by saying 'I love you too'.

This is Mike's face right after his gf says I love you btw yeah really cute and romantic.

This same sentiment of irony can be seen later when we get a shot of her smiling when she walks away from him, before cutting to a shot of the opposite of what she expected: which is Mike looking confused. Again, Duffers love subversion.

I think a lot of people think that Mike looks confused in this little part here because he also acted confused when El asked him about his feelings. So people think that, what, he just found out that El knew he loved her? No. He wasn't actually confused about what he had said ages ago, he was pretending to be confused. He clearly already knew that she had heard him, anyone can surely see that he's just trying to get her to say it for him, right? Why would he be confused about something he already knows (that El knows he said I love her)? Why would he look so shocked instead of happy that she said it back?

4. The kiss + Closet Imagery

This is literally the most blatant ass queer coding that I've ever seen. If this was any other show, it would definitely be called queer coding because I mean it is literally a girl initiating a kiss that the guy does not respond to at all, WHILST BEING IN FRONT OF A FUCKING CLOSETTTT

I barely need to analyse anything here, as you can see, El just kisses him and he doesn't do anything with his hands, he has his eyes open, and it frankly is a bad kiss, sorry but-

There isn't much stake in the argument that he's just confused and shocked as well. IN STRANGER THINGS there have been surprise kisses before (see Jancy season 2) that the directors easily made have good chemistry because they are good directors... they don't do this stuff by accident.

How else do I know they are great directors? Because they put Mike directly in front of a closet while El isn't. The Duffers fucking love background symbolism, they love symmetry. They even had some of this symmetry earlier in the scene with Jancy!:

(the window symbolises their love being open with one another or the fact they can be free with each other etc)

Not only does this closet get positioned right behind Mike in the shot, there is also a LIGHT on that is positioned right where his head is. This portrays that he's thinking about something new, like he's just been given a new perspective on something. (Also why would there be a light in the closet unless it's to draw ur attention to it??)

So why would a kiss from El, that he's had numerous times, conjure up a new idea? Why would it be that he loves her, when he allegedly already knows that because he said it ages ago? It's not an idea about El, it's him discovering the truth.

I talk more about how light symbolises truth in one of my very early analysis posts on this app here, but basically, light often symbolises the truth in film, and the fact that a light is IN THE CLOSET AND POSITIONED WHERE HIS HEAD IS just shows that he's thinking of the truth, which is not what is right in front of him.

AND THE BEAR THAT SYMBOLISES WILL IS STILL IN BETWEEN THEM. OH MY GOD,,,, this scene is literally just- the byler endgame scene I fear holy moly

So as we all know, afterwards, Mike stands there as if he's just realised something.

Based on what I've already said, that Mike can't just be realising that El figured out that he said "I love her", that Mike can't just be processing that she loved him (because wouldn't he be happy and the writers could have written a cute moment), and the fact he has lightbulb moment, this is him realising that something is wrong with his relationship. He realises that he doesn't want this.

The closet is fucking clear as day here, like it just all comes together in this perfect way I love it.

Keep this in mind for when I talk about the Hopper monologue at the end, because he just realises here he doesn't want this relationship, and during the monologue part he regrets everything he's done over the course of season 3.

This whole season he's kind of confused and trying to figure out what is wrong with him and why he feels so hurt by everything, but here is when he realises why, which is why it is a good closer of his arc. It is also supposed to be ironic that it's completely last minute. Meaning it is too late to do anything about it, leaving a good space for S4 to come along.

[fdelopera]

Never Again is NOW

This evening marks the beginning of Yom HaShoah. This Jewish holiday and Holocaust Remembrance Day marks the anniversary of the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising.

Yom HaShoah is different than International Holocaust Remembrance Day. On International Holocaust Remembrance Day, we mourn the 6 million Jews, as well as the Romani and all the others who were systematically slaughtered by the Nazis during World War II.

Yom HaShoah is the day for Jews mourn our dead and to remember the Jews who heroically fought back against the Nazis in the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising. We mourn the 6 million Jews who were murdered the LAST time the entire world was infected by the mind-virus of Jew-hate.

In the midst of this current global tidal wave of Jew-hate, we Jews say NEVER AGAIN. Never again is NOW.

And a reminder to non-Jews who might try to steal this phrase:

Never Again is a Jewish phrase. Period. It doesn’t belong to non-Jews.

Never Again refers to the Shoah, and to the THOUSANDS of years of violent Jew-hatred we have endured before then.

Never Again states that we Jews will NEVER AGAIN be slaughtered by the millions.

If you are a goy, and you use this phrase for any other purpose, you are engaging in cultural appropriation.

You are appropriating Jewish trauma and pain that IS NOT YOURS.

Unless you are willing to shoulder the burden of 3500+ years of Jewish history, you do NOT get to use this phrase.

If you steal Never Again for any other context, all you are doing is broadcasting that you are a Jew-hating bigot who engages in Holocaust Inversion.

And you can take your antisemitic bigotry and go fuck off into the sun.

.

Baruch ata Adonai, Eloheinu melech ha-olam, borei p’ri hagafen.

Baruch ata Adonai, Eloheinu melech ha-olam, asher kid’shanu b’mitzvotav v’ratza vanu, v’shabbat kod’sho b’ahava uv’ratzon hinchilanu, zikaron l’ma’aseh b’reishit. Ki hu yom t’chila l’mikra-ay kodesh, zaycher l’tziat mitzrayim. Ki vanu vacharta v’otanu kidashta mikol ha’amim. V’shabbat kod-shi-cha b’ahava uv’ratzon hinchal tanu. Baruch ata Adonai, mi’kadesh ha Shabbat.

(Blessed are you, Lord our G-d, Ruler of the Universe, who creates the fruit of the vine.

Blessed are you, Lord our G-d, Ruler of the Universe, how has sanctified us with his commandments and favored us, and given us in love and favor his holy Shabbat as an inheritance, as a remembrance of the act of creation. For this day is the beginning of all holy days, a remembrance of the Exodus from Egypt. For you have chosen us and you have blessed us from among all the nations. And you have bequeathed us your holy Shabbat in love and favor. Blessed are you, Lord, who sanctifies Shabbat.)

.

Feel this, to all those races, colors, and creeds, every man bleeds

For the countless victims and all the families of the murdered, tortured, enslaved

Raped, robbed and persecuted — Never Again

To the men, women, and children who died in their struggle to live

Never to be forgotten, Reuven Ben Menachem, yo…

.

My own blood dragged through the mud

Perished in my heart, still cherished and loved

Stripped of our pride, everything we lived for

Families cried, there's nowhere to run to, nowhere to hide

Tossed to the side, access denied

6 million died, for what?

.

Yo, a man shot dead in his back

Helpless women and children under constant attack

For no reason 'til the next season and we still bleeding

Yo it's freezing and men burn in Hell, some for squeezing

No hope for a remedy, nothing to believe

Moving targets who walk with the star on their sleeve

Forever marked with a number tattooed to your body

Late night, eyes closed, clutched to my shotty

Having visions, flashes of death camps and prisons

No provisions, deceived by the Devil's decisions

Forced into a slave, death before dishonor

For those men who were brave, shot and sent to their grave

Can't awaken, it's too late, everything's been taken

I'm shaken, family, history in the making

.

Never again shall we march like sheep to the slaughter

Never again shall we sit and take orders

Stripped of our culture, robbed of our name

Raped of our freedom and thrown into the flames

Forced from our families, taken from our homes

Removed from our G-d then burned of our bones

Never again, never again, shall we march like sheep to the slaughter

Never again leave our sons and daughters

Stripped of our culture, robbed of our name

(Never again) Raped of our freedom and thrown into the flames

Forced from our families, taken from our homes

Removed from our G-d and everything we own (Never again)

.

Some fled through the rumors of wars

But most left for dead, few escaped to the shores

With just one loaf of bread, banished

Called in for questioning and vanished, never to be seen again

I can't express the pain, that was felt in the train

To Auschwitz, tears poured down like rain

Naked, face to face with the master race

Hatred, blood, and David, my heart belongs to God and stays sacred

Rabbis and priests, disabled individuals

The poor, the scholars — all labeled common criminals

Mass extermination, total annihilation

Shipped into the ghetto and prepared for liquidation

Tortured and starved, innocent experiments

Stripped down and carved up or gassed to death

The last hour, I smelled the flowers

Flashbacks of family then sent to the showers

Powerless, undressed, women with babies clumped tight to their chest — crying

Who would've guessed — dying

Another life lost, count the cost

Another body gas-burned and tossed in the Holocaust

.

Never again shall we march like sheep to the slaughter

Never again leave our sons and daughters

Stripped of our culture, robbed of our name

Raped of our freedom and thrown into the flames

Forced from our families, taken from our homes

Removed from our G-d and everything we own

Never again, never again, shall we march like sheep to the slaughter

Never again shall we sit and take orders

Stripped of our culture, robbed of our name

(Never again) Raped of our freedom and thrown into the flames

Forced from our families, taken from our homes

Removed from our G-d then burned of our bones (Never again)

.

Never Again. Never Again.

.

From the USA to Afghanistan

From Israel to Pakistan

From Iraq to Iran

To Russia, Poland, and France

From China over to Japan

Worldwide

Never Again

.

Shema Yisrael Adonai eloheinu Adonai ehad

(“Hear O Yisrael, the Lord is our G-d, the Lord is One.” The Shema is the most important prayer in Judaism. It is the declaration of our faith in one G-d. Jews say the Shema prayer every day, in the morning and evening. And we also say the Shema before we die.)

FIRE!

*GUNSHOT*

[you-aint-gotta-pray-for-me]

Hell on Earth: Chapter 1

words: 2.7k

pairing: Steve Harrington x ex-friend!Henderson!reader (eventually romantic- could be called a slow burn I guess, but they're not together right now, there's some bad blood, just read it man I suck at summarizing T_T)

summary: Things do not seem normal in simple, down-to-earth town Hawkins, Indiana. With Will Byers missing, tensions rise while the mystery claims another victim.

timeline: set in season one right after Will goes missing

warnings: language, bending of canon, fic from reader's pov (3rd person will be there as well, will warn before a pov change if there is one)

a/n: hey guys! so, I see you have found the first part of Hell on Earth :) This is a Steve x reader, yes, I promise we will get there and it'll be awesome when we do, but as much as it is a reader insert Steve slash fic, this is also an actual Stranger Things spin-off story that I'm writing, meaning there will be a lot of focus on the actual plot along with steve and reader's relationship. Also yes, reader is Dustin's older sister.

Reader POV

Will Byers was the kind of kid you wouldn't know was missing until you looked for him. He didn't bother anybody, just kept to himself and his little group doing whatever it is kids these days do, you know? He was a simple, soft-spoken kid, the last person you would wish danger upon. So when I heard that he'd gone missing, I was as confused as I was worried.

"And he was with you when you cycled back home?"

"Yes, Jesus Christ (Y/n), for the millionth time. Yes."

"Don't get annoyed you little shit, I'm trying to help you here."

"Oh, excuse me for getting worried because my best friend is freaking missing."

"Dustin! Don't talk to your sister like that!" I heard Mom scream at us from the living room, oblivious to any context. I mean, he was right to get annoyed with me. His exasperated look at Mom's comment told me he thought the same thing. I just shook my head in understanding. What more can I do?

"Listen, I know you want to go looking for him, I would too, but you can't go on your own. I need you to promise me you won't go on your own, okay? Wait after school, and we'll go together."

"You get off school like two hours after I do, what am I supposed to do, sit and scream his name from my room and hope he shows up? Come on, man. That's bullsh-"

"Dustin."

"What?"

I stared at him, hoping my disapproving-but-concerned-older-sister look told him what he needed to hear. It did.

"Fine. 2 hours. A minute late and I'm going off on my own."

"Deal," I said, knowing full well that I'd have to ditch Algebra II. I wasn't complaining, though. Staring at a newly painted wall and waiting for it to dry would be more interesting than Algebra II.

Later that day

I had exactly 5 minutes to bolt before Algebra II started. I went to my locker and hurriedly rammed all my shit inside when I noticed my locker neighbor Barbara coming towards hers. We'd make conversation when we're at our lockers and smile and wave when we saw each other in the hallway. Outside of that, I didn't really know her all too well.

"Algebra II?"

"Nah, I'm ditching. I promised my brother I'd help him with some stuff."

"Lucky," she sighed. "I can't believe I need to sit through Mr Treeger's bullshit for 2 hours."

"You are welcome to join me if you'd like," I offered with a grin. "Algebra II can be soul-sucking."

"Thank you, really, but I can't leave Nancy hanging. Besides, we've got this thing later as well and, yeah, it's a whole thing, don't bother," she explained.

"Suit yourself, Barb." I shut my locker and almost left before I heard her voice again.

"I mean, if you need notes or anything, I could- uh- I could take them for you? If you want?" she said, almost like she wasn't sure I would take her up on her offer.

"I would love that, actually. Where do you live?"

"Uh, I think I’ll be at Steve’s party later. At the Harrington's. You know the place?" She shifted her books like they suddenly weighed too much. Her expression said she wasn't entirely looking forward to this.

Hearing Steve's name threw me slightly on edge. When you grow up with somebody and you fall out with them, you don't exactly forget things about them. I practically spent half my life at his house. I practically spent half my life with him. So, yes. I definitely knew the place.

"Y-yeah. I do"

"Great, I'll have it ready, then."

"Barb, you are literally an angel." I hurriedly gave her an impromptu hug and rushed outside to get to my car, where I saw Jonathan Byers handing out missing posters. His shoulders sagged under the weight of the stack in his hands and he looked like he hadn't slept in days. I can only imagine what he and Mrs Byers were going through.

I hesitated for a second before walking up to him. I knew Jonathan from Dustin hanging out with Will. We weren't close friends or anything, but someone had to say something. His hands trembled slightly as he stapled one of the posters onto the community board near the lot, his eyes darting nervously like he was waiting for Will to suddenly appear and tell him it was all a joke.

"Hey, Jonathan."

He flinched at my voice, turning to me with an exhausted half-smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

"Hey," he mumbled.

I nodded at the posters in his hands. "Any updates? Are the cops, like… actually doing anything?"

"They found his cycle a few minutes from Mirkwood. So that's... yeah. That's it, I guess?"

"What are they thinking?"

He hesitated, glancing down at the posters like he thought they might hold some kind of answer. "They think he might’ve run away, but that’s not Will. He wouldn’t just… leave."

I nodded slowly. "Yeah, I don’t buy that either. Will’s not the type to just take off. He’s… dependable, you know?"

Jonathan looked at me for a moment, his expression softening just a little. "Thanks."

I shrugged, kicking at a loose rock on the ground. "For what? Telling the truth?"

"For… caring, I guess," he said, turning back to his work.

I watched him for a second longer, the weight of the whole situation sinking in deeper. "Let me know if you need help. With the posters or anything else."

Jonathan nodded, his focus back on the board. "Thanks," he said again, so quiet I almost missed it.

I didn’t know what else to say, so I just turned and walked back to my car, leaving him to keep stapling the same plea for help over and over.

I drove back home and Dustin was practically at the edge of his seat, looking like he was at the verge of explosion.

"What the hell took you so long?"

"Jesus Christ, I'm right on time. Give me a break."

He continued to yell at me about how time is of the essence. I held up a hand to calm him down. "Relax, I’m here now, aren’t I? Anyway, listen. They found some stuff near Mirkwood."

That got his attention. His eyes widened, his mouth snapping shut mid-rant. "What kind of stuff?"

I sat down across from him, leaning forward so Mom couldn’t overhear from the kitchen. "They found his bike. Just abandoned on the side of the road. No tracks, no clues, nothing else. It’s like he just… vanished."

Dustin’s face fell, his usual confident bravado cracking under the weight of what I’d just told him. "His bike?" he echoed, voice smaller now.

"Yeah. Cops are calling it ‘strange circumstances.’ I’m calling it suspicious as hell."

He nodded, jaw tightening as his brain started working overtime. "Okay. Okay, so that means he didn’t run away. Someone- or something- took him."

I flinched a little at how easily he jumped to "something." This was Hawkins. Strange wasn’t on the table.

"Dustin, don’t get carried away. Let’s stick to facts. We know where his bike was, and that’s it. But you promised me you wouldn’t do anything stupid, remember?"

He rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. "Fine. But we need to check it out. Together."

I sighed, knowing there was no talking him out of it. "Together. No sneaking off without me, got it?"

"Got it," he said, though I could tell from his tone he was already planning something.

A couple hours later

"So that was fucking useless."

"Dustin, come on. Don't be like that."

"We found nothing, (Y/n)! He's out there, probably being tortured for all we know, and we found literally nothing."

"Don't jump to conclusions. Yes, we don't know anything now. But we are not the only people looking. Okay?"

"I'm telling you. We should look for him right around when he went missing."

"No way I'm letting you go out there at 10 pm unsupervised. Mom would gut me."

"I won't be unsupervised if you're with me."

"Dustin," I sighed, slightly annoyed at how he wouldn't level with me at all. "Whatever happened to Will could be bigger than us. If it's something we can't handle, I don't want us to go all in with literally no information."

"Oh, come on! but-"

"No buts. Sit this one out. I am begging you. At least until we know something."

Even though he begrudgingly agreed, his words stuck with me. I hated the idea of him sneaking off on his own, but I also couldn’t shake the feeling that he was right. If there were answers out there, they wouldn’t come to us- we had to go to them. And if I knew Dustin at all, I knew exactly what that meant. He’d go anyway.

The only way for me to deal with this was to either find something before he did or supervise, just in case. And both those options required me to be out in the woods in the dead of the night. Perfect. I remembered that I had to stop by to see Barb so it won't all be for nothing.

The glow of streetlights flickered against the windshield as I pulled up to the Harringtons' house. The faint hum of music and muffled laughter carried through the warm night air, the telltale signs of a Steve Harrington classic. For a moment, I hesitated, fingers gripping the steering wheel. It had been a while since I’d set foot here, and it felt strange- nostalgic in a way that made my chest tight. I didn't like it.

I stepped out of the car and walked around the side of the house, avoiding the main door. I wasn’t here for the party, and I definitely wasn’t in the mood to exchange awkward hellos with people who probably didn’t even remember my name. Also, I might punch Tommy and Carol just because.

The backyard was bathed in the eerie blue glow of the pool lights. It was quieter here, the party sounds muffled by the distance. Sitting by the pool, her legs dangling lazily in the water, was Barb. She was hunched over slightly, fiddling with the strap of her watch, looking as out of place as I felt.

"Hey," I called softly, not wanting to startle her.

She looked up, her face lighting up with a small, relieved smile. "Oh, hey! You made it."

"Yeah," I said, walking over and sitting beside her on the cool concrete. "Figured I’d pick up those notes before your night gets too crazy," I said before I noticed her poorly bandaged hand bloody hand.

"Holy shit, you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, it's... nothing. I'm okay."

"Partied too hard?"

Barb scoffed, glancing over her shoulder at the house. "Yeah, not exactly my scene. Nancy’s inside with Steve. I’m just... taking a break."

I nodded, leaning back on my palms and staring at the pool. Nancy's inside with Steve. That didn't bother me at all. "Can’t say I blame you. These things get out of hand quickly," I said, slightly regretting my hand pun.

She laughed at my poorly timed joke and reached into her bag to pull out a neatly folded piece of paper. "Here you go. Sorry if it’s a little messy. Mr. Treeger was really on one today."

I took the notes with a grateful smile. "You’re the best, Barb. Seriously."

She waved it off like it was no big deal. "It’s nothing. So, what are you up to?"

I reached into my bag and pulled out a worn paperback with a cracked spine and dog-eared pages. "Actually, I thought you might need this more than I do right now," I said, handing Barb my copy of The Shining.

Her eyes lit up as she took it, carefully running her fingers over the cover. "No way. I’ve been wanting to read this forever."

"Well, now you’ve got no excuse. It’s a classic. Just don’t read it alone at night unless you want to start hearing creepy voices in your house."

Barb laughed, flipping through the pages. "Thanks, (Y/n). This is awesome. I’ll take good care of it, promise." She looked up at me, her expression softening. "This one your favorite? "

"It's my comfort book, honestly"

"The Shining is your comfort book?".

"Hey, don't knock it till you try it. Besides, no matter how bad my day is going, everyone in that book is having a much worse, more horrible day."

She laughed and looked at me with a smile extending far beyond her eyes. "But seriously, why do you always have the best recommendations? Like, do you just spend all your time reading?"

"I wouldn’t say all my time," I joked, leaning back and shrugging. "But books don’t talk back or ditch you for better plans. So they’ve got that going for them."

Barb chuckled, but her smile faltered slightly, and she hesitated before asking, "Speaking of people ditching... can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to."

I glanced at her, curious. "Shoot."

"What happened with you and Steve? I mean, if you don’t mind me asking. You two seemed really close back then"

I froze for a moment, caught off guard by the question. It wasn’t exactly something I loved to think about, let alone talk about. Barb’s expression wasn’t nosy or judgmental- just genuinely curious. I hesitated for a moment, debating whether to say anything. But Barb was easy to talk to, and I felt like I could trust her.

"It’s... complicated," I said, exhaling sharply. "Before his, you know, 'coronation', King Steve and I were best friends. We practically grew up together. You stick with someone throughout middle school and still want to hang out? That's true friendship, right there."

She nodded like she related to what I was saying. "High School came and he changed. He wanted to hang out less, which was fine with me, you know? People change and everything," I paused for a second.

"It got bad only after Tommy and Carol started hanging out with him. He became this mean jerk, this person I could barely recognize. And I never got along with Tommy or Carol from the beginning, he knew that from the million times I have told him that I hate their guts. Hell, I've directly said it to Tommy and Carol. I just... I guess you could say we both grew up and became distant or whatever, but the fact is, he's just a colossal asshole now.

Barb frowned, clutching the book tighter. "That sucks. I’m sorry."

I shrugged, trying to play it off. "It’s whatever. We’re not kids anymore, and I guess we just outgrew each other. Besides, I’m not exactly missing out on this." I gestured toward the house, where someone let out an ear-piercing whoop, followed by the unmistakable sound of something breaking.

Barb laughed, shaking her head. "Yeah, I don’t think either of us belong here."

"Hey, misery loves company, right?" I teased, bumping her shoulder lightly.

She smiled, a little more at ease now, and held up the book. "Thanks for this. I mean it."

"Don’t mention it," I said, standing up and brushing off my jeans. "Enjoy the book- and maybe steer clear of the creepy twins in the hallway."

Barb laughed again as I started to head back to my car.

"You sure you don't need a lift? Your house isn't too far, I don't mind."

"Really, it's ok, (Y/n). I'll just go whenever Nancy leaves."

"It's almost midnight, Barb, you sure?"

"I am. I really am."

[stcverogers]

TOP GUN FIC RECS 5!

top gun fics that i’ve been reading and obsessing with over recently

this is extremely important and i take this very seriously out of respect for the community. please do remember to read the rules for the respective blogs before interacting with or reading them.

F: fluff A: angst S: smut

𖥻 - series /multi part

masterlist

JAKE 'HANGMAN' SERESIN

F + A: the longer that you stay, the ice is melting by @welcome-to-my-multiverse you have walls built around yourself from the hurt you had experiences in the past. jake breaks them all down.

F: dinner and domesticity by @sehnsuchts-trunken all you want after a long day at work is to spend time with jake.

F: sunshine by @call-sign-jinx you're jake's biggest secret in the best way possible.

F + A: abs sans brain by @sometimes-i-write-good you would think that the amount of time jake spends with his work friends that he'd rather spend date night with you alone

F + A: don't make the same mistake by @agentrose17 jacob seresin is a coward. to save himself the heartbreak, he runs.

F: the doll house by @honeybeedewdrops jake flew million dollar jets for a living and still couldn't build a barbie dreamhouse

A: a glimpse of us by @call-sign-jinx jake will forever be haunted by what happened years ago

F + A: who are you? + part 2 by @thewulf you move to fightertown in hopes of comfort from you aunt penny after you and your fiance break it off. in a sea full of naval aviators, you meet jake.

F: i caught you by @roosterbruiser jake will always be there to catch you

F + A: mamas (don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys) by @almostgenerallyalways you and jake have long broken up. he tries to reconnect every holiday season but you choose to ignore him. you can't quite do that when he's at your front door.

F + A: sleepy baby by @discount-shades 𖥻 if i weren't for you therapist, there was no way you'd be out late at night in a bar.

F + A: rescued + part 2 by @topgunslut you nearly drown by the beach but jake saves you

F: even if you lose it, it will find you by @lovestruckdeans though you and jake may have gone your seperate ways, you find your way back to each other.

A: what are we? by @andorskenobi four months of stringing you along and you were tired of it. you give jake an ultimatum.

F + A: perfect storms by @captainamericasmotercycle jake loves you because you're you. not because you're the admiral's daughter or whatever coyote wants to make you believe.

S: jealousy, jealousy by @seresinsbabe jealous of him and his coworker, you decide that it was your turn to make jake jealous.

F + A: i see myself with you by @penwieldingdreamer you meet jake again, this time, he dons a khaki uniform.

F: boyfriend material by @beautifultypewriter you and jake had a thing. if you were on a bad date, you'd text him and he'd show up, sweeping you away.

F: roadside assistance by @lostdreamr-blog1 your car breaks down in the middle of the road and you have no choice but to call your last resort for help.

F + A: it only feels this raw right now by @teamhappyme your time with the navy has come to an end while yours with jake is only beginning.

F: sittin' on the dock of the bay by @theloveoftoms a day on the beach with jake seresin.

F: brave by @arson-tm you are the only person jake shows his true self to.

F: your carriage awaits, sweets by @lazypeachsoul jake loved you so much. so much so that he'd willingly carry you home when you're drunk off your mind.

F: coffee for mrs. seresin? by @birdy-bat-writes jake orders your coffee for you. when your order is called, you're utterly surprised.

BRADLEY 'ROOSTER' BRADSHAW

F: pretty in pink by @roostersforevergirl if rooster wants to join his daughter's tea party, he must dress the part.

F + A: the parent trap by @averagewriter-inthedark you and rooster crashed and burn. despite the relationship ending, something beautiful bloomed from it. in a mutual agreement, one will grow up with you while the other rooster.

F: hold my hand by @wannabeschyulersister it's mav and penny's birthday. you somehow find yourself riding a mechanical bull.

F: bradley and the bump by @justmyheart bradley lets his girl know how much he loves his other girl.

F: beautiful by @eyesthatroll you can see glimpses of carole in bradley

F: mary's song by @risriswrites bradley bradshaw is hopelessly in love with his best friend. if only she felt the same.

F: i'm obsessed with you by @simpforrooster jake can't bear to see rooster pine over you for a single second longer

A: till death? by @cherrycola27 you meant what you said in your wedding vows that you'd love bradley till death do you part.

F: my reward by @susanripper rooster doesn't know how to tie a tie. now, you can't let that happen can you?

F: picture in my pocket by @worldofheroes if there's anyone who would understand what you feel, it's rooster

F: a little pinch by @tongue-like-a-razor it's time for your daughter to have her shots but it seems like rooster is more nervous than she is

A: trainwreck by @callsign-cree you knew that you and rooster were too good to true. it was time you finally confirmed it.

S: short stack by @spacecaravan something about you making him breakfast makes rooster insatiable for you.

S: return the favor by @sonofarathorn being a dad was a good look on bradley.

F: beautiful boy by @aestheticpearl baby bradshaw has a nightmare, something bradley can relate to too well.

F: i'm goin' for a run by @feralforfrank rooster wants to say goodbye before going on his run

F: a wedding to remember and a proposal to come by @sehnsuchts-trunken during mav and penny's wedding, you and rooster realise that maybe a wedding of your own was in the cards.

ROBERT 'BOB' FLOYD

F: baby. on. board by @mymamalife baby on board has his own baby on board

F + A: one beer + just another day in paradise by @lgg5989 having a baby at a young age was not part of yours and bob's plans.

F: do we have to? by @auroradawnwrites unlike bob, all you want to do is stay home.

JAVY 'COYOTE' MACHADO

F: in which it’s far too cold for your liking, but Javy can think of a few ways to warm up by @spidervee

F: the waiting by @rae-gar-targaryen javy knows that you're more than capable of doing things yourself but can't he just pamper his pregnant wife in peace?

F: cancelled flights and beignets by @siempre-bucky javy's flight home is cancelled. you make beignets to cure some of his homesickness.

F: the first 'i love you' by @demxters you didn't need javy to tell you he loved you for you to know that he did. so when he finally said those three words, you weren't surprised.

NICHOLAS 'GOOSE' BRADSHAW

F: you know why by @thewhiskersonkittens it didn't matter that you had a jerk of an ex, goose proves that he's twice the man he could ever be

[thursdayinspace]

WIP: on the run

This is a thing that spiraled out of control from a tiny headcanon. I'm not sure this will ever become an actual fic, but I thought I'd share this angsty little snippet, because it can stand on its own. They're on the run after season 9, and Mulder feels guilty, so things happen.

tagging @today-in-fic

It happens only once after they go on the run. Only once, after days on the road, too many days of never-ending worry and fear. Endless days of constantly looking over their shoulders, endless nights with little to no sleep, expecting to be caught any second. It happens once and only once, and Scully knew it was coming. Still, it hits her hard when it does.

It’s a Tuesday, maybe a Wednesday morning; days of the week have lost all meaning, blending together in strips of highway and cheap motels. She wakes up in some damp, moldy room in the middle of nowhere and the bed next to her is cold. For a second, her brain refuses to make sense of it; she sits up, blinking against the light, listening. No sounds from the bathroom, no water running. His bag is missing, no longer on the chair in the corner where he left it. The shock pierces her heart cold as ice: he's gone. Her frantic eyes fall on a note on the bedside table, his familiar handwriting in blue ballpoint pen on yellowed motel stationery:

I'm sorry. I can't do this to you. You deserve so much better, Scully. Please don't be mad at me, you know I'm right about this. I love you.

They checked in late last night and went straight to bed. She doesn't have anything to pack. In her rush to put yesterday's clothes back on, she gets caught in her sweater, can't find the armhole, can't get it over her head, and she loses precious seconds; god knows where he is by now. She leaves in such a hurry she forgets her toothbrush in the bathroom.

He left the car. Of course he did. The keys are in her bag where she put them, having driven the last few miles of their journey last night. That stupid man, if he tried to hitchhike and risked being recognized—she doesn't want to think about it, she needs a level head right now. She knows him better than anyone. Where could he have gone? He doesn't want to be found, not by the cops, and now not by her. Her chest aches and she can’t breathe. She doesn't even know how long he's been gone, and she curses her ability to sleep through absolutely everything. But she knows him. She knows him. If anyone can find him, it's her.

At least this she knows, this is something she can do. So much is out of her control. But she’s fought monsters. She’s solved puzzles nobody else wanted to touch. She can figure this out. And she knows where to start. She knows Mulder.

**

The late afternoon sun casts his shadow long over the soft grass at his feet, and she slams the car door harder than necessary, ready to cry with anger or relief or whatever the hell it is she's feeling. "Mulder."

"Hey, Scully," he says, sounding guilty, resigned, his face unhappy and tired as he meets her eyes.

"What the hell—" She breaks off, barely able to speak through the pounding of her heart. "Mulder, what were you thinking...?"

"I'm sorry," he says. He looks so utterly defeated. "How did you find me?"

She shakes her head, deciding not to get into the shit job he did of concealing his steps; it's almost like he left an intentional trail of breadcrumbs for her to follow, but this is not the time for that discussion. "I cannot believe you. After everything? You try to pull a stunt like this after everything we've been through?"

"It's my fault," he says. "It's all my fault. You're cut off from everyone you love. You have no future. You have no son. Because of me."

"You're such a fucking idiot," she spits at him. He doesn't move, doesn't reply, only lowers his eyes in shame. "Mulder," she tells him. "Look at me."

He doesn't, just lifts his shoulders in a shrug. "Go home, Scully."

"Just stop it," she says. "You know I'm not going to do that. So can we just not do this? Please? Can we please not fight about this?”

“I don’t want to fight with you.” His voice is barely more than a whisper. “I want you to be safe.”

“Yeah, well.” She takes a few steps closer, sighing. “We can’t always get everything we want.”

“Scully.” His hand reaches for her and she reaches back, she always does, she always will. “This isn’t fair to you.”

“Leaving without a word isn’t fair,” she says. There’s more she wants to say. Promises she wants to hear but can’t ask for; promises she wants to make that she can’t put into words. Not yet. Instead, she wraps her arms around him and holds on, closes her eyes when he finally lifts his arms to squeeze her tight and bury his face in her hair.

“What are we going to do?” he asks.

He’s warm against her, warm and solid and there. “I don’t know,” she says.

She can’t keep this anger inside, and he can’t shoulder this guilt on his own. But she’s too exhausted to fight. Too drained to do anything more than stand here with him. Capitulation and relief are written into every breath against her neck, into the way he wraps himself around her. He doesn’t have the strength to let go. Months ago she’s held him like this once before, and she understands how it tears him apart—she’d felt it too, then: loving him so much she’d needed him to leave, needing him so much she’d wanted him to stay.

“What can I do?” he asks, and she fills in the blanks: What can I do to make this right? What can I do to prove I’m sorry? What can I do to make it so that all this never happened?

And she wants to tell him: please see me, please understand that I need you. “Talk to me,” she says, aware of her hypocrisy; her own words are safely locked away where he will never hear them. He left because he loves her. She found him for the same reason.

“I’ll try,” he says.

She knows he wants her anger and she wishes she could give it to him, but she has no fight left in her and neither does he. If she hopes for it hard enough, maybe they’ll be okay. After all, she knows he’s hoping for the same thing.

[passengerseatsam]

we don't talk enough about the absolute negligent omission that is sam not keeping a journal like john's.

I don't know whether to blame the bunker again (x) or to simply blame the rapid change in culture around technology in the late-aughts. sam is generally shown to be an early adopter of technology, which is fine and IC enough, blah blah blah. it's also boring as fuck. every time late seasons sam is like "I downloaded a database of the entire men of letters library onto my laptop" i want to fist fight robert singer myself. you're telling me that noted academic lawboy@stanford.edu has gone the last 15 years without keeping notes??? I simply do not believe you.

MY personal hc is that he starts keeping a journal between seasons 3-4, but I also think it'd make sense as early as season 2, when he resigns himself to a life as a hunter (also, when sam is the most pro-dad). it starts as him writing down everything he can remember from his psychic dreams, tracking when his powers arise and what they do. of course, he's also making notes about cases the way john did— crocatta in milan, OH, etc.

mystery spot notes go crazy. every morning he wakes up and writes down what killed dean the day before, and every morning he wakes up to a fresh page, the previous tuesday's notes gone.

when he starts working with ruby, he tracks his progress like a science experiment, because to him it is. he keeps track of how much blood he's drinking, and how his powers change. when dean comes back, he thinks about ripping those pages out, but he can't bring himself to do it. he fills pages with research about angels, makes a list of questions he wants to ask them... then crosses it out when he decides that dean's right, angels are dicks.

in season 5, he sketches out everything he can remember about heaven, in case he forgets it all again.

soulless doesn't write anything down. he doesn't see the point. it gets pretty messy in season 7; he switches to enochian mid-sentence sometimes without noticing, and unconsciously doodles chains and hellfire in the margins.

the discovery of the bunker should really only add to his enthusiasm for meticulous notekeeping. If you want to digitize it, fine, I guess. but I personally think that a rigorous college education plus almost a decade of hunting should have him pretty set in his ways with a pen and paper. also he's had at least 2 laptops smashed.

give him a notion account at the very least