#about that. did it ever get confirmed if she was for real dating matt

[gabriestat]

in hindsight it was very funny when cole appeared on his FIRST scene all season eating alicent out and everyone in the fandom was like i fucking hate this i hope he dies and i hope the writers also die. i thought this was the repressed & guilty knights website 🙄

[farfromstrange]

Do No Harm

CHAPTER EIGHT: First-Date Jitters

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: It's time for your date with the beautiful stranger from the hospital, and you are beyond nervous. Still, you're already in too deep to pull out now, so, you jump into the cold water and learn how to swim.

Warnings for this chapter: Angst, comfort, some first-date cliché behavior, mentions of domestic violence (in thought), foreshadowing (?), flirting, physical contact, suggestive language (slightly), Matt's charisma uniqueness nerve and talent

Word Count: 5.3k

A/n: This flirty little shit won't leave my mind. Anyway, my plan was for this chapter to be one continuous chapter, but it got so long that I had to cut it into 2 parts (or this beast would have been 10k words). That’s why you’re getting a double update today. I tried not to put too much angst into this. It's still angsty, but there is a lot of comfort for the angst and the hurt to compensate for it, and I think that's beautiful. I don’t know about the writing though.

Read Chapter 8: First Date Jitters here on AO3

Many questions naturally come to mind when one is preparing for a date. How will you get there? Who will pay? What could you possibly talk about that has a high chance of boring neither of you? The question you find yourself grappling with the most though is, what the fuck are you supposed to wear?

After spending years trapped in a cage, your self-confidence took quite a hit. You used to feel somewhat satisfied with the way you looked, but John always had something to criticize. Your weight, your hair, your facial features—nothing was ever good enough for him. After breaking down your walls and making you believe that you were the best thing that ever happened to him, he knew how to manipulate you best. At least he looked at you. You were grasping at straws, holding onto the vision of a man who was never real, and you forgot your worth along the way. 

“Wear that dress you borrowed from me and never gave back,” Claire says on the other end of the line. 

You sigh. You have been staring at your closet for an hour now, and you haven’t come further than picking out what underwear to wear. With shaky fingers, you reach for the dress. You know exactly which one she meant. 

“Are you sure I should wear a dress?” you ask. “I mean, it’s kinda cold outside.”

“That’s why they invented tights and over-knee socks. Oh, and maybe wear those heart-shaped earrings I got you for your birthday. They look good on you.”

You scan the dress with careful eyes. You’ve barely slept after getting home, and now your head is pounding. Earlier, you sent Matt a text, confirming the time and place for the umpteenth time, but as half-past two is inching closer on the clock, the unease is starting to creep deeper into your bones. 

You promised Claire not to cancel, but that doesn’t take away the fear and the sheer agony you feel inside when you think about all the things that could go wrong. Alone the thought of facing Matt’s gorgeous smile in a different setting than the hospital sends a shiver down your spine, and it’s not fully pleasant. 

But no. You swore you wouldn’t give John what he wants, and he surely would be punching the air if he knew that you couldn’t stop thinking about him. He would celebrate if he knew that you just can’t seem to get over what he did to you. Then again, if he knew where you are now, the only thing getting punched would be you. He might even kill you. God knows he’s capable of unspeakable things.

His name is too prominent in your mind: his face, his voice, his scent. You need to drown him out. You need to stop making everything about him. It isn’t healthy. And Claire was right when she told you that it’s a good thing another man—a good man, at that—is making you feel things you long couldn’t because you were too scared to allow yourself to feel even the slightest hint of affection. 

You have to honor your promise to yourself and see where this date might take you. Matt is gentle. He won’t mind if you’re a little nervous. Hell, he won’t even mind if you wear a pair of sweatpants instead of this stupid dress, but you can’t deny that you still want to put yourself together and appear in something other than a pair of medical scrubs.

The dress you borrowed from Claire is a good fit for your skin tone and body type, you can’t deny that. It has turned heads before. You wore it to one of the fundraising campaigns Metro General sometimes hosts—it was summer then, a lot warmer than it is now, and you were toying around with the kids that came with their parents in Central Park. You were in charge of the games that day. One of the firefighters complimented you, but he was respectful about it, and his partner even asked you for a drink, but you declined both of them. They weren’t your type, although they were nice. It’s a fond memory that momentarily eases your anxiety. 

Matt is nice, and he’s your type. You know he’s your type even after years of unlearning what your type even used to be. It’s not a coincidence that the two of you got along so well when you first met, and that he cared so much the other day when you got hurt. 

Fuck. You realize you’re going to need to cover your nose with concealer. Not because Matt would care—he surely wouldn’t—but you don’t want to be looked at weirdly by the barista of your favorite coffee shop. That would be embarrassing.

“Liv?” Claire’s voice breaks through your downward spiral. 

You snap out of it, throwing the dress on the bed. “Yeah, I’m here,” you mumble, working at your pajamas that you still haven’t changed out of. “I’m wearing the dress.” There is a certainty in your voice that surprises you. 

You want to wear this dress. You want to go out with Matt. And you want to turn his head, even if you can’t do it with your looks. Looks are hardly all that matters, anyway. You have to remind yourself that he sees your mind, hears your voice, and has a different view of your soul than others. That’s what matters. That is all that should matter. You just have to make sure that you smell good or he will probably be appalled, considering blindness comes with heightened senses. If only you knew how heightened they truly are. 

Your friend lets out a happy little, “HA!”

You shake your head, putting her on speaker, and changing out of your pajamas into the dress. You only have a handful of tights in your closet, and not a single pair of over-knee socks, but a pair of tights and your favorite boots should do the trick. 

“Trust me,” Claire says, “one look at you in that dress, you’re gonna turn that guy’s head.” She sniffles, and you wonder how much longer she is going to torture herself with that cat. 

“I’m not so sure my looks are going to matter much,” you say. 

“Most people say looks don’t matter to them, but unless you solely fall in love with another person’s mind, looks will always play a part in how we perceive someone.”

“No, I meant that quite literally.” You pull the dress over your head. “I’m only dressing up to feel good about myself ‘cause looks definitely don’t matter to him.”

“How can you be sure?” she retorts. 

You slip into a fresh pair of tights, some socks, and a pair of biking shorts underneath. “Did I not mention Matt’s blind?”

Silence follows your sentence. A pregnant pause. You said it so nonchalantly, you didn’t think anything of it. And why would you? It’s a part of him. It’s not unimportant—definitely not, considering that life works differently for him than it does for you—but it’s also not the only thing about him. 

“Blind?” Claire’s voice is slightly shaky when she asks.

You frown at your phone screen while slipping into your favorite boots. “Yes, blind,” you say. “Although we didn’t get around to discussing his condition. I mean, medically, there is probably nothing I haven’t seen or heard before. I just didn’t think of asking him, “Hey, how’d it happen? Is it complete blindness? Amaurosis? Congenital?” Even I know that it’s not appropriate to ask someone you just met about their medical history. It’s something he has to want to talk about, not the other way around. I don’t expect full disclosure from a stranger like I do from my patients. And we both know dating a patient would be highly unethical.”

“I—” she cuts herself off. 

One look at the time tells you that you’re already running late. If you want to catch your bus, you have to leave in the next five minutes. You slide the last of your heart-shaped earrings into your earlobe.

“Listen, Claire, if that’s all you have to say, I should go. I can’t miss my bus,” you say. 

Her behavior may strike you as odd, but your mind is currently preoccupied with other things. You can’t pay much mind to the tone of her voice or the pronunciation of her words, or there is a chance you might not make it to your coffee date after all because you will be stuck in another downward spiral of overthinking. 

She exhales. “I—okay, yeah. I’m sorry. It’s probably nothing.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she agrees. “Go. Have fun. Just… be careful.”

The way she says it makes the hairs on your arms stand up. “I will.” Your eyebrows still furrowed in a frown. “I’ll call you later.”

The line clicks when you hang up, trying not to let the absurdity of the situation get to you. You have plans, and you have to stick to them. 

With a swift shake of your head, you touch up your hair and makeup, assuring that the discoloration of your bruised nose looks less severe than it is before you grab your coat, your bag, and your phone, and you make your way out. 

You’re not overdressed, but you still feel like you’re standing out of the crowd when you get on the bus. The bus driver pays no attention to you, and neither do the other passengers, but somehow all eyes are still on you. Maybe you should have gone for a pair of jeans instead? A longer dress? A shorter dress? Less cleavage? Maybe something a little less tight? A sweater would have worked nicely too, you’re sure. What if you get off at the next stop, hurry back to change, and arrive a little later than planned? 

Matt probably won’t be on time either. He wanted to meet up half an hour later. That sounds like the kind of guy who needs a little more time, someone who struggles to be on time. Or maybe he’s the complete opposite of the picture you painted of him in your mind, and Claire’s reaction has something to do with it. It makes no sense—it absolutely makes no fucking sense, and you should stop worrying about things that don’t make any fucking sense whatsoever, but you can’t. You are physically incapable of stopping the spiral on your own. 

Time stops when you overthink, and it’s only when more people start leaving the bus that you realize you have long missed the chance to get out, run back home, and change. You’re almost in the city, almost where your favorite coffee shop is located that you suggested to him and he agreed on, and there is no going back from here. 

You don’t know where to put your hands. They’re shaking. Your heart is beating out of your chest. The sweat in your pores is threatening to drip down your temples, it feels like, and you’re starting to worry whether or not he will be able to smell how nervous you are. Your stomach is in knots. You can’t swallow the lump in your throat because it has lodged itself between your esophagus and your larynx. It’s too much—too loud, too hot, too everything. You just want to turn around and run. You want to disappear into the ground, melt into a puddle, and stay there. 

When you look up toward the entrance of the coffee shop, he’s standing there. He’s on time. No, he’s early. The clock on your phone reads 2:28 pm. You wouldn’t have expected him to be so punctual. It scares you.

Your brain starts to secrete even more cortisol—should you run or should you fight? Fight might be the wrong word to use. It is more of a 'should you or should you not face a situation your inner demons don't want to face' dilemma.

The sudden wave of anxiety that washes over you mixes with a strange sizzling of excitement and a certain warmth that starts to build in your core. The feeling is much stranger than what you’re used to, and it makes you vibrate. Or at least it feels like you’re vibrating. Levitating. Dying. Maybe you’re having a heart attack.

Don’t be ridiculous, you think to yourself. You’re a doctor. You’re not having a heart attack. What you’re sure of though is that, if you start breathing even shallower, you will get a panic attack.

He looks good. Too good. His suit fits him perfectly. You wonder how much he spends to get his suits tailored so that he can breathe and move around freely, and still look fucking dashing whenever he sets foot outside. For someone who does mostly pro-bono work, he knows how to dress himself. 

Matt is standing away from the many people crossing the sidewalk. He’s supporting himself on his cane, his red round glasses framing his sharp features perfectly. He has the kind of cheeks you just want to squeeze, yet his jawline is sharp enough to cut yourself on it. He hasn’t shaved in a few days, so his stubble is a lot more prominent. The locks on his head seem so soft, and he keeps the rest of him clean, too—you wouldn’t expect anything less from someone who has heightened senses due to the lack of one of the most crucial ones.

The way his muscles tense under his suit catches your attention. Your breath hitches again, and this time not because you’re nervous and worried out of your mind. His biceps are straining against the sleeves of his coat, and it seems like his chiseled chest is about to pop the buttons of his dress shirt, but it still fits perfectly enough to keep every sliver of skin hidden from the world. 

Taking a deep breath, you close the distance between you. “Matt?” your voice cracks when you call his name.

He tilts his head in your direction. It doesn’t even take him a full second, nor does he pretend that he has trouble making you out of the sea of people. He probably has done this quite a few times. You can’t blame him. He’s an attractive man. 

You wonder what would happen if he was yours. Women would still want him, and you would have to have faith. You wouldn’t consider yourself an overly jealous person, but the thought of having to compete makes your stomach churn. You feel so far out of his league that it doesn’t even cross your mind that you would be his as much as he would be yours, and it is no relationship if you feel like you have to compete with other women.

A part of you believes that he is the kind of man to pay undivided attention to the person he cares about, but who is to say that you are worth his attention? Who’s to say that he wouldn’t run at the first chance to be with someone less damaged, someone who’s beautiful in a different way, and someone who can give him peace instead of whatever mess you can offer him. 

But then he smiles at you, and your worries are momentarily forgotten. 

“Liv, hi,” he says. You shudder at the smooth sound of his voice. His hand reaches out, but he misses your arm. A slight frown finds its way onto his face as if he’s thinking to himself, ‘I’m usually better than this.’

You take a step closer. He finally gets a hold of your forearm. “I hope it’s you I’m touching and not some stranger with similarly soft forearms.”

Soft. He just called you soft. You have never been called that before. The giggle that escapes you makes you wonder where you left your brain this morning. 

The left side has turned itself off entirely, leaving the right side of your brain in charge. This is the worst idea you’ve ever had. You’re already a mess. How are you supposed to survive the afternoon with him and only him? It feels like he’s staring right into your soul, which is impossible, but the glasses don’t give you insight into beautiful brown eyes, and that makes you wonder how he does it. How does he stare you down without actually staring you down?

You clear your throat. “No, it is me,” you answer. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he says again. The grin doesn’t leave his lips. He lets go of your arm, seemingly having oriented himself.

“Hi,” is all you can say. You miss his touch. It wasn’t even—or at least not mostly—because he wanted to touch you. He did it because there are so many people around you and he needed to know where exactly you stand. You can only imagine the anxiety that he’s feeling.

His smile turns into a smirk. “Hi.” He’s not making this easier on you. “How are you?” Matt finally puts you out of your misery.

What is the appropriate thing to answer? Good? Nervous? That you feel like you’re dying from a heart attack? Or that you miss his hand on your soft forearm?

“I’m–” you take a deep breath. “I’m good,” you say. “How’re you?”

He nods. “I’m alright, thank you.”

Your eyes flick down to the hand on his cane. He has his head tilted in your direction, his attention entirely on you. He adjusts his glasses. His smile turns into a softer expression of concern, and it makes your heart jump.

“You seem nervous,” he observes. 

“I guess you could say that,” you admit. You can’t even stop the words before they tumble out of your mouth. “I don’t usually do this. You know, go on dates.”

“Really? Oh. I kind of figured men were lining up to get even a second of your attention, or trying to, at least.”

The blood rushes to your cheeks again. “Oh, I—No, they don’t do that.” Your head is spinning. 

You always appear unapproachable, or so you’ve heard. You don’t know if it’s the way you look at people or the way you behave. Perhaps they get scared that they will burn themselves on your burning defenses. You wouldn’t put it past them. You have pushed what little advances people have made on you in the past two years away because you were scared of burning yourself, and you weren’t interested in trying to mend that. With Matt, that’s different.

If men were lining up to be with you, your first response would surely be to flee, and not because of your personal issues with the opposite sex. You would flee out of natural instinct.

Matt clears his throat. “I’m terrible at getting hints. If I’m making you uncomfortable or you think you made the wrong choice by coming here, I wouldn’t blame you for leaving,” he says.

He’s giving you a choice—an out. That alone makes the blood in your cheeks spread faster, and your palms start sweating. You don’t want to go. 

“No,” you quickly shake your head. “I’m not uncomfortable.”

“Are you sure?”

You reach out, boldly so, and take his hand in yours. “Yes. Am I making you uncomfortable?” you ask. 

Matt swallows thickly. His Adam’s apple bops as he tries to get rid of the lump in his throat. His fingers twitch when you wrap your own around his and place them against your forearm again. If you look close enough, you might even see a soft sheen of sweat on his forehead. 

The silence persists for a few seconds. “No,” he answers then. “You simply have a way of, um...taking my breath away.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Not at all.” He tightens his grip. His lips open, and he stammers for a moment before he finds his words again. “I find it refreshing. It’s not often I meet someone who can knock me off my feet, so…” Breaking off into a chuckle, Matt lowers his head to adjust his glasses once again.

The way he’s fidgeting with his fingers tells you that you’re not the only nervous one out of the two of you. Maybe the fact that you render him speechless affects him more than he lets on. He seems like the kind of guy who likes to be in control because he feels like he has to be or the world might end. You know that feeling all too well.

It would be so much easier if he wasn’t so charming, but if it were easy and he wasn’t so charming, you would still feel utterly alone in this life. New beginnings are supposed to feel better than an unhappy ending. New beginnings are supposed to offer a chance at happiness, and even though you are a little late with trying to find your way back to civilization after keeping yourself locked in a cage of someone else’s making for so long, there is a chance now. A chance that you have to take. 

The easy way out would be to turn around and forget you ever met him, but Matt deserves better, and so do you. The easy way out would hurt too much.

You lick your lips absentmindedly. He sucks in a sharp breath. You’re a lot more sensitive to the behavior of others than a normal person would be. Is he attracted to you? Do you turn him on? Those are questions that make your head spin worse than it has been ever since you laid eyes on him.

“I’m sorry,” you break the awkward silence, your voice breathless. “It seems like the feeling is mutual.”

Your confidence is starting to build, convincing you that you can do this. And maybe you can. You’re not leaving him cold, that much is sure when you take a moment to analyze his body language.

His thumb brushes over your forearm. He seems so much more experienced than you, and he keeps his composure in a way you can’t relate to. You are dying inside, and the blood is pumping in your cheeks while leaving the rest of your body cold. Except for your very core; you can feel the heat starting to spread through your core, shooting between your legs just from the way he touches you. 

You thought this would be an innocent coffee date—you were wrong. Your body is as desperate for a physical connection as your soul yearns for an emotional connection. It’s a strange combination of needs that hits you at once and with full force. And it is all directed at him. This guy you barely know but has turned your head every single time you have met him. 

You’re fucked.

Matt smirks, as though he knows something that you do not. “You have no idea how happy that makes me,” he murmurs. 

“The fact that you knocked me off my feet?” you ask dumbfounded. You’re glad he can’t see your face because that would be utterly embarrassing. 

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “that.”

You want to scream, 'God, you’re hot,' but you would rather not embarrass yourself in front of him like that. His smirk makes it hard to focus, but if you don’t want to spend the rest of the afternoon on the sidewalk, staring at him while he holds onto your forearm, one of you has to start moving.

“Do you want to go inside?” you ask.

“Yeah. Lead the way,” he says. 

You gently slide his hand from your forearm into your own. You wish you could see his eyes right now. Are those beautiful hazel eyes with emerald specks in them sparkling? You saw how expressive they were when you patched him up. They were unfocused and pained, but they also reminded you of an array of stars. It’s probably unintentional, but his eyes give away how he’s feeling at any given time, and that, to you, is one of the most beautiful qualities he could possess because it means that he’s real. He can’t lie because his eyes would give them away. 

His glasses don’t make Matt hard to read, but they sure make you miss the universe you got to stare into a few days ago. It felt like a privilege.

He keeps his cane pressed tightly to his chest, using the tip to check the small radius around him while he holds on tightly to your hand, trusting you to guide him where he needs to go without putting him at risk. 

“Door,” you tell him as you make your way into the café. You hold it open, and he uses his cane to make sure he doesn’t accidentally bump into you or the doorframe. 

Just as you’re about to enter, a couple comes at you. You twirl around, placing a hand on his waist and pulling him a bit closer to you before someone can bump into him. He raises his eyebrows. 

“Oh,” he exclaims when the couple apologizes for not looking, and he tilts his way back in your direction, Your hands are still on his waist, standing closer to you than ever before. His cheeks flush. Got him. “Thank you,” he stammers, but not without letting out a chuckle that resembles a small giggle. 

Your heart melts, and you damn Matt Murdock for not only being a walking wet dream but for being so kindhearted and adorable. And why does he smell so good?

“No problem,” you answer breathlessly.

“It helps that one of us isn’t blind, huh?”

It’s your turn to laugh. “It’s a big responsibility if you’re seeing for two, so I try to take it seriously.”

His giggle turns into a laugh that comes deep from his chest, but it still sounds like a soft symphony you might hear playing on a spring day. “Yeah,” Matt says, “You’re taking it very seriously.”

“I’d call myself your knight in shining armor, but I believe that comparison is outdated and wrong since you don’t need saving.”

“I wouldn't mind being saved by you.”

You open your mouth, but the only thing that comes out is a startled breath. “Okay, now you’re just trying to make me blush.”

“Why would I do that?”

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

He smirks. “I wouldn’t get anything out of making you blush, but I do enjoy hearing the smile in your voice whenever I compliment you. So, maybe that’s what I’m doing.”

“Oh.”

“Your smile sounds nice. Beautiful. It’s how I, uh, see you. And you’re calm. I—the world is often too loud, you know, and your voice is a welcome distraction from all the, uh, noise. Helps me relax. If you know what I mean.”

If he keeps talking, you are sure that you will pull him closer by his waist and kiss him. You can’t remember the last time you have felt a need quite like this one. And you have never wanted to kiss another human being more than him. Why? Just because he’s nice to you? No. He’s not just nice to you. You probably would have run by now if he were just nice to you. 

Matt is genuine, which seems to be his personality trait, and it makes you feel somewhat important again. Like you’re worthy of whatever it is he’s giving you, not constant pain and suffering. It’s strange and new, and it is still terrifying in a way, but once you let it happen, it’s a lot more gentle on your soul.

“Fuck me,” you curse under your breath. “We haven’t even sat down yet.”

“Is that a bad thing?” he asks. 

You shake your head. “No.”

“So, does that mean I can still buy you a coffee?”

“Now more than ever,” you blurt the first sentence that comes to mind. You look at him as if he is a rare species, and you’re painfully aware of that.

Can he read your mind? Whenever you look at him, it seems like he knows just what you’re going through. He tries to hide it, but it’s almost as if he’s already inside of you. Not in the way you want him to but in a way that makes you feel vulnerable, but you still would surrender all of you to him if he just asked. 

Your hands slip from his waist. 

“After you,” he says, grabbing a hold of your arm again.

“Right,” you mutter. “After me.”

The line isn’t long.  You get behind a few other people, Matt’s hand still tightly clasping your bicep. 

“I just realized that they don’t have a Braille option for the menu.” Your eyes dart around the room, but the only visible menu is the one hanging above the counter. 

You’ve been here more times than you can count, but you never actively paid attention to how accessible it all is—which is not at all. 

Matt chuckles beside you, his breath tickling your ear. “Read it to me,” he says. His voice is soft, quiet, and kept low so only you can hear him.

You shiver. Your lips suddenly feel drier than the desert. You won’t survive this day, you’re sure. He’s going to kill you.

“R-read it to you?” you stammer as if it is such an outlandish request. It isn’t. You just can’t process it properly, not when he’s so close to you and he smells like he does. 

He doesn’t have a strong, overwhelming scent. The cologne he’s wearing only has a slight whiff of sandalwood and nature, but it’s nothing too overwhelming. Of course, he must have a sensitive sense of smell as well. He probably uses scentless soap and shampoo, and the cologne he uses might even be the only scent he can stand. What you smell on him must be his natural scent. Clean, soft, warm—you’re obsessed with it. You’re addicted to it.

Matt nods again. “Yeah, read it to me,” he repeats.

“Okay–” you take a deep breath, and you begin to recite the options you already know by heart. Coffee, cold drinks, tea, lunch options, and snacks. 

He listens intently to what you have to say. “I think I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

“Did you decide that now or did you know that from the beginning?”

“I may have already known,” he says with a smirk.

“Then why did you ask me to read it to you?”

“I like listening to your voice.”

When you suck in a sharp breath this time, you manage to conceal it better. “That’s cheesy,” you retort, trying to match the tone of his voice but failing miserably. Flirting over the phone proves to be much easier than in person, especially with a man like him. 

“Is it still cheesy if it’s the truth?” Matt asks.

You look at him, staring at your reflection in his glasses, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “The truth can be cheesy.”

“That’s true, but I made you smile. I’d consider my cheesiness successful.”

“Don’t let it go to your head.”

He chuckles. “Oh, don’t worry. It won’t. Can’t deny it makes me feel good though.”

You exhale again, even more shaky than the last time. All you can see is yourself in his reflection. Before you can answer, the couple in front of you finishes their order and moves on to the other end of the counter, allowing you to step forward.

“Hi,” you say to the barista behind the counter. “Could I get two regular lattes and two muffins, please?”

Matt smirks beside you, not at all fazed by your ignorance of his antics. If anything, it spurs him on further, and he tightens his grip on your arm. Deep down, you know that he is doing it on purpose, but at the first sign of you being uncomfortable, there is no doubt in your mind that he will stop. But you’re not uncomfortable; you’re merely flustered beyond relief. To him, that’s a good sign because it means that you’re in this and not with one foot out the door—and you wouldn’t want to be, anyway, which is much scarier than the prospect of turning around and remaining alone for the rest of your life. 

A bit of fear goes a long way, but there are still walls that he has to break through. Walls you won’t let him through so easily, but you also know you can’t keep him at an arm’s length forever. Eventually, the truth will come out, and you’re not quite sure how to deal with that revelation before your date has even taken off.

Tag List: @shiorimakibawrites @allllium @siampie @auroraslibrary @roseallisonparker @abucketofweird @thatonegamefish @capylore @kniselle @sumo-b98 @peachstarliight @danzer8705 @kakamixo @littlehappyperson @atemydadforbreakfast @stevenknightmarc @zheezs14 @shouldbestudying41 @kiwwia-wiwwia @writtenbyred

[im-a-matt-girl]

girlfriend tag with matt on his personal channel

"Girlfriend"

"Alrighty, then," you say to the camera. "It's time for another thrilling video on my personal channel.

"As you can see by the title, yes, I do have a girlfriend. But, she will not be joining me today. She's a bit camera-shy, but she did want me to do this video, and I wanted to do this video, so… we're gonna do this video.

"I'm gonna do the girlfriend tag. So, I know everyone has their own version of the girlfriend tag, but these ones are the questions that I'm comfortable answering, and she's comfortable with answering… or, with me answering? Yeah.

"Anyway, here is the first question: 'Where or how did you guys meet?'

"So, we met a while back, before I was super popular, but she recognized me from one of our old, old videos, and she approached me and said 'hi.' I thought she was cool, we exchanged socials, and then we became friends. So… yeah. That's how we met.

"Next question: 'How long have you been dating?'

"Um… this one's kinda hard to answer, because we were friends for so long, and now she's like… basically part of our family, so it's kinda like… we went from being friends, to best friends, to now I guess we're a couple, but there was no real like… defining moment in our relationship where we were like 'Oh, yeah, now we're officially dating,' it just kind of happened like… organically, I think is the word.

"Alright, next question: 'How did you ask her to be your girlfriend?'

"Like I said, there wasn't really a defining moment or anything, it was just like… 'Okay, I like you, you like me, this is more than a friendship now, it's like… a true partnership.' So, yeah.

"'Have you ever made each other cry?'

"… Does cry-laughing count?"

"'Do you remember who first said "I love you"?'

"... No, I actually don't. Wait. Was it…? No, sorry, I forget. She's gonna kill me. Just kidding, she's actually really sweet. But I'm gonna have to confirm with her later, because I genuinely forgot, and I don't wanna say the wrong thing and look stupid.

"'Have you ever tried to kiss each other in awkward situations?'

"No, I don't like to kiss in public or make things awkward. I like to keep my private life private. And… yeah, that's all I have to say about that.

"'What is her favorite, coffee or tea?'

"Uh, so she can't have coffee, so the answer is tea.

"'Does she prefer watching movies or reading books?'

"She actually likes reading, a lot. Like, she's so smart, and it's one of the reasons I love her. Even though I don't read too much, it's just her thing and… yeah. Reading.

"'Pizza or burgers?'

"So, I like burgers, she likes pizza.

"'What was she wearing on your first date?'

"Um… I think the first time I took her out to dinner, just me and her, she wore a simple black dress, nothing too fancy, but it was really cute, and it looked good on her, so… yeah.

"'Does she prefer rap music or pop music?'

"Rap, and I think if it was pop, I… well, I don't know if I'd be dating her, to be honest. Not that that's a make-or-break for me, just… you know, we vibe to the same kind of music, and it's nice.

"'Have you ever hidden something from her?'

"No, and I never will. The moment you start doing that shit to each other, the relationship's over. You gotta have honesty. That's key.

"'Dogs or cats?'

"We both love dogs and cats, but I like dogs more, and I think… she likes cats more? Yeah, I think she likes cats more.

"'What does she like most about your siblings?'

"Um, if I had to guess, she would probably like… Well, she gets along with Nick because they're both like, similar in personality. I think she really admires Nick for how brave he is, actually. Because, you know, she's kinda shy, so she wants to be brave like Nick. As for Chris, he makes her laugh, like, a lot - probably more than me, actually. So she probably likes that Chris is funny.

"'Do you love each other?'

"Yes. Very much.

"Alright, thank you guys for watching this video. Sorry it's so short, but it was basically like a Q&A, so… yeah.

"If you have any more video ideas, let me know, just please don't ask my girlfriend to come on camera, she doesn't want to, yet. But if that ever changes, she'll let me know, and I'll let you guys know, or she'll just… show up one day, I don't know.

"Anyway, thanks for joining me today. I love you guys, that will never change. And, I'll see you in the next video."

[peeterparkr]

red; tom's version|one.

chapter one: sad, beautiful tragic. “Long handwritten note deep in your pocket”

pairing: Tom Holland x Reader (tom's not famous here) story summary: you’re reminiscing through your relationship months after the heartbreak and breakup. Wondering if it went wrong from the very start when Tom arrived at New York, and him being a cautionary tale or if the problems came along the way. Perhaps the key to find back your way to him is going back through the nice things before the heartbreak came. Or is it too painful to go all over again?

chapter summary: you haven't seen him since he ditched you, after months of wearing plaid you go out and realize he's back in new york warnings: angsty, I mean it's a breakup, swearing. word count: 7.3k playlist (updated after each chapter, including Red songs+ other for the chapter): Spotify | Apple Music

fic masterlist next chapter

a/n: Hi, I couldn't wait to share it so I said, screw it, I'm posting this. You don't know how excited I am to write this and share it with you. As you know, this is inspired by Red by Taylor Swift and will hurt. So I expect us all to be crumpled up pieces of paper wearing scarves by the end of this. (perennial is still coming, I'm just waiting on a few people who're reading it). SPECIAL THANKS TO @erodasghosts for reading it and hyping me up and helping me figure this all out. I hope you guys all like it as much as I did. The story is set in New York. Please give feedback!

One month after the breakup.

Strong whiskey, on the rocks. That was his drink of choice that night. The night before had been a beer. You knew you could imagine the taste of his lips by only looking at him. You wondered if he’d gone there for a second night for the same reason you had.

When you had seen him across the place the night before, you had tried to decide how to feel. We always think we will react one way or another when we see our official heartbreak walking through. Victorious as he is perfectly dressed, with his hair flowing.

He hadn’t brought her. Which you didn’t know how to feel about.

The day before you had not been alone, Jules, Matty, and Lula were there.

“Shit, the axolotl at 10 o'clock, you’ve got to be shitting me,” Lourdes, Lula, had whispered before sipping her drink, a Long Island Tea. “We are celebrating she’s doing better, can’t fucking believe this,” she hissed at Jules who only lifted her chin slightly to see who she was referring to. “What the fuck is he doing here? Ay, es que, con qué huevos se atreve a venir aquí? Que no mame.” [with what balls did he dare to come here? He shouldn’t fuck with us. ]

You loved hanging out with Lula and listening to her very refined Spanish cursing.

“It’s not him,” Julia said.

You tried looking back to see who they were referring to. “Who is—?”

“Y/N, wait I just noticed the haircut!” Matt pointed out, reaching over, getting your attention back to them and not at whatever they were referring to. “It looks great. It’s like a new you!”

This new you. The one that had been screwed over twice. Men really have the nerve when it comes to breaking hearts. They recklessly go in and let you believe love comes in all shades of colors, passionate red like the roses they send, and tender pinks like your sweet innocence that they end up stealing. But they never tell you it’ll be you all alone in a dark room with shades of grey under a flickering light that barely warms you.

The new you, which was still a bit lost. Your old self was a stranger to you now. You had no idea who this new you was, she was quiet now. Didn’t have a heart because someone had stolen it and broken it and left it behind a dumpster. Still trying to find it. The new you wasn't.. you.

Your friends were glad, however, they finally got you to go out again. After weeks of wearing plaid and watching Fleabag, and even considering watching Greys Anatomy, a low point, you had finally decided to come back to see if there was any sunshine left for you.

It’s important to point out that you had been broken-hearted and almost crazy when the breakup had happened. Very… delusional. You were not proud of the way you’d reacted. Although you wouldn’t have reacted any other way.

The city had been quiet, the red lights seemed to last longer, and the crowds would often swallow you. The city you once loved was now an open book of a relationship that seemed real, should’ve known it was all fiction.

In your dreams they’d be bright, colorful. The village is aglow. Cold days with warm hearts. Like his.

You’d been cold ever since.

“Ah, yeah, the haircut. Got it today. Lula’s idea” The haircut had come as the solution to a problem that would never be solved. As if cutting your hair meant there was something you had the power on. You didn’t.

How stupid was it? You couldn’t control your life.

“It suits her well, doesn’t it?” Lula admitted proudly.

You still had his picture engraved in your heart. You still dreamed he would come back and say it was all a nightmare.

“It’s nice, I’m glad to have you back,” Jules commented. Julia had probably been the most surprised with the news of the breakup, she had almost gone and killed Tom when he had….unimportant. She hadn’t, though, and she had yet to tell you the reason why. Julia had been mysterious since.

“I’m glad to be back,” you confirmed. You’d ordered a beer, and maybe you shouldn’t have. Stella Artois, his one favorite. You pocketed the beer cap. “Though I was not gone.”

Matt watched you, him and Julia had recently started dating. Best friends since kids who just recently confessed their feelings for each other, took them long enough. “How back are you, though?”

“Meaning?” You asked, taking a sip.

Matt shrugged, “I could introduce you to some friends from work, there’s this hot guy—“

“No,” you interrupted him, leaving the bottle down as you had almost choked. “No, no. Not in the dating area yet. Won’t be in a long time. Still healing.”

Lula still had her eyes glued elsewhere. “Healing from a bullet hole, y/n, whatever you’re doing isn’t working, and band aids won’t fix it—Jules it is, I swear to god it’s him.”

“It’s not him,” Julia rolled her eyes.

“Ay, que sí!” [he is]

“Who?” You asked.

Julia took your hands, “you know Lula,” she rolled her eyes. “I love that you ordered a beer.”

“Yeah,” you gulped. “Beer is universal language for men as in: ‘don’t get close to me.’” A lesson someone dear had taught you once.

Matt tilted his head in agreement, “Yeah.”

“Really?” Lula frowned, “should’ve ordered one. Next time I’ll ask for my drink but instead of a glass I’ll ask them to put it in a beer bottle.”

“Wouldn't it be easier to order a beer?” Matt suggested.

“But then I’d break our tradition.”

Matt watched her, “you really are something.”

You chuckled.

“Why is beer seen as not—feminine?” Matt questioned.

Julia shrugged. “It’s beyond me, really. It’s a drink.”

“Like does my drink make me less of a man?” Matt watched his glass, another Long Island Tea. A stupid inside joke you all had.

“No,” you admitted. “But you know how society is. Since it’s sweet, it’s got to be—“

“Oh, no, no, I love you, y/n, but tonight I don’t want you lecturing us on it, no, tonight we are having fun, ok?” Lula reminded you. “We will not talk about femininity or lack of a beer—or whatever your agenda is up to these days, which, hey! Why does y/n get to break the rule?” Lula questioned. “No Long Island Tea?

Julia glared at her, “Because she can do whatever she wants tonight,” she hissed and then turned to you. “But how are you feeling? It’s your first time going out in months, is it as fun?” Julia was the one to try to cheer you up the most.

No, it wasn’t fun.

“I—feel good!” You lied. Although you were not. But you guessed that’s the response they wanted after seeing you laying down on the ground and crying yourself to sleep. Staring at windows and walking down in the rain. They wanted you to feel better.

Your body was covered in scars.Though, they were from adventures.

“Bullshit,” Lula intruded. “You seem sad. Maybe I’ll get some shots,” she announced before going to get some.

“Well,” you chuckled. “My first time going out and you bring me back to the place where it all started?” You answered cynically but then shrugged. “I’m—I…no. I just—It’s weird. I still see him everywhere, and as I’m here it’s like watching a movie of our greatest moments,” you admitted. “Like hey, look over there, it’s Tom and Y/N’s greatest moments,” you stated, Lula got back. “Let’s start memory lane…”and you sighed and continued with the best presenter voice you had. “Here you’ll wonder how the hell did it go so wrong since they were so perfect, what the hell went wrong, when did it turn into some sad stupid love affair. You’ll be asking yourself hey, they seemed in love, over there, they danced! Over there… they sang a song together! See over there? There was a fucking jukebox in which they have memories! Oh they have memories there too! And you’ll ask yourself, he made it seem real, what the hell happened?” You sighed exhaustedly. “What happened? What the fuck happened? How was I so stupid?” You ran your hands through your face.

Your friends only watched you, with pity, sadness. Even Lula had turned her gaze guilty.

You cleared your throat, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“No,” Lula sighed, “it’s our fault for bringing you here. We’re fucking idiots. Besides he is—Julia I swear to god, he is there.” Lula raised her hand and Julia quickly pulled it down.

Julia bit her lip, “I—hadn’t realized how much Tom there is here.”

“Yeah.”

“He called me—“Matt had started.

“No, no, we can’t talk about him, baby,” Julia reminded him. Matt widened his eyes and nodded.

You blinked, “no, it’s—He called you? Tom?” Why had Tom called Matty? What for?

“Yeah, had a missed call,” Matt explained, ignoring his girlfriend. “I—it was this morning.”

You felt your chest twist. “Yeah, I get a lot of those too.”

Perhaps he wanted to talk to you and thought Matty was dumb enough to give you the phone.

Julia glared at Matt. “We promised not to—“

“No, hey,” you stopped her. “I—sorry, I brought him up.”

“But we shouldn’t talk about him,” Julia insisted. “Tonight is all about having fun,” she stated as she handed everyone their shots.

“No, it’s alright,” you said. “I’m fine talking about it.”

Lula turned her gaze to you. “Shouldn’t you hate him?”

Were you supposed to hate someone who gave you something so beautiful? Just because it’s over doesn’t mean you have to look back and hate it.

“No,” you answered simply.

Matt watched you. “Wait, really?”

You took a deep breath. “Yeah, I’m—I decided I’m thankful for everything. He really… I… I mean I knew from the start he was trouble. But he got me to get rid of Will. So I’m thankful for Tom. He showed me some beautiful things about him, about myself and… I’m thankful. Even the part when he broke my heart.”

It was a lie. Partly. You had been so full of doubts that you only tried wondering why it had gone so wrong. Or course, the lie was there. His lies. But how could any of it be a lie?

Julia smiled gently, “You’re really a grown up.”

“Or very stupid.” Lula commented.

“Thanks, Lula, I appreciate it,” you rolled your eyes. “I… well, I’ve gotta admit I was pretty stupid.”

Lula shrugged, “Hey, I don’t blame you, boy came in with an accent, he had a cute smile, he was hot, I must admit, and he wasn’t one of those Brooklyn fuckboys that take you to the rooftop and offer you a whiteclaw to watch the sunrise together,” Lula gave in.

“Oh, and they take candid pictures, and they say that their phone camera isn’t as good as their polaroid,” Julia laughed, “But hey, you’re lucky they took you to the rooftop, they never take anyone there, they took you there just because you’re…”

“Different,” Julia, Lula and you chanted.

Matt laughed, “You guys are the worst.”

“Anyway,” Lula said. “We should drink these,” she pointed at the shot glasses as she raised her own. “I came here to get drunk. So, to Y/N being thankful Tom was a piece of shit even when the boy had a dreamy accent?”

You closed your eyes, and let out a defeated dry chuckle. “Yes, to that.”

“To the piece of shit, then!” Lula grinned as the shots clinked and were downed. You instantly regretted drinking it.

Lula scowled as she had her eyes glued back at the bar, “It’s him, Julia, it’s him! What is he doing here? Pendejo, I swear to god I’ll go kill him.” She was furious, and you tried once again following her gaze.

The bar was crowded, red lights crossed around the place, with girls walking with tall heels, trying to smile and nod at guys who were talking to them but clearly were not of interest to them. Friends laughing, people flirting. You didn’t know who your friends were watching.

But the bar seemed to be enough of a reminder of him. How he had made you feel like crowds were never there, and how whenever you had been with him everything disappeared just to be with him.

“Who are we killing?” You questioned.

“Is new y/n a murderer?” Asked Matt. Matt and Julia were your oldest friends. The three of you grew up in Staten Island, and now moved to the crowded places.

Lula coughed. “Hope she is.” Lula, on the other hand, you’ve met in college, she was a very defined addition to the friend group. With more personality. A strong one. Lula, Julia and you shared a small apartment.

Julia cleared her throat.

“The fucking scarf,” Lula scowled.

“What scarf?” Matt asked. And you had the same question.

Julia whispered to her boyfriend’s ear who had turned cold. He lifted his head.

“But it’s not.”

“It is him,” Matt confirmed to Lula. “Jules, it is.”

And now your three friends were acting strange. Usually they did but this was strang-er. They all shared looks, Julia struggled with her hands.

They were watching you with pity but you’d gotten used to that. After the breakup they had been extra careful around you, kinder, you guessed.

Fools they were to believe that by not mentioning him you wouldn’t think of him. He was a memory that would haunt you for the rest of the days.

“So, y/n,” Julia was clearly hiding whatever Lula was seeing.

“Wasn’t he in London? What in this fucking world is he doing here?” Lula continued.

“Shut up!” Julia ordered.

“London?” You asked and you lifted your head, and any noise that was bustling before had stopped.

Tom.

Tom was there.

Thomas.

Tom who had broken your heart. In every possible way that he could’ve. Like he had planned it. Like he was aware.

He was there, on a stool with a beer in his hand and wearing a red scarf. The red scarf. As if he was mocking you.

Tom.

Did he pride on hurting you?

He had always said you were invincible. That you were unrivaled in matters of the heart. Was he proud he had beaten the unbeaten?

You’d always thought he would.

When we love deeply, getting hurt comes as a given. But when we love deeply, we are never expecting it to come. And when it does come the skies cannot turn grayer. Funny thing, you were a fan of the rain but when the rain doesn’t cease, the hope doesn’t perdure.

But he was back in your life. Or at least he had been in the same room as you after months.

What was he doing back in New York with your scarf?

You turned back to your own table, breathing in quickly, bringing your hand to your chest in an attempt to calm yourself down.

You saw your friends speaking but you couldn’t make a word of what they’re saying. Your heart was rushing. Thomas was there. Tom. Your Tom. And there was a part of you that had completely forgotten over the heartbreak and wanted to run to him.

Kiss him, try to fix it. Try to bring back the beautiful thing you both had. Because it was. And it hurt looking back.

You were having trouble breathing now, the heartbreak had come.

That’s the worst thing about heartbreak. You never saw it coming, though you should’ve. Though it was beautiful you’d known from the start you’d end up hurt. But when a lie is crafted so beautifully, how could you?

“It’s him.” The words had come in whispers.

You barely remembered what had happened next. You had only stood up, decisive to leave, you’d seen him try to walk his way to you. You’d heard him call your name, but you hadn’t turned back, you had seen Matty stop him from running to you.

It was blurry. You didn’t know how you got home. Desperately trying to understand why he was there and how the night had turned too badly.

Lula and Matt had come back later to find Julia trying to comfort you, hugging a pillow that you were sure he had slept on. Breathless.

But it was in the past now, you were there again. Same bar, both in stools far away.

You were almost sure he’d gone to that bar in hopes of finding you again.

Just like you’d gone again.

His eyes the night before were guilty. You only took a deep breath, you remembered trying to avoid his glance at any chance as you had walked out.

Why were you there again?

That feeling in your chest growing, like there was something heavy expanding. Yet your stomach falling smaller. The pain was but a shield, as if it was creating a special protection around your heart, and though it hurt it was enough for it to make your heart strong to leave the place.

You didn’t want to see Tom. You hadn’t talked to him since. Even when he’d tried to call. Even when you’d tried calling.

Not when you had replayed the breakup over and over and over again since he was gone.

Everyone deals with breakups in different ways. Yours, specifically, was avoiding it. Everything and everyone. Especially Tom.

It was hard when he was everywhere. In that tattoo he’d convinced you to get, in that ring he’d left, in that cereal box that you still hadn’t finished. Whenever you listened to a song he’d recommended. Whenever you’d open Netflix and that series you had started watching together was still recommended to you even when you’d deleted it.

Everywhere.

You couldn’t use your favorite colors because you could hear it, in the back of your head “I love how it looks on you.” “You should wear more blue, it suits you.”

Even your stupid laugh remind you of him. “Your laugh is the most wonderful thing I’ve heard, even if it’s so ugly.”

You missed the person you were when he was with you. How everything was happy. Who was that y/n? Who didn’t mind if she was slightly late to a place because he’d come with you? Who didn’t feel alone at parties when she knew nobody because you knew him?

A y/n that existed only for a short period of time when he’d been around and that he’d shattered like glass when he had the chance.

You missed that y/n.

The y/n that would sometimes lose her breath and catch it back when he walked into the room. A y/n that sang along to her favorite songs all day. The one that would give her heart in a rush to him. The one that watched movies no matter if they were good or not.

Life had colors back then.

Now you were full of regrets and of doubts. Wondering what you had done wrong? Where did it lead you?

You looked up at him then. He was staring down at his glass.

There was a slight trace of him still there, the Tom you once loved. The one with the silly smile and the gentle chuckle, the one with the jokes about everything.

You wondered how much of that y/n he saw too.

You were the same two people, in essence. But how different you were now.

The Tom you knew before finding out it was a lie.

There was still a hint. You knew. But there was so much of him in you that it was hard to see if you still were there. Or the Tom you thought you knew. Not the one with the lie. Or maybe this was the truest Tom he could ever be.

He had to move on, rather quickly, you recalled. If he ever did.

There was a stupid reminder of you in his hand, that red scarf from the very first day.

You still remembered how it all started, a stupid red scarf. He kept it, then, and he wore it.

You had ordered a beer, too. You pocketed the cap again.

But there was an image in your mind, maybe he had gone back and probably had his arm around her and he laughed at a joke she made. Maybe she was funnier than you. Definitely prettier, with her hair falling down all the way to her waist, her clothing accentuating everything you didn’t have.

You recalled having to leave the room when you found out. You had been a mess.

Leaning against a wall as you caught your breath before the tears came down, as if he had pierced right through it. A pain chest that had expanded all the way on your body, not sure how you were able to keep walking back to your place. Falling down to your knees when you did.

Pain. Words failed to describe such a deep sentiment.

But it was gone now. Not entirely but at least you could hold your breath fine when he was just across the room.

What went wrong?

You could ask him. He was right there.

Maybe even tell him how you had lost sight. He hadn’t walked up to you. He was nervous, but he seemed calm enough to see you were there. You were still unsure why you had gone there.

Maybe all the good things were enough to bring you there, maybe the fact that you still didn’t believe it was a lie brought you there. Maybe the fact that one of those pictures from that photobooth was still in a locket. So stupid.

He fiddled with the glass.

You waited and waited but he didn’t approach you. He took out a paper out of his pocket as he stared at it.

You wouldn’t approach him. No matter how happy he had made you once, you wouldn’t walk to him. No matter how beautiful it was. No matter if you were lonely and that when you dared to sleep he’d be haunting your dreams.

It was a tragedy now. What you both were, and not even worth enough to try and save it. You knew you were haunting him too. Otherwise he wouldn’t be here.

He was shakin, as he stared at you, nervous. He downed his drink, you guessed it was for some liquid courage and stood up, with the note in one hand and your red scarf in the other.

Your own courage for coming here was gone, as you saw his intentions, the urge to run you had the night before was becoming you. But he couldn’t walk. He had to sit down again, rubbing his face.

The courage that had come when choosing what Lula called the ‘revenge black dress’ was nowhere in sight. You were cold and regretting putting it on.

“I can’t do this,” you said to yourself and quickly let out some dollars to pay for your drink before picking up your stuff to leave.

You saw he panicked when he saw you leaving, he quickly called the bartender to pay for his drink.

You closed your coat as you were shaking yourself, punishing yourself for going there. Why had you gone there? The man had broken your heart? Were you really there to see him?

Was your heart foolish enough to ignore the warnings in your mind once again?

You walked your way to get to the subway station, how irrelevant you were through the crowds. You hadn’t felt this way for a while, caring for the crowds. But you had to get through them. There was a part of you that wished Tom was following you after. But the crowds didn’t let you see if he was.

Besides, you shouldn’t want that.

You finally managed to get to the station, you clung to your purse as you stared at the tracks, waiting for the next train to come. Peaceful it seemed, the station. As peaceful as New York could be. You guessed if you cried nobody would care.

“y/n!” You heard your name in the distance and you couldn’t handle it.

You took a deep breath and shook your head, angrily. Why had you gone? You could’ve easily kept ignoring his calls. You could’ve stayed in your apartment, crying as you watched SNL videos on youtube, or rewatching a cartoon for the hundredth time, letting your own sadness and self pity swallow you.

But you had gone to him. This was your fault. You should’ve taken a cab, instead, he would know you’d get at this station and he for sure would know what train you’d take.

“y/n, y/n!” He kept calling as he finally arrived next to you. “Sorry I would’ve gotten here faster but the damn MetroCard-”

“I’m not doing this, Tom,” you stated before he could go on rambling like the idiot he was. You couldn’t do it. “Not here, not anywhere. I don’t know what you’re doing here.”

“I…” His face was kind, and he seemed to be nervous. You could tell he hadn’t been sleeping, probably the jet lag.

You took a moment to look at him, he didn’t look as victorious as you had thought he was. His hair was messy, and his cheeks flushed, the buttons on his shirt were not buttoned right.

Seeing him again, with that signature look he had made you want to go down to your knees.

“Aren’t you supposed to be back in London?” You snapped. “With that pretty girl-”

“No, no, I’m-I’m sorry, I’m really sorry,” Tom stuttered. “I was an idiot.”

You stared into his eyes, you were not ready for this. You were not ready to look into his stupid eyes. You looked away. “That’s all you have to say?” You tried walking away from him..

He shook his head. “No, no, no, no, I… No, I actually… I had this… I wrote down my apology,” Tom confessed. He showed you a sad, handwritten paper, now slightly teared up with the ink running. “I… I had….”

You looked down at it, his messy handwriting, crinkled with words scratched down. “You wrote it down?”

You didn’t know why you felt your heart warm. This kind of stuff was why you couldn’t understand what had happened. Someone like him, who writes his apologies down. Someone who stutters when he’s speaking.

“Yeah, I… but I spilled my drink on it after seeing you fled,” He explained, swallowing hard. “I… I… I had written it down so I wouldn’t forget it but now I realize how stupid that is… I’m… I’m really sorry, y/n.” .

You could hear the train coming. You were seeing him again. It hit you right there. And this was not the reaction you thought. You had said you would be delusional, crying and fighting and questioning him why the fuck he had done that.

Yet you weren’t. You were only watching him, eyes full of tears wanting to slide down but unable to. But there was that pain still in your chest.

How could he ever dare to hurt you that way? “I don’t want to talk to you,” you said. And meant it. “Please leave me alone.” You said before walking into the train.

“Y/N, please, no, please, please, listen to me,” He followed you in, the scarf still in his hand.

You tried sitting as far away as you could. Arms and legs crossed as you tried breathing in.

He sat beside you and you changed seats. He sighed but followed you again. “Please, I need to talk to you. I never meant to hurt you.”

“Well you did,” you snapped. “You did, and now you come here a month later with a handwritten note apology thinking I will be fine with it?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I had to solve-Please, would you listen?” Tom asked, knowing damn well he had to ask, and not just straight up blurt it out.

“Why would I, Tom?” You turned to him, with a tear traveling down your cheek. You were incredulous. “You’re kidding me, right? I… You… You think that just because you show up with that stupid face of yours and my scarf I’ll want to listen to you? You’re an idiot.”

He sighed and reached to give you the scarf. You ignored it.You were furious now.

The other people on the train were certainly getting a show. A guy with a backpack was trying to pretend he wasn’t listening but his reactions were giving it away. Another woman pretended to keep reading her book but she hadn’t turned any pages.

Tom took the scarf back staring at it. “I need to explain everything to you.”

“What if I don’t want an explanation?” You snapped. Though you did. You had been waiting for one, you wanted one. You would beg for it. But your pride was taking the wheel of the conversation. “Don’t you think it’s fucking late for it?”

“Is it?” Tom turned back to you.

“Yes!” You couldn’t believe him. But this seemed a bit too familiar of a conversation. “And beside no explanation would make me forgive you!” You stated, whispering, not wanting any of the attention you were receiving.

“I’m not… I… If you just listen to me,” Tom said.

You glared, “I don’t want anything to do with you.”

“Then why did you come to the bar?” He asked.

He fucking asked.

Your eyes widened. He had gone there. He knew. He fucking knew you’d gone back because you wanted an explanation. Or so he thought. No, you’d gone back because… Yes, because you wanted an explanation. Because everything he’d done had been beautiful. Until the heartbreak. He had crafted and vexed his way into your cold stupid heart and then he had gone and pierced right through it, crushed it.

You wanted to ask why. Why did he do it so vehemently?

You didn’t answer, instead you moved one seat away. He kept his eyes on you.

“You wouldn’t have gone if you didn’t want an explanation,” he said. “Or to see me, at least. I know I did, I needed to see you.”

You saw the guy with the backpack purse his lips, knowing that Tom had got you. There was little context for them. The girl with the book directed a glance to you, trying to read your emotions.

If they knew, they’d be on your side and yelling at him as well.

He rested his elbows on his knees and rubbed his face.

“I didn’t, it was a coincidence,” you answered coldly.

“No, it bloody wasn’t,” Tom scoffed and then sat up. “No, I’m… No, but you know, you went to the bar for a reason.”

“And I left for a million more,” you frowned.

Tom pursed his lips and took out the paper again, trying to make out whatever he’d written before. “I’m really sorry.” His eyes traced through the note.

“Are you genuinely trying to read it? Don’t you know what you’re supposed to apologize for?”

Tom looked up, “So you do want me to apologize?”

The guy with the backpack squeezed his eyes shut, knowing Tom had fucked up.

“You’re kidding, right? Yes, you have to apologize, what you did is really, really shitty!” You pointed out.

“But you won’t forgive me, then?” Tom watched you.

“I don’t know,” you said and he looked up, a beaming gaze. “No, I won’t.”

He wrinkled his eyes, “I… I know I’m supposed to apologize, not to expect you to forgive. I'm just…”

He gulped, and then sat back, staring at the dirty walls and lights. He had dressed up. Badly, but he had tried looking good, you could tell. You could smell his lotion, too.

He was fiddling with the paper, crumpling up and then it fell to the floor. You looked at it and somehow related to it, not sure how.

You took a deep breath so you wouldn’t kill him and turned to him. “I have questions for you, if you answer them I might consider listening to you.”

Tom’s eyes brightened up. “Yes, yes, anything.”

You eyed him up and down as he watched you with begging eyes. You avoided his gaze. Tom followed your gaze as you tried to figure out what was the first thing you could ask him. Why had he hurt you?

Why did he not stop and think before making you fall in love with him?

Why did he not stop and tell you the truth?

“Where are you staying?” You asked,

Tom blinked. “Is that… is that the question?”

“No, but I know you don’t know how to fucking get anywhere,” you said.

Tom gulped, “I… uh, again with Harrison,” he explained.

You sighed. You remembered Harrison alright. And though there was a petty part inside you, you would help him out. Knowing he’d always get lost in the city. Though you could let him get lost, so you’d have to go after him and spend a bit more time. With an excuse, because you didn’t seem to have any excuse to be with him.

It hurt. What hurt the most was trying not to look back at the incredible moments you had because none of them were true.

You sighed. “Okay, when we get down you’ll take the F train—“

Tom stopped you, taking your hand. “No, wait, I don’t care if I get lost, okay, I… I just.”

You snatched your hand away from his cold hands he had. You darkened your gaze at him.

“Please, Y/n, I just need a chance. If you don’t want to listen… maybe I’ll just…” He handed you the note.

You crossed your arms, and tapped your foot, trying to decide whether or not to give it to him. “Fine,” you took the note.

You've gotten to your stop. So you stood up.

The girl with the book and the guy with the backpack watched you both as you walked out, pitying they couldn’t follow the drama.

Tom followed after you, he licked his lips. “You… you had questions, right?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, taking yet another heavy breath. You turned on your feet to look at him “One, did you lie to me?”

Tom was taken back by this, his eyes, consternated, only watched you. He gulped. “What?”

“Did you lie to me?

“I… well.”

You were getting desperate. “Did you ?”

“I didn’t lie about how I felt,” he said. You knew he wasn’t lying about it. He couldn’t. He couldn’t have ever lied about how he felt because you knew he had felt it too, a bit, at least,

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“I mean it, I…” Tom gulped. “I really liked you.”

“Yeah, I know, you liked me yadda, yadda,” you started. Liked not loved. “Cut the bullshit for once, did you or did you not lie to me?”

Tom took a deep breath. “Yes. But I had feelings for you.”

You bit your inner cheeks. “Uh-huh, yes, okay, good, yes, you acknowledge it. So, we have two statements here, Tom. You say you had feelings yet you lied to me,” you squinted. “Sounds-”

Tom gulped and avoided your gaze. “I know yes,” he looked down. “But, if you give me-”

“Ah, buh-buh, nope, I’m just gathering my thoughts here,” you coughed. “I need you to look me in the eyes and tell me what you felt.”

Tom shook his head in confusion. “I—I’m”

“Go on,” you motioned your hand.

“Y/N,” he said. And the way he dared to say your name was like having a knife right through you. “I had—I have feelings for you,” he said looking right into your eyes.

He didn’t say what feelings.

You were not sure where you wanted to go with this. “Fine, my next question…” you really didn’t know where this was going. “So, alright, you…” You couldn’t even phrase it. “You… made me fall in love with you knowing….Well, we both know what you did. What you hid from me. You’re a liar who made me—“

Tom took a deep breath. “Yes, but I didn’t… plan that.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh, so it’s my fault?” You stepped back. “Sorry for developing feelings for you. Sorry for ruining your life—“

Tom closed his eyes, “No, no, look, I… wasn’t. I didn’t come here expecting to meet you, I didn’t want… It just happened, okay, I never thought—You're making it sound like it’s some big master plan. I—I never planned—I never would’ve ever planned on hurting you.”

You watched him, incredulous. “Thomas you do realize what you did to me?”

“I do.”

“No, you don’t! You’re trying to make me seem like I’m crazy for not even wanting to talk to you!” You called him out.

“I’m not, I’m just saying that if you’re here—you must miss it too, you know it was too real, and you want it back, possibly—M-maybe not, but if you came to the bar tonight it was in hopes of finding me again because you knew I’d be there, and you want to feel how you felt before, and i just… you know I miss it and that you knew I didn’t lie—“

You glared at him. “You did lie!”

“Okay—yes, yes I did—But not entirely, I just happened to omit one truth—“

“One very important truth,” you snarked.

“Fine but—please listen,” he tried to convince you. “and I’m sorry, okay? I—I didn’t want to hurt you. But I never planned this. It just happened. I didn’t come here expecting to fall in love with anyone, I didn’t come here trying to date, and I never expected it to be someone as complex—“

“Complex?”

“Yes, I never came to New York trying to find the most mental relationship I’ve ever had—“

“Mental?” You snapped.

“Yes! I love you but you’re fucking crazy! And I am too! I’m fucking crazy and mental but I—I—I loved being crazy and mental with you! We are fucking mental! Driving to nowhere? Breaking into places? Getting a jukebox on the subway? That’s mental! But—but I love that about you, alright? Don’t you get it? I could’ve stayed in London, I could've been the asshole who just ditched you and lied to you—“

You scoffed. “Well that’s comforting!”

“But I’m—I’m here, ain’t I? And I know I fucked up, I know, I accept that, I’m the asshole here, and I know you’ll never—I hid it from you because I didn’t know what was going on, I didn’t even get it myself. I’m here to give you my version of it. I didn’t realize I was falling in love with you…I am…,I am in love with you, and I never planned that, I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with someone else, it just happened. I may have thought it was just—Some fling, initially.”

You laughed cynically. “A fling.”

He gulped. “And the moment I realized what was really going on—”

“You left, that’s what you fucking did, when you realized it was way too real for you, you destroyed the one real thing you’ve ever known,” you barked, he stepped back. “I fell in love with you, I—I—and then you ditched me, and I thought that was the worst thing you could ever do to me but then I realized that it wasn’t real! I—you were never mine, Tom! I simply was—a break you needed or—a fling.”

“It wasn’t that—“

You watched him. Looking so innocent, kind eyes and tender lips. You would’ve believed him had he come before.

“You used me!” You snapped, the words that had wanted to come for a while just blurted out. “I just can’t believe you,” you said. “You don’t feel sorry.” You shook your head, your voice was cracking. “You're not sorry because you don’t understand. You don’t know what I went through, and if you had come earlier, if you hadn’t left me, I probably would have believed you. But—No! No!” You stepped back. “No!”

“I did call! You never picked up the phone! I tried—“Tom started.

“Was I really expected to pick it up? Let’s get back to it. Shall we? The facts. Did you or did you not date me? And made me fall in love with you?”

Tom sighed. “I—yes.”

“Did you lie?”

“��yes.”

You nodded. “Was I the other one?”

Tom squinted his eyes. “No… yes, no.”

You took a deep breath. “Did you leave me without an explanation?”

Tom looked down. “I did.”

“Did you ditch me?”

Tom looked everywhere and nowhere. “Yes,” he answered, defeated.

“Now, do you think I can ever forgive you?”

Tom didn’t answer.

You reached for your purse, for the locket that dug deep inside. “I don’t know you,” you stated giving him the locket, the stupid locket you’d bought as a joke when making fun of other couples and now laughed in your face. “Whatever happened means nothing. Because that’s the thing Tom. Everything we lived was a lie, those two people in the locket are not us, because you weren’t who you said you were, no matter how much I loved it, it’s not true and though it was too many emotions all at once I’m—It’s not real, not for you. I spent this whole time thinking I wanted you to apologize but I don’t want it. That charming guy wasn’t truly you because you omitted one very important thing. You—What were you thinking? Were you planning to never say it? Or did you plan it like that? Just ditching me, hoping I wouldn’t find out—“

Tom took a deep breath. “No—No, I didn’t. I just—-I didn’t know what to do. I’m so sorry, I should’ve told you and I should’ve fixed it before—-“

“No, no you didn’t because it wasn’t enough for you.”

Tom gulped, “It was, it was—-the best thing I’ve ever had.”

“And you ruined it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“How little words mean when you’re a little too late, huh?” And that was the cue you needed to walk away. He silently watched you as you tried not to cry.

“I’m really sorry.” He said.

Was he?

“What if I try to prove it to you?” He asked as you were steps away from him.

You didn’t stop.

“If we go over this, you’ll see I never lied about it.” He continued.

“I already went over it, I remember everything, Tom, and maybe that’s why I don't want to talk to you.”

Tom walked behind, slowly. “I just happened to be very unlucky when it came to my own circumstances,” he reached over. “And I wish the timing had been better. But you’re right, it’s the one real thing I’ve ever had and I lost it because I hid something in fear of losing you. I lied because it was too good to be true. And I understand if you don’t want anything to do with me but I think you deserve to know why. But you went to the bar for a reason, and you had the locket for another.”

You stopped this time. Looking down at the floor and then at his hand, holding your stupid scarf. You shook your head, you really didn’t want to go through it all over again.

“I know you won’t forgive me,” he stated. “But I can’t let you go. You’re everywhere. And I miss the person I was when you were around, and I won’t stop fighting because you’re everywhere. Dreams, nightmares.”

Funny. You were his demons too.

“Am I haunting your nightmares?” You asked. Tom only watched you.

He took a deep breath. “I don’t expect you to forgive me, I just need—I really need you to listen to my version.”

“Fine then, let’s go down this sad, beautiful tragic love affair.”

-

next chapter

want to be tagged?(please say it's for red)

tag list and some friends: @noorrussell @nocturnalms @xxconfettiitsaparade @annathesillyfriend @butterflies-glitter @tomkindholland @the-salty-asian @words-to-accomplish-something @harryhollandsgirlfriend @bibliophilewednesday @tomhollandsbitch8 @boiolay @wizkiddx @spideyssunshine @parkertommy @erodasghosts @onewithnomightypowers @sunflowersandaydreams @tomshufflepuff @uglypastels @lilacsandwhiskey @badhollandfluff @saintlavrents @enilemes @white-wolf1940 @mannien @softholand @youcompletemesk @ughdangs@obiwanownsmyass @sleepingdancer @lonely-sag @n-pg-pw @readheadwriter @parkersroses @petesrparker

[newtonsheffield]

Sorry it was the Met and it’s currently London Fashion Week and all I can see is Supportive boyfriend Goose winning the hearts of High Fashion twitter by being their for Eddie. like holding the train of her dress on the steps or smth . Can you imagine the adorableness? Just Kate, Anthony and Goose sat in the front row while Ed walks down.

Ohhhh Supportive Boyfriend Goose is his natural form tbh.

And I feel like London Fashion week would be Edwina's big event of the year, and the world kind of knows that Edwina Sheffield is dating a normalo but he's never appeared at any of her public events really and what no one knows is Matthew Goose Bagwell, put a ring on it a few days before the biggest week of Edwina's year!

"You really, really don't have to come with me." Edwina had said gently, her fingers pushing his hair back from his eyes as they lay in bed together, the New York skyline stretched out through the window behind him.

"Mmmm Yes, I do." He hummed, his heart hammering away just like it always did in her presence. "Because if I don't who, pray tell, is going to make sure you can move around in that dress."

Edwina rolled her eyes, though her smile was still so beautiful it made his chest ache, "It's actually kind of my job to move around in ridiculous outfits would you believe?"

Matthew let out a faux gasp, "It never is!" He could feel the cool metal of her engagement ring on the side of his face, still a little odd after only a few days, still a little odd to imagine this woman would have said yes in the first place. Would have let him place the sapphire ring on her hand at all.

"I have to start getting ready." Edwina groaned, rolling away from him, slipping into the robe. "My entire team will be here soon."

"What can I get for you?"

She rolled her eyes again, "You don't have to do that, I hate to say it, because it sounds like some rich white nonsense but I have people for that."

"I want to take care of you." He couldn't stop staring at her, in the late morning sunlight, streaming through the window, and she always looked so beautiful, everyone knew that, but right here, in these moments, with her hair tangled, and no make up on she's really at her most beautiful. And she was his to look after, to care for. His father running off with another woman had taught him one thing: A real man looked after his family and Edwina Sheffield was his family now.

So he spent all day, giving her sips of water while her make up team fussed around her, then the hair stylist, who also saw fit to attack his hair with a round brush at the very last second as Edwina kissed his cheek.

"I definitely have the most handsome date tonight." Edwina hummed as he buttoned himself into the oddest tux he'd ever worn in his life, the armour plates stiff on his shoulders.

He scoffed, "Well, I doubt that, Michael and Frankie are here."

"Oh, but then in your opinion I won't even be the prettiest girl here." She hummed amusedly as a team of women buttoned her into her gown.

"I don't have a crush on Francesca Bridgerton!" Matt felt his cheeks flush as the team of women chuckle. "I just respect her acting!"

And then the women stopped back from his fiancée and really, as if he could ever think about anyone else when she looked like that. The gold armour of her dress was glinting in the light, the long train swept behind her, shining in silver, her dramatic make up making her look so different from the woman he'd fallen in love with, but it was still her. Just a different part of her, and for the rest of his life he'd love them all.

He was sweating by the time their car was at the front of the queue, anxiety rolling in his stomach as their car rolled slowly forward, Edwina's hand squeezing his reassuringly.

"Just smile. That's all you have to do, you'll finally see how easy my job is." And then the door was opened.

Matthew forced his feet forward, racing around the car ignoring the flashing cameras, waving off the people who had stepped forward to help Edwina from the car, leaning into her lips as she kissed his cheek, unable to help the smile that came to his face.

"There's that smile." She took his arm as they walked the short distance, pausing for pictures, and then she started ascending the steps and Matt couldn't help himself. He, a little reluctantly released her arm, waving her forward as she frowned, stooping to catch the train of her dress, laying it out perfectly as the cameras flashed all around him, and all he could do was stare in wonder at this beautiful woman, who for some unknown reason had picked him to spend the rest of her life with.

"Matt, come here." Her hand was held out towards him, beckoning him forward, and he couldn't help but stumble just a little in his hurry to get to her, the assembled media chuckling a little.

"You'll have to excuse him, he's a little new at this." Edwina called out, another chuckle as she wrapped her arm around his waist and then in front of everyone, she tugged him down until their lips met, and goddamn it, he was the luckiest bastard alive.

Apparently, everyone else agreed with him, if the tweets and headlines he snuck a peek at the next morning were anything to go by.

I'm sorry who is this handsome little nerd Edwina Sheffield has brought with her?!

He's helping her out of the car, oh that's sweet.

As Always Edwina Sheffield is BOG

Oh he's holding her dress for her!!!!!! Edwina Sheffield's boyfriend is the SWEETEST I can't I actually can't

Why are they so fucking CUTE?! ENOUGH!

WAIT IS THAT A RING ON HER HAND?! MA'AM!

Buzzfeed: Edwina Sheffield's boyfriend has a name and no, it's not just Daddy.

*Previous versions of this article referred to Matthew Bagwell as Sheffield's Boyfriend, However it has been confirmed through her publicist and an announcement made in the paper by Sheffield's mother and Sister, that he is in fact engaged to the model as of last week.

For fuck's sake! I just learned of Matthew Bagwell's existence and he's already off the market!

[multimetaverse]

HSMTMTS 2x05 Review

The Quinceañero was a truly historic ep featuring the first time two boys have ever kissed on a Disney show. Let’s dig in!

We got the second same-sex kiss in Disney history tonight, Big Shot had the first last Friday, and the first kiss between two boys in Disney history. It’s a huge step forward. That’s not to say that Disney is going to start approving more same-sex kisses or lgbtq relationships or characters but the door is now open and at least some other shows and movies will be able to eventually follow in HSMTMTS steps.

Really nice cover of The Climb, Joe has such a great voice. It was cute that young Seb had watched young Carlos’ dance vid and felt inspired. Frankie and Joe being an irl couple certainly helps give Seblos a good rapport but it also helps that creator and showrunner Tim Federle is an openly gay man himself. I think if a straight man was showrunner we probably wouldn’t get such dedication to Seblos as a couple. 

It was a really funny ep too: Carlos saying his love language is riddles, Ricky asking Nini who they talk to when doing their confessionals, Carlos saying Miss Jenn was a master of smoke and mirrors, Benjamin Mazzara and Mike Bowen interacting. My personal favourite gags were when Big Red said he always wanted a nickname and Kourtney immediately did an office stare and when Nini said Picasso was a terrible person.

Gina still going through it. Kourtney is right that it doesn’t really make sense that Gina is now going to all this trouble for Carlos but to be honest the writing and pacing has been disjointed so far this season so a lot of things aren’t flowing as well as they need to. Is what Gina regrets convincing Ricky to go back on stage as that helped get Rini back together? That’s petty but fair and also true to teenage emotions (though she shouldn’t beat herself up too much, Rini were clearly on the path to getting back together by that point anyway).

Jesus Christ, Ricky needs to read the room. Last ep he correctly realized that Gina wouldn’t want to hear about his Nini issues and tried to stop Big Red from mentioning them but now he’s just doing it himself? Obviously they’re trying to drill in the fact that for now Rina is one sided but it’s a little much. Also really doesn’t make sense that Ricky wouldn’t go to Kourtney or Big Red for this kind of advice.

Sofia Wylie was killing it this ep, both her and Joe are showstoppers. A Dancer’s Heart was great and she did a good job of acting on the verge of tears almost the entire ep

At least EJ actually thought to ask Gina how she’s feeling though and she clearly appreciated it after she got over her shock. It does seem that reports of Portwell’s demise were greatly exaggerated, with the music and the longing stares they’re setting up for at least EJ to have a crush on Gina. Hell even Mazzara picked up on it at the end. I had noted last week that it seemed like Gina’s story line in S2 was being thrown out of balance by the writers dropping a planned Portwell plot and sure enough this week we actually begin to see Gina’s story arc not being entirely her pining over Ricky. 

EJ also benefits by being given something to do instead of just standing around in the back. I’m glad he took Mazzara up on the AV club offer and they have a nice mentor-mentee relationship going on. It’s also a nice little parallel with 1x05 when Gina told off EJ and had a moment with Ricky and now in 2x05 Gina tells off Ricky and has a moment with EJ. 

Matt seemingly dismissed Portwell as a friendship rather than even hinting at something between them. I guess he could have been told to keep it under wraps as much as possible but odd that they wouldn’t hype it a bit; it’s not like this came completely out of left field, people were wondering if Portwell might happen because of the moment they had in 1x10 and the facetime call they had before S2. Sofia has already said that Gina will have love interests this season and EJ being one, even if it’s brief, would make whole lot of sense since there’s really no one else for except Jack who only shows up much later and doesn’t seem to be in more than an ep or two.

Rini was sweet tonight. Yes Ricky is being clingy which stems in large part from his mom’s abandonment and in fairness Ricky and Nini have probably been used to spending much of their time with each other since they were kids. Loved that ‘I think you kinda you know’’ call back tonight. Looks like Nini will be cast as the Rose which should be interesting.

Miss Jenn is pulling Mike Bowen, Ben Mazzara, and Zach Roy. Good for her! Jike shippers certainly feasted tonight as Mike crashed a teen bday party just to see Miss Jenn and we got confirmation that everyone’s fave Disney Dilf was born in the 70s and must be no older than 51.

Well gotta love Lily’s commitment to bringing down East High and drinking scalding hot black coffee. She really seems like she just stepped off the set of Glee

Really hope we see those puppies and man was that wolf adorable

Not both HSMTMTS and Love Victor both making Okay Boomer jokes (it worked when Pilar said it to Felix but not when Ricky said it to his dad)

Big Red exposing Kourtney and Howie was good and it looks like their plot kicks into high gear next ep

Bet Tim thought he was real clever for that shot of Mazzara, Mike, and Miss Jenn in a triangle

A well shot ep except for one weird  and abrupt cut from Mazzara saying Caswell to Seblos outside the barn

Looking Ahead:

EJ stopping Gina from leaving would certainly further their relationship and would parallel him being the one to bring her back in S1. I still don’t get why they didn’t just use the Valentine’s chocolates as a plot device to further this plot; just have EJ secretly send them as he was also lonely and you can still have Gina think they were from Ricky.

From what I’ve seen online this Portwell hint has been controversial. It’s true that there’s an age gap between the characters of 2ish years and a much bigger one between the actors but I don’t think that will stop Tim as he already had EJ date Nini. I’ve also seen comments that it would be a bad idea since EJ is leaving at the end of S2 once he graduates but he’s not actually leaving, they’ll keep him around in some fashion until the current juniors graduate. 

So far it seems like Rini is the Rucas of hsmtmts, Rina is the Lucaya, and Portwell is the Joshaya.

Kowie starts progressing a bit next ep and we may possible see Antoine next week or the week after according to Larry.

Presumably Ricky’s clinginess starts causing trouble between him and Nini.

Still so funny that North High just up and decided to do Beauty and the Beast just to bring down East High.

Until next week wildcats

[firelxdykatara]

not gonna lie I would love to hear more about the drama and infighting that went on in The Vampire Diaries fandom if you have the time (and also want to use that time to give your experience with the fandom, which from the snippets you've told sounds Not Fun so I get it if you don't want to lol)

oh god, there was like, SO MUCH, i just

i really feel like tvd is one of those fandoms that is so hard to describe without a lot of ‘you’d have to have been there’, but it really felt like this huge and all-consuming beast for about five years until the show finally imploded and the fandom basically turned on it en masse. (you ever see that post going around that’s like ‘if you ever want to know what true regret feels like, ask someone who once called tvd their favorite show’? still a mood, all these years later. basically the entire fandom thought the show should have just bowed out with whatever shreds of dignity it had left at the end of season 6, and became more of a hatedom than a fandom for the last two seasons. when you have an entire fandom cheering news of your show’s cancellation, i think that’s a sign you done fucked up, julie.)

first and most infamous, of course, are the ship wars. which are pretty much inevitable in any teen-centered drama, and i really think the CW fucking thrives on them, but it was particularly egregious in TVD’s case because not only was the base premise of the show a love triangle, but the two main romantic leads were brothers that the show constantly pit against one another--in pursuit of elena’s affections, but also because it kept up this insistence on the ‘good brother/bad brother’ dichotomy which stopped making sense after about season 2 (by which time we have found out that the good brother was never as good as he appeared, and the bad brother has been growing and isn’t nearly as bad as he pretends to be)--and the question of which brother ‘deserved’ elena (and no, what elena wanted very rarely factored into these discussions, especially in the team stefan camp because they turned on her when what she wanted was no longer The Good Brother, but i’ll get to that in a bit) was hotly contested.

i’m not kidding when i say the shipping wars were vicious. i started watching tvd shortly after it began to air, which was late 2009, and kept up with it fairly sporadically over the years. i didn’t come onto tumblr until 2011/2012, and by then, the fandom was already pretty much a garbagefire. there were anti ship and anti character blogs, any time something bad happened for one ship the rival ship would invade the tags to gloat about it (seasons 3 and 4 were especially rough, and i’m not gonna pretend delena fans weren’t just as bad about tag invasion and shit, but as that was my side of the road i saw a lot more of the stelena shippers being assholes, which soured my opinion on the ship a long time before i started rewatching and realized the red flags were there from the start), confessions blogs were popular also toxic as fuck (so much fighting happened in the notes of those posts, good gods), and this was right around when twitter’s popularity was on the rise and the line between Celebrity and Fan was thinning, so the fandom was absolutely atrocious to much of the tvd cast and crew.

(some of them deserved a lot of the later backlash, but in the early years a lot of it was ‘how dare you write the story in a way i dont like, you terrible fucking person’, and gods don’t get me started on the dobsley vs nian Thing)

i think what really encapsulates my feelings on the tvd fandom as a whole, though, is the way they (to this DAY) treated elena gilbert, which can be summed up in one meme that gained a lot of traction around season 3 if i remember right: that gif of pam from true blood, with the text altered to read “i’m so OVER elena and her precious doppelganger vagina!”

i swear at one time i had over half the active tvd fan accounts on tumblr blocked, because i got to a point where i would no longer tolerate elena hate, and she was (and still is, in what remains of the fandom; you’ll see a lot of ‘elena was one of the worst things about the show’ takes from ex-fans, too) one of the most widely despised characters in the entire fandom. because she -checks smudged writing on hand- was a traumatized teenage girl who -reads off a crumpled notecard- couldn’t always perfectly sort out her own feelings and -squints at the ceiling- sometimes made mistakes or bad decisions. (except a lot of the fandom also insisted that she was a mary sue who had no character traits or flaws or faults and it was like....make up your fucking minds???? is she a calculating conniving bitch whose somehow manipulating these centuries old vampires to tie them around her little finger or is she a boring flat character with no depth and no flaws??? jfc)

there was this massive double standard, too--like, stefan and damon could fuck whoever they wanted and that was fine, but elena was constantly raked over the coals for the crime of developing romantic feelings for the two men who had become constants in her life and whom she cared for deeply, and oh my GOD the slut shaming that happened when elena slept with damon was fucking wild. (and also happened in canon lmfao. like the show had one of elena’s best friends basically call her diseased on screen for falling in love with someone other than stefan. it was gross and ridiculous and the friend in question was also being a giant hypocrite at the time since she was happily flirting with someone who was directly responsible for the deaths of like four of elena’s loved ones and her own boyfriend’s mother but that’s beside the point) but like elena was called a slut and a bitch and a whore for ‘cheating’ on stefan (she hadn’t, and she had in fact broken up with him on screen the episode earlier) and ‘immediately’ jumping into bed with damon, even though none of them said fucking boo when stefan had one night stands or damon had fuckbuddies or whatever.

shit, caroline didn’t get any of this treatment when she started falling for tyler while dating matt! which isn’t to say i think she should have, just that i think it’s fucking ridiculous that elena was absolutely demonized by the fandom for daring to have feelings for two guys at once and eventually acting on them--despite the fact that the entire premise of the show was a love triangle. it’s not a love triangle if both sides don’t eventually get explored, and the crew had been pretty explicit about the fact that delena was going to happen at some point--but when it did, a huge chunk of the fandom absolutely threw a fit.

and a lot of these elena haters were alleged stelena stans, and i say alleged because they hated her so much for not wanting stefan’s dick anymore that it was clear they were really stefan stans and only wanted stelena to be endgame because they wanted stefan to ‘win’ at the end of the day, because ‘he’s the good brother’ so he deserved elena more.

it was all very gross and very misogynistic and very sex shaming (apparently delena was a ‘shallow’ and ‘superficial’ relationship because they had sex after two years of unrequited feelings slowly becoming requited and then pining for ages on both sides, and because they had a lot of on screen chemistry that the show capitalized on for years so of course they did a lot of making out and shit but it’s not like stelena didn’t have its fair share of making out and sex scenes, stefan was just too much of a coward to let elena top i’d apologize for that joke but i’m really not sorry because it’s true), and when i say it was egged on by the crew, that’s because they refused to let the love triangle die back in season 4 when it should have.

they insisted on stringing stelena fans along, dropping little bread crumbs to keep them invested, like dreams of a future where they were married and revealing that stefan was also a doppelganger and he and elena were descended from a pair of star-crossed lovers (a plot that ultimately went nowhere, to no one’s great surprise), and then fucking like. julie plec turned around and threw nina under the bus after she chose not to extend her contract and pretended that stelena might have happened again if she hadn’t left the show, which....i mean frankly i wouldn’t put it past her, but it would have been shitty writing. then again, she thought having a vampire pregnancy where a uterus was magically transplanted from a witch into a vampire that could somehow......carry the babies to term.... made sense and was a good way to accomodate candice’s RL pregnancy rather than like literally ANYTHING else, soooooo. but anyway julie saying that around like, end of s6 sparked off a new wave of nina hate and elena hate and ship wars bc they SEers took it as ‘confirmation’ that stelena was REALLY meant to be endgame and it was all just a hot fucking mess

another thing is that, while tvd was in its prime before the anti/purity culture shit started picking up any real steam, there was still this pervasive attitude throughout the fandom that if you liked Damon, you were A Bad Person. liking damon was apparently grounds for insults and harassment, and apparently he was The Worst Person on the Show even though literally nothing he does on screen is any worse than shit we know stefan has done (and frankly every other vampire too, but i mention stefan specifically because he was always held up--in the show but especially in the fandom--as the Good Brother while damon was the Bad One, and if you liked damon more then that had to mean your morals were dodgy and you clearly couldn’t appreciate what a heroic and saintly figure dear stefan was and....oops, i’m sorry, my salt keeps leaking -cough-).

meanwhile klaus quickly became a fandom darling despite not even really having much of a redemption arc (on tvd anyway, he just became more ‘affably evil’ as the show went on and more inclined to work with the main characters rather than try to kill them; i have no idea what went on over on his show, though), and like i can 100% appreciate liking villains and not caring that they do dodgy villainous shit, even just liking them bc they’re hot and wanting them to kiss a main character bc they have insanely good chemistry (yes i ship klaroline, no i won’t apologize for it, they could have been Really Great), it’s just really the double standard that gets me.

and all of this, incidentally, required ignoring some truly gross shit stefan was responsible for wrt his relationship with elena, that frankly it has always bothered me never really got addressed in the show. i get why elena herself would never be able to actually call him on it, but the fact is that he stalked her for months after he first saw her and thought she was katherine (meanwhile it only took damon .5 seconds to realize she was someone else entirely, but that’s another topic entirely), and then he deliberately inserted himself into her life because, in his words, ‘i have to know her’. he never gave a thought to how his presence in her life might affect her (or rather, he did, and tormented himself about it in his internal monologue, but never let this actually dissuade him from disrupting her life), and elena would wind up blaming herself for every tragedy that befell her friends and loved ones as a result of getting mixed up in vampire bullshit even though none of it was her fault--she literally blamed herself for existing but most of the fandom didn’t give a fuck about that lmfao--and stefan did shit like find out that she was adopted and then withhold this information from her until she got pissed about another secret he was keeping (her resemblence to katherine) and drop it on her to try and distract her from her very reasonable anger, and like... i should stop before this becomes a whole rant about how much i hate stefan fucking salvatore, but the point is, he did a lot of really sketchy shit he never answered for and elena never really took him to task for, and the fandom just kept eating up his insistence that he was the Good Brother and therefore he deserved to have elena, and if she didn’t want him anymore it was because she was a heinous bitch who didn’t deserve him.

uh.....i think i got off track there. and there’s probably a lot of shit i missed, like i think i was incandescent with rage for most of seasons 5 and 6 so i missed a lot of the interfandom shit cause i was too busy being increasingly pissed off at the show itself, but if nothing else this should give you an idea of how much of a goddamn cesspit the fandom was while the show as in its prime. there’s a reason both the show and the fandom have such a lousy reputation lmfao.

[goblinconceivable]

braindump: betty/daniel

I’ve been living with them for a while, notes taken, a few stories significantly started but there’s a gelling issue, which I’m hoping is at least partially down to a lack of proper braindumping.  So, in no particular order and certainly not comprehensive:

Frankly I also got too hooked on the last 2 eps, which is likely where I’m blocked.  It’s an abrupt emotional twist for them (esp Daniel), and in trying to make sense of that I’m losing focus on the 4 previous years.

- I’m a little bit obsessed in the scene where Betty tries to convince Matt she’s fearless by pointing out her bang-less-ness.  And then runs into Daniel, who is at that moment half brain-washed, but yet when she asks about her fearless quotient his response is immediate and natural and entirely lacking in irony: “no bangs.”  It’s a tiny little moment that shows how well he not only knows her, but understands her.  Without judgment, without fanfare.  Were I to have a husband, this is the sort of response that would confirm I’d married the absolute perfect guy for me.

- They’re too close for mirroring to be an important indicator, but there are two scenes that stand out in this vein: the first is when Betty thinks he may have pushed Christina down the stares and steals the video.  She’s backing out the door, and he follows, matching her step for step.  I love the direction choices because from her perspective there’s a sense of menace, Daniel as potential villain is stalking her.  But from his guileless perspective he’s talking to her and if she’s moving, so is he.  The second is from the penultimate, talking about Trista, where Betty’s rolling back and forth and he moves with her, rather than simply turning his head.  It signals his full engagement in the conversation, seeking her attention, and is why the scene plays as flirting rather than their normal banter.

- That bulletpoint was getting a bit long, so second point on the flirting is that it plays against Betty shutting down the conversation “none of my business,” leading to the fight over involvement in each other’s personal lives, leading to the revelation that they know each other at that deep personal level so very, very well.  Which was a very clumsy leadup to Daniel’s revelation during Hilda’s wedding speech, that could have been handled so much more deftly but those last two eps were quite rushed, I don’t know when they found out about the shortened season but it feels like they’d planned for more space and had to jab in exposition.

- Becaaaaause: they narratively broke his ‘aha’ moment onto “know you better than you do” while the strength of the message is really in the “do anything to protect them.”  Which is, I believe, where they cut to his softened expression.  Not coincidentally, this is precisely what a lot of fan-readings of the characters focus on: Daniel will do anything to protect Betty.  Bobby might have said he’d throw himself under a bus for Hilda, but Daniel HAS done that for Betty- in fact literally doing so would probably have been easier than publicly shouldering the blame for the Tornado cover and giving away the profits.  Due to the fact that he had time to consider the consequences and did it anyway.

- Which is tidy segue into an admission that I’m flying mostly blind on the Molly arc because I basically skipped all her scenes, but it’s my understanding that Daniel doing this was a pivotal moment for them.  Ie, she was impressed that he did this thing.  I mean, I really appreciate that he spent the whole press conference scene looking for Betty, so the show in no way undercut their relationship.  But then they very clearly built the Molly relationship on the foundation of not only the man Daniel had become due to Betty, but choices he was making in large measure for Betty: it’s not that he saw Betty beaten down and resolved the situation: he was upset but lost, she yelled at him, and THEN he resolved the situation by taking the bullet.  Did I break grammar by ending up with two colon’d clauses in the same sentence?  It’s a braindump, ain’t gotta be pretty.  XP

- Quick sidebar that the same thing happens with Alexis.  She was expecting to come back to one brother, but then listens in on his pep talk with Betty and finds she’s returned to a different brother.  This may be where I got the “an assistant” phrasing, if so, my bad.  But basically, she was impressed with Daniel’s actions, not understanding that it was Betty specifically inspiring his actions.

- Follow that a step further and did Molly ever acknowledge how important Betty is to him?  Legit question.  I think her line here was about him doing it “for an assistant” (?) rather than even “his assistant,” establishing Betty as a non-entity for her.  (Quoting a summary but I think I’m in the ballpark.)  And I’m sure I’d have read about it somewhere if she brought Betty up during their discussion on who he’d date when she was dead.

- Just one last note on Molly, (okay it’s a multi-part though it veers off her as a character) but a possibly incorrect beef is that I hate the Daniel/Molly relationship because there’s no interesting or even real conflict?  It’s perfect?  I’m supposed to think this is magical “true love”?  Molly has apparently been engaged for years to a man she doesn’t really love (and um... that’s lazy not strong), and helps inspire a vengeance filled betrayal by her ex because she’s so awesome everyone loves her?  But she comes out squeaky clean because any emotional cheating on her part is balanced and thus “justified” by Connor falling for Wilhemina.  And then the only “conflict” is that she’s dying, and is perfect throughout it?  That’s...  weak.

-That poem thing WOULD have been an interesting point of conflict but it was resolved by Betty’s intervention, rather than within the relationship.  Which actually is an incredibly interesting beat.  The problem with that being it’s so entirely consistent with the role Betty plays in Daniel’s life that it’s treated as just another beat, as if it doesn’t MATTER that a fundamental moment of intimacy and growth of vulnerability in Daniel’s very important romantic relationship is a door opened by a third party.  There’s a strong argument to be made for something but I broke off to write the next point and now can’t remember what that strong argument is.  I might remember later.  It may have had something to do with Molly being a stepping stone in Daniel’s arc, but the cult-thing was so long and dominating that it didn’t work, it tied him too tightly for too long and coinciding with a loosening of his relationship with Betty there was flailing.

- Quick one: Daniel’s fast-forwarded and time-bounded relationship with Molly is the analog to Betty’s time-limited relationship with Henry.  Which is a discussion I would like Daniel and Betty to have.  Esp. noting that Betty and Henry had issues they worked through together (ice cream foreplay being one.)

- Player!  So going back to a happy place, when Betty’s on the phone trying to fix the apartment situation and the camera pans onto Daniel just leaning against the doorway: this may be a legitimate little moment of “squee!”  There’s so much denial in his laid back attitude at Player, but I still love watching how the informality of the environment reflects in the informality with Betty.  He gives her free reign, and there’s many answers to “why,” and I (almost) don’t want to go into them because I totally adore how this Daniel is basically a College!Daniel only he’s latched onto Betty, who, meanwhile, is just being Betty.  OMG how different his life would have been if he’d met Betty in college...

- Okay I actually don’t feel like going into whys, it’s just an arc to enjoy.  With a small mention of how he TOTALLY was playing with the MODE book and handed it to Betty knowing she’d understand and use it to get them back in.  Such a crazy subtle manipulation, to the point where I’m not sure it wasn’t almost entirely subconscious on Daniel’s part.

- The YETI recommendation letter.  What I love is that this is another time when Daniel fvcks up, but fixes it, and more importantly displays competence and ingenuity alongside authentic caring and effort.  Here’s the thing: YETI wanted Betty, even if it was just a quota thing (which it wasn’t entirely, at least one of the board was generally enthused.)  So all that was necessary was to have them re-label her as from Player.  Daniel knew this and did this.  And told Betty that.  BUUUUT that point was purposefully (by script and character) overshadowed by the gesture of the lengthy rec letter he put significant time into.  Whose real audience was... wait for it...  Betty.  He even did a second draft!  Which is more time and effort and a cleaner product.

-  Also flaking on her practice run.  I also enjoy how he (finally...) bounced back into the office clearly having forgotten her schedule, but having mentally shifted from Molly-space into Betty-space.  He’s enthused, he’s engaged, he’s sort of bantering and I’d like to see where that scene would have gone if she hadn’t immediately gotten the acceptance call.

- So there’s this moment somewhat early on, pretty sure when Betty’s taking the writing class, and wants Daniel to give her feedback.  And he’s all “why?,” coming from his “I don’t actually know what I’m doing” place.  She responds that he’s her friend and wants to know what he thinks.  And he does a little double-take at that word.  Because until that point Daniel totally sees Betty as HIS Friend, and they’ve referred to each other as friends, with a little “f,” and he believes that.  But it wasn’t until this moment that he even considered that HE might be HER Friend.  Presumably because he doesn’t believe he has anything to offer her, beyond the power he holds as EIC and her boss - ie, “here run this show” and other such responsibilities.

- Which is a recurring theme.  Pronounced on relationship stuff especially.  When she asks him for input on the Henry vs Gio situation, when she’s trying to date the playwright.  His response is always “I’m in no position to offer relationship advice/judgment on relationships.”  He sorta dodges the first and is permissive on the second.  I don’t know where to go with that so I’ll leave it (for now).

- When  he was supposed to be in Rio, Betty wasn’t even at MODE, she was working for the “enemy,” and he was sending her regular postcards?  First, they’d have been postmarked in New York and presumably with local stamps, so I’m not 100% on Betty not cottoning on.  But it’s super cute that he was thinking of her when he was incommunicado with literally everyone else.  Did he want her to figure it out (subconsciously)?  It’s an act of reaching out, but also of convincing: he’s created a fictional narrative of being in Rio, fed and embellished by the media and swallowed by coworkers, but it’s through Betty that he’s establishing the fiction in a definitive way.  He wants HER to believe it, because if SHE believes he’s there and having a good time, then he can believe it too, with a small piece of his imagination.

- Same convincing as in Player.  BTW, how did all those messages on her phone work?  He was 99% totally hiding the situation from her.  a) why wouldn’t he just call her from his phone, as he always did in the past?  b) he was creating another fictional space.  Where her “number” was literally on a post-it on his temporary assistant’s monitor.  It’s all play: “call Betty” happens many times, and every one is the act of doing it while knowing that he’s not really doing it.  c) Betty does not point out that he should have been confused he never heard back, or more to the point, that he never heard her voicemail message.  d) he was in a state of limbo waiting for her to come back, nothing is real until she does.  At which point there’s lovely dramatic tension since he both wants her to fix it and get them out of there, and wants to draw her into this new reality and thus make it feel viable.

- 100th Anniversary edition.  I love the idea that he’s hep on her writing his bio because he needs her name, at least, to be next to his.  His identity as EIC is predicated on her being his partner, and needs that shown, even if it’s functionally an “in joke” because it’s not like she can be featured.  In musing over his thoughts while flipping through the book right before deciding to quit, I usually come back to a realization of the transience of the role, but I want it to be a gutpunch of how he assumed, without being aware, that Betty would be next to him in picture, and that’s what they were heading for.

- I’ve actually got through most of my notes, so just a couple more.  Daniel is super impressionable.  He did what Becks told him to in the pilot.  He did what Natalie told him in the cult-situation.  Both against his better judgment - his look after Betty when he kicked her out for being “drama he didn’t need” - that’s the same look when he told her to clock out and was dragged off by the not-16-year-old.  I’m too tired to go check the pilot, but assuming similar look there.  He does what he’s told by anyone telling him to do something, but he WANTS to be rescued from the bad influences, who are so often so forceful.

- Final scene: okay so it turns out quick a lot of my thoughts are trying to understand Daniel.  His growth is blatant and deep.  So a second round will be more Betty-focused.  ‘Cuz I identify strongly with her and don’t have a lot of surface questions about her motivations, but I’m LOST on side of the romantic coin.  And plus she deserves a close look regarding how she grows during the series.

- I watched at least part of the reunion and very much like how AF answered the question of the final scene versus what EM says.  Because I think they each, as actors, see it from the perspective of their characters, which means it was played authentically and grants insight.  AF basically says that she saw it as Daniel coming to say thank you, and how it came down to Betty teaching him that he was good enough.  Which came across a little funny because her phrasing implied they’d never talk or see each other again or something and that’s an alarming finality.  But also implies that Betty really did see moving to London as a significant parting of ways, something that started as soon as she became an editor and their relationship changed.  Probably before.

- She then challenged EM as to why Daniel didn’t say goodbye (as if she didn’t know and hadn’t thought about it?  I’m guessing this was panel performance: asking the question “in character” and throwing the question to the other relevant actor.)  But anyway, EM’s answer was “Because things were just starting.”  Which is blatantly a shippy answer, and he even explains Daniel’s “revelation” as when he “really saw Betty for the first time through and through.”

- At some point in these things you’re like: oh but I thought of something else, and only stop when your brain falls asleep.

- I thought of something else.  And then I forgot it.  My brain is failing!  But not yet failed.

- After Betty gets her braces off there’s this scene near the end, at the shoot.  Daniel sees her and crosses quite purposefully to talk with her.  He wants to banter and share this exciting moment with her.  And the scene goes a little strange when Betty kinda goes “yeah, going now bye.”  I expected more eye contact, a big smile, more conversation.  That’s Betty.  That’s them.  But instead it’s a little awkward so Something Is Happening Here.  Is she self-conscious?  Did she see and hear something in Daniel’s look and comment right after she was detached from the bra and isn’t at this moment comfortable with him?  Is this all fallout from her dream in which she and Daniel slept together/he thought she was a bad person/rejected her only they chose not to explicate this/cut a useful scene/thought I’d get that right away but I’m obtuse?  I don’t think it’s the last one because while I can be horribly obtuse, I don’t think it was coded.  But that’s what the obtuse would say.

- At any rate they don’t pick up on it again, next scene (next ep) they’re back to normal.

- But Daniel does immediately chase after Amanda and let go of her.  Which is payoff for his convo with Betty earlier where she sort of disdainfully asks if he WANTS a more serious relationship with Amanda.  I did sort of wonder if he actually does, but Betty’s judgmentalness is what convinces him he doesn’t.  Usually I’d say Betty understands him so well she knows he doesn’t, but they’re not as close at this point, Betty is living her own life much more, so I dunno.

- But I don’t actually think Daniel was falling for Amanda, or that the show wanted us to think that was ultimately a viable path.  Because of that moment when he’s in a car, calls Amanda, says “I really need to see  you” and she turns him down.  It parallels his text to Betty when Molly died.  One text and Betty came over.  This was an actual distressed voice convo and Amanda doesn’t care enough about him to be there, which is really great development for Amanda even though we don’t see her!  She previously went after Matt when he was in jail, she’s interested in Tyler here, she’s not totally pining for Daniel!

- Daniel of course was using Amanda and their earned if mild emotional intimacy as a crutch, trying to fill the space Betty left.  Also note when Amanda turned him down for sex and he stayed to “hang out,” - this is not supposed to be an analysis of Amanda but I wanna note I like that moment because it felt like she was pleased to think she wasn’t just sex to him, while still being over him romantically. Because she does care about him.

- Or for pete’s...  I have this bad habit of writing notes which I later look at and am like... “huh?”  This is a fic idea, from Daniel’s POV: “Betty had moulded him, often by sheer force of her iron will, into being a man who almost deserved Molly.  And he'd turned right around and become a man who would never deserve Betty.”  And I DON’T REMEMBER WHAT THE SECOND HALF MEANS.  Specifically.

- Wedding dancing.  Happens twice.  Hilda’s wedding, we know what that is.  But at Daniel’s wedding.  I like that he wasn’t 100% Molly focused, ‘cuz, shipper.  And I know why the show had Matt cut in, because gotta keep things moving.  But isn’t it a thing that you don’t cut in on the groom/bride?  It’s their day.  Daniel just sort of nonverbally asks Betty if it’s okay (to leave her with Matt), but can’t help a) thinking he was a bit put out and b) want Molly to see his expression looking at Betty and have some sort of “aha” moment where she - do Molly and Betty have any scenes together?  I don’t remember seeing any and I think I did skim through all the eps, but I need to do that again.

- Ooh, one of the things I forgot en route!  I like that Betty has revolving love interests, because that’s textual argument for Betty never having feelings (romantic) for Daniel.  Which is super, super important in this iteration of the story.  There’s a couple moments - pilot and the first bridge scene - where she arguably has a momentary crush, which quickly settles into a developing platonic relationship.  

- Jump back to Daniel finally seeing Betty as a true equal = romantic feelings.  It’s a thing.  Look my brain is deteriorting and wording is hard!  So there’s two sided imbalance throughout.  Daniel always saw Betty with this veneer of youth, and a great deal of his use for her is helping her “grow into the woman she’ll be.”  And that’s the roadblock in him seeing her as a romantic possibility.  Which was initially quite awesome because he was sleeping with people younger than her, even the “she’s actually 20″ girl was younger than Betty.  And yet always saw her as in many ways more mature and competent than her.  And double-yet he still saw how much further she could, and would, grow.  His belief in her knows no bounds.

- Meanwhile Betty sees him as...  someone who’s also becoming.  Who has great potential.  Bullying him into it if necessary.  And because he’s guided by her, she can’t crush on him, he’s like her pet.  Were she to have a crush, much less fall for him, it would have been horrifying.  She needs to have a moment when she sees him as a true equal, someone who - look, everyone is always still growing so it’s not like he needs to be fully formed, and it’s a little murkier what the moment would look like when she finally sees Daniel “for the first time.”

- ‘cuz as noted, Betty has been there for pretty much every important moment of growth and crossroads in every facet of Daniel’s life.  Whereas Betty consistently had many things and relationships in her life Daniel was not involved in.  She’s always been way more self-reliant (not the word I wanted, is there one that starts with c?)  It’s why they did sort of need to peel away through a chunk of S4, because Daniel needed to learn to cope without Betty propping him up, because it’s like a Miranda-thing:

- “I don’t need Gary.  But I want him.”

- Daniel has to be able to be find without Betty before Betty can see him as a viable romantic partner.  She has to see something she never has before.  Daniel saw that the seedling he’d been protecting was not only strong enough to survive on its own had grown up and bloomed (process begun early in the season when he was being overprotective and she shut that down).  For Betty...  I guess Daniel...  ...  .....  it didn’t happen in the show.  As EM noted, for Daniel, the ending was the beginning.  Because his moment isn’t leaving MODE, that’s just the corresponding moment to Betty shaking him off.  His moment is further down the road when he puts into practice everything he’s learned and ...  something answered in fanfic because it’s spec and I’m tuckered.

[percywinchester27]

A lot like ‘Us’ (Part-19)

Word count: 4.9K

Pairing: Sam X Reader AU

Warnings: Fluffy stuff for real ;)

Series Summary: Y/N Y/L/N is eager and honestly, still in awe that she managed to get herself an acceptance from Stanford Law School. On the face of it, her life seems as put together, mysterious and independent as one might hope for. On the insides, she carries the burden of past that haunts her till date. Seemingly, she’d left it all behind; that is until she sets foot in the class of the Law School’s youngest, most promising professor.

A/N: I kinda sorta really like this part. It was so fun to write :)

The story employs two different timelines. The present timeline for the story takes place in 2014. Please let me know what you guys think :)

Beta: @deanssweetheart23​. Thank you , love <3

A lot like ‘Us’ masterlist

“Coffee?” She squeaked, gulping, eyes going wide. 

“Or not,” Sam said quickly, panic rising inside him like a tidal wave. She didn’t want to spend time with him after all. Heartbreak stronger than what he could have imagined ripped through him. So everything that she’d said last night…

“I-” Y/N started to say, clearly taken aback. It was so easy to read her face that Sam wanted to kick himself for even thinking that this was a good idea.

“It’s alright,” he said, voice low. “I understand if you don’t want to.”

“I want to,” she protested immediately, then seemed to regret the haste. “I mean… coffee sounds nice. I just… didn’t expect...” her voice trailed off.

She was being honest. Sam could, at least, see that. 

“I thought maybe we should talk,” he said, then added carefully. “Catch up.”

Y/N nodded, a speculative look in her eyes. 

Her eyes. Just like that Sam was lost, marveling at the beauty of them and how they were the most beautiful pair of eyes in the world.

Get a grip! 

He had to scold himself to keep his hungover head on track. “I think we could both use some caffeine after all.”

“Give me a minute.”

Sam saw her rush into the librarian’s room. When she came back, she had a pretty paisley scarf wrapped around her neck. The sheen of the silk reminded Sam of the satin she’d been wearing last night and again, he had to wrench himself back to the present.

What was happening? This was worse than being fixated on a high school crush.

Worse because he didn’t have the excuse of being a hormone driven teenager; because he didn’t want to bring up the pain of the past or face the uncertainty of the future. This was worse because he couldn’t say any of it to her here, where he was a professor and she was a student.

“Ready,” she breathed, coming to stand next to him.

“Where do you want to go?” He asked as they stepped out of the library and walked along the long corridor of the quad overlooking the shadowed trees. 

Y/N pursed her lips. “I actually don’t know any places around here. Just the campus cafes.”

Sam was through with students spotting him, at least for a week. The last thing he needed was someone to rush up to him now.

“I think I know just the place.”

Y/N walked quietly besides him. Sam didn’t peek to see the expression on her face; he stared straight ahead. If he sneaked a glance and found her to be apprehensive, he didn’t think his nerves could take it. Better to assume that she was lost in thought than to confirm she was regretting her decision.

The small café was very close to his home, and thereby hers too. Just two lanes down. Sam had discovered it by fluke on a morning jog, nestled in a small niche of the college town. The café wasn’t grand, which made it all the more cozy. He grabbed his coffee every morning from here before heading for classes or work. Fortunately, the place didn’t have many students coming there. They mostly just preferred the Starbucks on the campus or the other scattered cafes with more seating space. 

Sam opened the door for Y/N, and she stepped in with a murmured thank you. He saw her eyes take in the low ceiling, paneled in dark wood and supported by long wooden beams. The furniture was eclectic and mismatched, as if it had been put together at different times- which it probably had. She would like it, he thought. It was exactly her style.

The barista, Suzy, grinned when she saw him. 

“There you are!” She admonished him. “I thought my most reliable customer had abandoned me.”

Sam shook his head at her. “I had to be in LA for a couple of days… that sort of thing…”

He felt Y/N’s curious gaze on his face. But what was he gonna tell Suzy? That he had been too busy pining after Y/N to make a round? 

“We missed you around here,” she said, then called back, “Ain’t that right, Matt?”

“My Sun wouldn’t rise without seeing your face!” Matt yelled from somewhere inside and Sam chuckled.

“The usual?” Suzy asked and Sam nodded. 

She turned to Y/N, “What can we get you, ma’am?”

“A Cappuccino, please.”

“Regular?”

“Large, please.”

Sam threw her a swift look. All that caffeine on a weak stomach?

“What name do I write?” 

“Oh, it’s not to go,” Sam said quickly. “ We’ll have it here.” 

Suzy raised her eyebrow, her eyes flitting between him and Y/N curiously.

Sam hurriedly turned, gesturing towards the table at the very end, next to the window. It was his favorite place here. 

The memories he had in Stanford, in California were all his. Nothing here had ever been touched by Y/N. Wasn’t that why he had moved from New York, because he couldn’t live in that apartment anymore? Moved across the damn country to escape the pain? And here he was subtly including her in all his new memories, too. Sam could barely think of the library without imagining her behind the desk. Could he come to his café now without thinking of her?

So lost was he in the thought, that before he could pull the chair for her, Y/N had seated herself. Slowly, he sat down opposite to her.

Before Sam could say anything, Y/N burst out. “I’m so sorry about last night! I don’t know what had gotten into me.”

Sam knew. She had been mad at him for going out on a date. While it had made him angry yesterday, today, it just made him feel a tiny bit smug. Y/N apparently didn’t know that he knew.

“You don’t need to apologize-” he started, but she cut him off.

“Just let me get through this, please?” She pleaded.

Had he ever said ‘no’ to her ‘please?’ Sam didn’t think so. He motioned with his hand to continue, giving up.

“I just… It’s very embarrassing to even think about you having to take me home like that,” she slapped her hand across her forehead. “Your evening was ruined because of me. I can’t tell you how sorry I am, or even how ashamed-”

“Y/N-” he cut in, despite having committed to listening to her. It was simply inacceptable to let her stew in this feeling if he could help it. “You didn’t ruin my evening. If anything, you saved me.”

“What?”

“I ran into a couple of girls- oh, from your class. It wasn’t very comfortable,” he admitted. “I didn’t even want to be at the bar to begin with. To top it off, Jody kinda stood me up. You were my knight in shining armour.”

“More like dame sloshing with alcohol,” she snorted. “I’m sorry about Rebecca and Lacey. To be fair, I did try to stop them.”

“Thanks for looking out for me,” he said, and then couldn’t help but tease. “You don’t like them very much, do you?”

Y/N bit her lip. “It’s not like that.”

It totally was. He could see it all over her face- the guilt that she had given away her bad impression of someone. It just wasn’t like her to think ill of anyone. All the same, Sam wondered why she didn’t like them. Had they been mean to her?

“I hope I didn’t say or do anything that I shouldn’t have last night.” she was looking down at her hands. 

“You really don’t remember, do you?” Even to him, his voice sounded chagrined and defeated. 

“No, I don’t.” Her brows furrowed, voice rising. “Did I do something? What happened last night?”

Sam took a deep breath, and said with as much confidence as he could muster. “Nothing happened. I walked you home and you went straight to bed. That’s all.”

“So we didn’t sit on a sidewalk anywhere?”

Shit. Lying to her was going to be dicey if she even remembered bits and parts. 

So, instead of answering her question, Sam countered, “What do you remember?”

The hand on her forehead slid down to cover part of her face. “Nothing,” she groaned, trying hard to think. “I remember absolutely nothing. One minute I was asking for the- gosh, I don’t even remember what number drink it was and the next moment I was throwing up in the toilet.”

Sam winced. “That bad, huh?”

Y/N shook her head. “Not really. I feel fine now. Fine enough to risk a large coffee.” She tilted her head towards the cup before her.

There was one in front of him, too. Where had the coffee come from? He hadn’t even noticed anyone place it on the table.

“Thanks for the water,” she added. “It made all the difference, I think.”

“I’m glad.”

“You didn’t tell me, though,” she insisted, not giving in to his track change. “Did we ever sit on a footpath?”

The impatience and doubt in her voice hinted that she might be remembering exactly what he was. Her hands around his waist, fingers digging into his shirt. Clearly, telling her the truth would only upset her. It was better to play safe.

“Just for a bit. Your feet were hurting.”

“You’re being very illusive,” she accused, eyes narrowed.

“And that’s how I make my living,” he grinned. “Really, though. You were mostly out of it. You fell asleep the minute your head hit the sack.”

“Why did you stay, then?”

Y/N could put the Spanish inquisition to shame, Sam thought, asking the exact questions he didn’t want to answer. 

She’d make a damn good attorney.

“Because I was worried you might get nauseous and then trip on the way to the bathroom.”

“Uhhhgg. This is the worst,” she threw her hands up. “I wish there was some way I could erase that out of your memory.”

If there had been a way, Sam would have resisted with the last bit of his strength. There was no chance he was ever ridding his mind of even a second from last night. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t bring it up,” he said as lightly as he could. “After all, you did save me from those girls last night. Consider us even.”

“You guys want anything else?”

Sam looked up to see Matt standing over him with a huge grin. Sam could take a few guesses about what was on Matt’s mind.

Ignoring Matt’s smirk, Sam looked at Y/N expectantly. 

“Nothing for me. Thank you,” she said shyly.

“The usual for you, Sam?” Matt wiggled his eyebrows. 

He sighed. “I don’t have a usual for food, Matt. You know that I don’t eat here.”

“You liked that burger one time,” he reminded, lingering on purpose, eyes flitting curiously to Y/N for just a second.

“Fine. Get the burger!” And maybe leave us alone.

“Okie dokie,” he grinned again, whistling as he went away, no doubt to gloat to Suzy about how he has successfully taken Sam’s case up.

“Make it to go,” Sam hollered after him.

Right then, his cellphone rang shrilly. Excited, Sam looked at the screen, then rolled his eyes in slight disappointment when he read the name. He put the phone to his ear. “Chase.”

“Samuel!” The voice drawled on the other end. “How be it going, m’ boy?”

“Don’t call me that,” Sam said, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Samuel or m’ boy?”

“Both, just both.” He sighed. “What do you want?”

Y/N was sipping on her coffee, trying to look inconspicuous, but really, it wasn’t like she could avoid listening in on the conversation.

“You were supposed to be at the office, why is your cabin empty?”

Sam knew very well that he had to go through the depositions once more before the hearing on Monday. Chase was the primary, and he wasn’t very confident. He’d asked Sam to go through it. In fact, he’d had Stacey- Sam’s secretary- to put it on Sam’s calendar.

“I’m a bit hungover right now. Just mail the depositions to me?”

“No can do. Come over tomorrow. I want to go over the papers with you.”

“It’s a Sunday!”

Chase laughed. “And when has that stopped you from working?”

It hadn’t, but Sam couldn’t go tomorrow. He had been waiting for a solid month, dragging his way through the day by looking at the photo by his bedside. He couldn't say that out loud with Y/N here, though. 

“Chase,” he said carefully. “I can’t tomorrow. You know what day it is.”

“Oh, right! But I won’t take your whole day. Just drop by in the morning, I swear it won’t be more than an hour. And I’ll owe you one.”

“I’m starting to think, having you owe one is even worse than owing you one.”

Y/N giggled into the cup and then tried to conceal it by coughing. It made Sam smile automatically, but also got him annoyed that he was wasting this stolen time with her on a phone call from Chase Lincoln of all people.

“If that’s it then,” Sam said, pulling the phone away from his ear when Chase’s protests sounded.

“No nooo wait. We didn’t even talk about the weekend.”

��What about the weekend?” 

“It’s the Induction fair, isn’t it?” Chase sounded appalled. “Don’t you teach there? You ought to know, man! We’ll have a blast.”

“It’s only the induction fair. It’s the same every year.”

“But this year Jess is coming.”  Chase stressed. Sam could almost see his shit eating grin. “Ask her out this time, please? By now, you’ll have to relearn how to be around a girl!”

Oh the irony. Sam just might get to be around the girl, if Chase would just shut up. 

“Goodbye, Lincoln!” Sam cut the call, impossibly irritated. Y/N was already done with her coffee while he hadn’t touched his.

“I’m sorry,” he apologised. “It’s work.”

“That’s fine,” she waved it off. “It sounded like you were talking to a friend.”

Chase was his friend- at least when he wasn’t interrupting. He had been working with Sam for years now, as his junior associate. Somewhere between staying up at nights, poring over casefiles and silent, calculative glances in courtrooms, they had become friends.

“He’s alright,” Sam shrugged.

“Were you talking about the Stanford Induction Fair?” 

There was a twinkle in her eye. Y/N was clearly very excited about this. And despite how grumpy he had been when Chase had brought the topic up, Sam wanted to talk all about the Induction fair now. It was fairly basic. The alumni came over for talks and activities. There was a lot of drinking.

“Yes,” he said. “You’re heading the Committee, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I am, but you don’t like it very much.” She surmised. Funny how even now, she got him just like that. 

“It means long days and nights, especially since I’ve been invited for a talk,” Sam answered more fully. “Chase is a couple years younger. We were in Stanford at the same time, but I didn’t know him then. He’s usually excited for these kinds of things. Happy to show off for the college girls.”

Y/N giggled. “How will it be different for you?”

“Well, I get to dress casually and bully you newbies around if I want to,” he said, “And oh, you get to call me Sam for the day.”

It wasn’t the right thing to say, because her face fell for an instant. It was a reminder of the past, even if he hadn't meant it that way- of how things had changed. So Sam had been right in his assessment after all. She had suppressed a good chunk of past, buried it so deep down that not even the light of conscious thoughts touched it. 

Y/N rearranged her features back into a smile, the corner of her lips quirked up. “I’m sure the girls club will have a field day with that one.”

Sam felt his cheeks heat up. Here’s something he hadn’t expected. To have his wife tease him about other girls. He was even less excited about the induction knowing that Jess would be there. That was bound to be awkward as it was, but with Y/N heading the preparation, he didn’t know how to maneuver around. He could hope that Y/N wouldn’t remember about his college girlfriend, but it didn’t seem likely. If Y/N had dated anyone before him, Sam wouldn’t have forgotten the name, either.

Jess coming here was like an omen that Sam couldn’t outrun his past. More than that, he couldn’t outrun the conversation he had been putting off for so long now. The hard part was doing it without opening her buried wounds. 

He took a sip of his now cold coffee. “Where does this leave us, Y/N?” Did she notice how his voice softened when he said her name? How could she not? “What’re we going to do?”

“I don’t know,” she said, slowly… almost like her voice was choking up. “I don’t know what to do. But, I do know that I can’t go back to not talking. I can’t go back to that first week. I just can’t.” She was rapidly blinking her eyes.

“I suppose we can, at least, be friends, right?” Sam asked, keeping the hopeless yearning out of his voice and almost succeeding. It was beyond dramatic, but Sam knew he would be devastated if she refused. “We’d started out as friends. We can still do that.”

Don’t say no, Don’t say no.

“What about college?” She asked. “No one can know.”

The relief was a plausible, physical thing. She wasn’t refusing… she was just being pragmatic.

“Then we don’t tell anyone,” he suggested. “How hard can it be?”

Her voice was grim, when she said, “Wouldn’t be the hardest thing in the world.”

***********

You had known that this place was special to Sam the moment the barista’s eyes had lit up, but as he picked up his parcel while leaving, you noticed how Suzy and Matt kept exchanging loaded glances with each other. It looked like Sam was going to have a lot of questions to answer when he came back alone. You weren’t clueless about what was happening. Those two were going to hound him about you, about his date. 

But was that what this was? A date?

He had asked you out, picked the place and paid the bill, despite your protests. In fact, if you didn’t know better, you might have construed all that teasing as light flirting. On your part, you definitely didn’t interact with other people like this. Just Sam. It had always just been Sam.

At first you had feared that he was going to be mad about last night, or worse, hurl all the accusations of the past. Not that you didn’t deserve it, but that would mean the end of whatever you had going for you right now- this careful and fragile relation that Sam wanted to call friendship. You were dubious about the prospect because being with him was like falling. Once you tipped off the edge, you could never go back to the way it was. You could only hurtle downwards with insurmountable speed. Who could ever fight gravity? Loving him was exactly like that- like gravity. Even when you had been standing at the edge of the cliff, resisting that fall, it was his love that kept you tethered to the ground.

“You’re quiet,” he noted, walking next to you.

And despite your better judgement, you spit out the truth, “I’m waiting for you to… not be so calm.”

He didn’t say anything, and when you couldn’t take it anymore, you looked up at his face. Sam was frowning lightly, not like he was angry, but like he was trying to frame words. “It’s not coming, Y/N. Anger or whatever it is you’re waiting for.” He looked at you for just a split second and you saw through him clearly in that moment. 

Sam had been angry at some point, maybe even more than that. Your insides started to feel like they were being pierced with tiny needles at the thought of what must have happened after you left. You couldn’t let yourself think about it, and Sam could see that. He could see right through you, and just how easy it would be to riddle you with holes by firing questions. Maybe he still cared enough to not want to see you in such a pitiable state. Or maybe the anger wasn’t coming now. Either way, he didn’t seem to want to elaborate, and you were too damn scared to ask. 

There was something else that you wanted to know about. You had been dying to know since you first saw him.

“Can I ask you something?” You asked hesitantly.

Sam looked wary but he nodded. “Sure, anything.”

“How’s….” Your throat closed up. “How’s Jo? And Dean and aunt El?”

Sam’s stiff shoulders relaxed and a hint of a smile touched his lips. You felt yourself deflate right along with him, the answer clear on his face before he even spoke the words. 

“Jo-” The grin widened- “Jo’s doing great. She runs the diner now… took over from Ellen five years ago. Ellen’s part of this biker gang. From what I know, she’s loving life on the road. Jo’s expanding the business, owns two more diners. And Dean’s pretty much the same. They got married two summers ago.”

You stopped walking. “Got… married…?” You blinked, feeling a wetness at the corner of your eyes. And yet your lips were stretching into a smile.

“Yes,” he said smiling, as well, “They’re very happy.”

You hurried to wipe your tears, feeling the extreme joy warring against the immense sadness. Jo and Dean deserved this happiness more than about anyone you knew. You had teased your cousin endlessly about how they might end up having the same surname one day, and then they would be twice the sisters than they already were. Every cell in your body missed her.

Sam seemed to be on the verge of adding some more, but he stopped himself. You wondered what it was that he wasn’t telling you. Was it the same church they had married in? Had she missed you? Did she still miss you at all? 

If that was the case, you were glad that Sam didn’t say anything more. You didn’t know what would hurt worse- the confirmation or the denial. As for you? You were elated that your family was safe and happy.

It wasn’t hard to see that Sam had been very careful today about what he said, clearly being evasive, but you wouldn’t dream of pushing him on that. Whatever you were getting out of his words, his company and his kindness was still more than you could ever ask for. You knew that very well.

The two of you were almost to the turn of your building, the high wall with creepers coming into view.

“Y/N,” Sam said as you reached the gate- each time he said your name, a spark flew through your body. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you… from the very moment I saw you.”

“Y-yeah?” You stuttered.

“I-" He whispered, voice fervent, "I’m… just so incredibly proud of you, Y/N! You did it! You got into Stanford!”

He breathed out heavily, as if the words had been waiting to burst out.

“They were running through resumes to form the committee for the induction fair, I happened to read yours,” Sam continued, “Pre-law and a license for paralegal practice while working two jobs? That’s just-” he looked around to find the right word- “That’s phenomenal! And you got in with a full-ride! Not that I doubted it for a second. But it doesn’t make me feel any less vindicated. Doesn’t make me any less proud.”

You put your face in both your hands and finally started shaking, crying into your palms.

“Hey?” Very tentatively his hand landed on your shoulder, his fingers curling to the shape of it. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, not taking your hands away from your face. What were you going to tell him? That you didn’t think there was anyone left anymore who’d be happy for you? Let alone be proud? The day that you had opened the acceptance letter for Stanford, your very soul wanted to run towards Sam, the way your nineteen year old self had, barefooted and in pouring rain. Even in those dark days, when you tried with all your might to not think about him, for that one day you had allowed yourself to freely imagine how Sam would have reacted to the news. He had always pushed you, drilled it in your head that no law school was beneath you. He’d wanted this for you more than you had wanted it for yourself. And here you were, getting to live the moment. See the absolute victory in his eyes.

Sam’s grip on your shoulder tightened. “Y/N, you have to know, no matter the circumstances, no matter if we had met or not, I would’ve always been proud of you. Always. You can’t seriously question that!”

It made you cry harder. 

Sam’s other hand came to rest over yours, on your face. “You know those girls in your apartment really don’t like me. I swear if they see you crying now, one of them is going to come at me with a machete.”

You laughed despite yourself and turned a bit to wipe your face on your scarf. It was regretful that it meant Sam had to drop both his hands. You could smell his cologne, the one that you'd gifted him.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “Yesterday I passed out on you and today I’m a blubbering mess.”

Beyond the tall gates, the fountain in the meadow gurgled softly.

“I guess I’ll see you Monday, then?” You asked, feeling more dejected than you should have. 

“Soon,” Sam sighed, and absentmindedly, from the sheer force of habit, just like he had done a hundred times before, he stepped, hand twitching to reach out to your cheek. Halfway there, he took a deep breath and placed it against your arm instead. “I’ll see you soon, Y/N.”

With that he sidestepped and started walking back the way you had come. You stared after him. Just around the corner he turned back and called. “Go in, it’s starting to get cold. And oh, say hi to Judgy Judy for me!” With a wink he turned the corner and disappeared out of sight.

Judgy Judy? What the hell had happened last night?

In a daze, you crossed the meadow and climbed up the stairs, completely forgetting the lift. Lost in thought, you turned the key in the lock and were met by an uproar the moment the door opened.

“See, now you’re dead, Y/N!” Kevin said, exasperated.

“Excuse me, what?”

Kevin was standing on the Sofa along with Jack. Meg was sitting on the kitchen island with both her feet drawn up and Cas was standing on the parapet of the balcony.

“And now you’re deader than dead. Get out of the lava!” Jack sighed.

Either you were very slow or the world wasn’t making sense anymore.

“We’re playing the floor is lava,” Cas explained patiently from the other end of the room. “And you’re charring very quickly by standing there.”

You yanked your shoes and hurried over to Meg’s bean bag, opposite to the balcony and jumped on it. 

“It doesn’t matter now, you’re already dead,” Kevin announced.

“Hey, asshole, it’s her house,” Meg said. “She gets an extra life, or you get kicked out. Take a pick.”

“Fine, if you want to play it like that,” Kevin huffed. 

The bean bag was placed such that you were standing closest to Cas, who turned slightly pink when he met your gaze. So Meg had told him that you knew. 

You threw him a huge grin, but Cas’s eyes zeroed in on you. “Have you been crying?” He asked. 

Well, so much for escaping the observant guys of this building. You shook your head. 

“I’m standing on the balcony, you know. I can see the gate from here,” he said mildly. Cas wasn’t trying to force anything out of you, he was just concerned, which made it even easier to tell him.

“I’m really happy, Cas. Don’t worry about it.”

His blue eyes tightened for a second, then the twinkle returned in them. “You’re happy,” he said, lips twitching, “But are you alive?” The next moment, he stepped on the bean bag, throwing you out of balance and you had to step down on the carpet to steady yourself.

“C’mon, she’s dead for real this time,” Kevin complained, looking at Meg, who shrugged. 

“I tried, Y/N.”

But you were happy to take the next turn to be the counter as everyone scrambled up again, and take the turn after that, and do it with a smile. Tonight you wouldn’t stop smiling.

***************************

A/N 2: Who’s happy that we are getting some happy stuff?

*Raises hand* ME!

The feedback is literally what’s keeping this story going right now. My immense thanks to all you lovely people who take the time out to be SO kind to me. I love you <3

If you want be tagged, you can send me an ask or add yourself to the taglist here.

Or here’s my side blog @percywinchester27-writes. You can give that blog a follow and turn the notifications on to know about updates.

ALLU taglist:

@gabavaldman​  @im-a-light-child​  @cosicas-cuquis​  @bllyjianne​  @hoboal87​  @i-is-for-inspiring​  @daughterleftbehind​  @wackiekebab​  @mylovelydame21​   @dancing-the-hellfire-rumba​  @superbadassnatural​  @babypink224221​  @badlittlehabit99​  @anathewierdo​  @sams-bubblegum-bitch​   @fandomoverdose666​  @superstarmarvel​  @atc74​  @aiofheavenandhell​  @rebel-author-chick​  @death-unbecomes-you​  @cookiechipdough​  @kbl1313​  @linki-locks11​  @miss-nerd95​  @sunflowers-n-rocknroll​  @stoneyggirl​  @like-a-bag-of-potatoes​  @niyahgray​  @traceyaudette​  @blueaura​  @awfulmoons​

[pillar--of--salt]

I was trying to fill the next prompt request in my inbox, but then the thing I started writing veered away from the prompt entirely, so here’s a random drabble instead.

///

Blake’s life is in shambles. 

He goes to great lengths not to show it at work and under no circumstances does he allow it to affect his performance, but... his personal life is on fire. Not on fire as in good; on fire as in up in flames. And he doesn’t know what to do about it except stand back and watch it helplessly. 

It is certainly almost entirely attributable to the hours he works, to the reality of being on-call 24/7, to being so subsumed by the pace and cerebral demand of his job that by the time he comes home, he has nothing left. He comes home and remembers to feed the cat and change the litter box, sometimes he remembers to clean the apartment, sometimes he buys groceries, and sometimes he even remembers to eat the groceries before they spoil. Anything more than that is beyond his capacity to manage. So it’s no wonder that Chris breaks up with him two months into dating. Blake would break up with himself, too. 

He isn’t sure how any of the rest of them do it, except that maybe they have a more permanent kind of support system to help prop them up. Jay’s got his wife, Daisy has her fiancé, Matt has roommates who are actually his friends. Nadine... well, Nadine is a mystery. She is certainly the most put together of them all, despite not having (as far as Blake can tell) a spouse or partner or a close friend. 

She’s on the phone when he appears at her door and gives the glass a light tap to get her attention. She waves him in even though she’s still on the phone, and so he quietly lets himself in and waits for her to finish. He tries not to eavesdrop, but that’s kind of the only thing he can do.

“Sorry,” she says after she hangs up. “That was just a friend.”

“Were you canceling plans?” he asks. They all have to do it so often that the assumption is almost always correct. 

“Confirming them, actually. The NSO is performing Verdi’s Requiem at the Kennedy Center tonight, and he has box seats... Anyway. What did you need, Blake?”

He only stares at her. 

“Blake?”

“I don’t know how you do it,” he blurts. 

“I beg your pardon?”

“You... you and I easily work eighty hours a week, and when I go home I can barely muster the energy to feed my cat, let alone see my friends or go out or date or keep a partner or clean my apartment or... or even go grocery shopping! Not that that matters, seeing as I’m never home to eat the food I bought. And then- and then here you are, for some reason having friends and dinner plans and sometimes I’ve noticed that you have weekend plans that don’t just involve sleeping or working! You go to the symphony! I can’t remember the last time I’ve been to the symphony!”

She stares at him for a long time, lips pressed together. 

He swallows, feeling the blood drain from his face. “I’m- I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to- That was incredibly out of line.”

She looks as if she’s trying to work out what to say. “I don’t have a cat,” she settles on finally. 

“You- what?” Whatever he was expecting her to say, it wasn’t that. 

“I don’t have a cat I worry about feeding. I don’t take the time to clean my own condo, I just hire a cleaning service to come every week and take care of it. I don’t go grocery shopping, I just have them delivered to me most of the time. Hell, sometimes I even have my wine delivered.” She chuckles. “And if I have other errands I don’t have time to run, I pay my neighbor’s teenage son to do them for me.” 

Blake takes that in. It... it all makes a lot of sense, actually. How she could seem so put together with almost no time in her own day. “Oh,” he says.

She explains, “Once I got old enough to be able to afford to live and not just keep my head above water, I decided I liked my life best when I didn’t have to worry about those things, so I outsourced them. I only seem like I have it all together because I have other people doing most of the legwork for me. But when I was your age...” She shakes her head. “I certainly wasn’t handling anything nearly as gracefully as you are. No matter how out of sorts you feel.” 

“Graceful is absolutely not the word for whatever I’m doing here,” he grumbles. 

Nadine smiles at him—a real smile, a rare one. “You’ll figure it out, Blake. It has been a grueling couple of weeks, but eventually it’ll get better. And you’re doing better than you think you are.”

“I’ll just... keep telling myself that.”

“And I’m here if you ever need anything.”

[twothumbsandnostakeincanon]

Wingfic ideas! 3) Everyone is born with wings, but they are transparent and non-corporeal. They only become physical when you meet your soulmate. "You must be Stiles" and poof - both Peter and Stiles now have very real, very physical wings that can knock things over and get injured, but also teach them how to fly. (whump: Stiles memories of his parents grooming each others' wings, Scott hating Stiles over his soulmate, etc.)

Oooooooo I love this wing concept! I changed it a bit, making it touch-based, and also threw it into the stetopher blender 😁

It wasn’t the worst night of Stiles’ life. Maybe not even the second worst. Definitely at least third. Second or third worst night, probably. 

But of all the ways for his first, and now likely only, date with Lydia to end, her getting chomped by a murder-crazy werewolf was definitely the worst. Or at least, that’s what he’d thought, until the werewolf touched him under the chin. 

Stiles froze at the claw on his skin, heartbeat ratcheting up with fear even as he fought the instinct to slap his hand away and yell about personal space. Then he felt a weight at his back. 

The Alpha suddenly lurched backward slightly too, jerking his hand away to reach behind himself. Stiles’ eyes widened when he saw a huge, pure white, feathery wing stretched out behind the werewolf. Frantically, he felt behind himself, grasping a much longer, more delicate wing; a sheer iridescent membrane stretched over a craquelure pattern. Something wasn’t right though, something-

He looked at the Alpha again. 

At the stretched out wing. Singular, one wing. 

Hand trembling, Stiles felt around the other side of his back. 

Empty. 

The two stared at each other for a moment. 

“What the fuck,” Stiles breathed out. 

The Alpha’s grip tightened on the feathers, and then he shoved them behind himself with a growl.

The wings, though world shattering for Stiles, barely put a hitch in Peter’s stride. He allowed Stiles to call an ambulance for Lydia, and then continued to do everything Stiles assumed a revenge obsessed werewolf would do anyway. 

The only hesitation came when Peter offered him the bite. 

“We’re meant for each other, Stiles. I could give this to you. You could be faster, and heal from nearly anything,” he purred out, bringing the wrist closer. 

Stiles watched him move, listening to the words with his mouth open. Not because he was spellbound by the promises, but because as soon as Peter had touched his skin again, he’d felt the push of a soulbond. Warm and beating steadily. Nothing forceful or intrusive, but noticeable just the same. 

“You feel it already, don’t you? Our bond. It could be stronger. It could be so much stronger, Stiles,” Peter continued, lips nearly pressed against his skin now. 

Ice pierced through Stiles, anger suddenly flowing through him. 

It could be so much stronger. As if the strength of a soulbond depended on him becoming a werewolf, rather than on dedication to a partner. As if his human parents hadn’t had the strongest soulbond Stiles had ever seen. 

He would not be manipulated. 

“No.”

Surprise flit across Peter’s face as Stiles yanked away his wrist, followed quickly by hurt before his expression turned to stone. An aching pang shot through Stiles at having caused it, but he refused to regret it. 

“Fine,” Peter said. “I’ll find you after this. We have some things to discuss. In the meantime…” 

Stiles watched his soulmate drive away, crushed keys at his feet and a single wing fluttering at his back. 

__________

One exhausting run to the hospital later, the sheriff couldn’t seem to stop looking over Stiles’ shoulder- so much so that he wasn’t listening. 

“Dad. Dad! This is important!” Stiles insisted. 

“Sorry-” he apologized, still distracted. “Just- did that happen at the dance? Where’s the other one?” 

Stiles ran a hand over his face. 

“I feel like there are a few more important things happening right now,” he said, trying very hard not to yell. That finally got his dad’s attention. Not that it was any use to Stiles anyway. He still ended up alone in the hallway of the hospital, watching him walk away. 

Of course, he wasn’t alone for very long. 

There was a very good chance that if these hunters didn’t kill Jackson, then Stiles would. Assuming, of course, that they also didn’t kill Stiles. Something that seemed less likely as one of the goons tossed them both into an empty surgery, Chris Argent locking the door after he joined them. 

Stiles scrambled a little against the gurney and Jackson, still unbalanced with the lopsided weight of one brand new wing hanging off his shoulder. He’d just barely gotten his feet under him when he felt a fist gather his shirt and yank him up, spinning him around and pinning him to the wall. 

He had a moment to see Argent’s face before the man’s hand brushed the skin on Stiles’ neck, beginning to say “Let me ask you a ques-” 

Before he could finish, he cut himself off with a gasp, one Stiles found himself echoing a second later. 

The uneven weight on his back suddenly balanced. He could feel a second gossamer wing brushing his skin, fluttering against the wall. 

Perhaps it was because he was younger. Perhaps it was because he’d already been through this once tonight. For whatever reason, Stiles recovered much more quickly than Chris. 

He kneed Argent in the gut and yanked the man’s pinky off it’s plate. He scrambled away as soon as he was released, shuddering from the now-familiar feeling of a surging soulbond. With a bit of space between them, he could finally see that yes, Chris had a wing, a single wing, extended from his back, frantically flapping as the hunter stood there in shock. It was a matte black moth’s wing, buffeting the air and sending surgical equipment flying. 

No one approached Stiles, but the goons remained in front of the locked door. There was still no escape, and Jackson was useless to the situation, just watching it play out with a gobsmacked expression. 

Stiles silently snatched a scalpel that had fallen to the floor, keeping an eye on Chris as he examined the wing with a stunned look; keeping an eye on the confusion that crept across his face when he realized that there was just one wing. 

“Where’s-”

“I really don’t think you want to hear the answer to that,” Stiles interrupted, voice low. 

Chris clenched his jaw and straightened, staring at him, clearly considering his options. 

“You-”

He stopped, running a hand over his face, briefly touching his wing again. He looked at the other hunters, and then Jackson. 

“Get this one out of here,” he barked at the hunters. “Explain what will happen to him if he goes outside again tonight.” 

They obeyed without question, and Stiles wondered exactly what kind of weight Chris’ name held.

As soon as the door was locked again behind them, Chris turned to look at him again with a sigh, shoulder slightly hunched. 

“This is… not how I imagined this would happen. If it ever happened,” he said, shrugging the single wing again, a hint of bafflement to his expression. “But there are things happening tonight, Stiles. It’s important-”

“I know exactly what’s happening, and I’m not telling you where Scott is,” Stiles said flatly. “I’ve known you for all of five minutes, four of which you spent throwing me around.”

“You don’t understand, Stiles,” Chris grit out. “We hunters have to maintain the safety of humans like us. I swear to you, you’ll understand once I can teach you-”

“I’m sorry, what?” Stiles blurted out. 

“It takes time to explain everything about the hunter’s code, but right now Scott is out there-”

“No no,” Stiles interrupted again. “Are you saying you expect me to become a hunter?” he asked, incredulous. 

“Once you’re in the know as a human, it’s the only way to stay safe,” Chris said gravely. 

“Oh fuck you,” Stiles said vehemently, turning away to stalk around the surgery. “Fuck both of you, I can’t believe I have two soulmates and both of them think they get to decide who I’m going to be!”

“Two-”

“I already know about your stupid code!” Stiles continued to rant, ignoring Chris as he stormed around, glaring at the walls. “A code that’s as good as worthless without anyone to check your actions!” 

“Wait-” 

“Absolutely fucking not, you’ve taken enough time already.” And with that, Stiles jammed the scalpel into the electrical box he’d just found, causing sparks to shower from the equipment above Chris. He flung himself out of the way, stumbling with the new weight of a single wing at his back, giving Stiles enough time to rush the door and fling the lock open. 

“By the way, your sister? She doesn’t give a shit about your code. If you’re going to go find anyone tonight, it should be her.” 

And Stiles was gone. 

__________

“WAIT!” Stiles screamed, throwing himself out of the Porsche as Jackson prepared to throw the molotov cocktail. 

Peter was a murderer, and a manipulator, but he was also Stiles’ soulmate, and he couldn’t just watch him die.

“Don’t! He’s my soulmate!” he yelled, hurrying around the car, not quite within arms-length of Peter’s hulking shifted form. The single wing extended behind him like a flag, the pure white of it making it look like a surrender when Stiles knew Peter would do anything but. 

“He’s what?” two voices yelled at once. 

Stiles looked from Scott to Chris, and decided Chris’ question held significantly more weight. 

“Yeah,” Stiles confirmed. Chris’ mouth hung open for a moment. 

“No,” he denied, shaking his head too, as if that would change the truth of it. Stiles tried to hold on to his patience, remembering that Chris had just discovered his sister was a murderous whack-job. A dead murderous whack-job. A dead murderous whack-job who had killed their soulmate’s entire family, and then been killed by said soulmate. 

Christ. 

Stiles noticed Peter shrinking slightly out of the corner of his eye, shifting back to a more human form as he calmed slightly. Derek growled near them. 

“Stiles, get out of the way,” he spit out, claws curled toward Peter. Stiles scoffed.

“So you can kill him? I literally just told you he’s my soulmate. No.” 

“Stiles.” Stiles startled at the rough voice coming from Peter. His face still held some of the shift, and his claws were at the ready. “Why do you have two wings?” 

Stiles looked at Chris, at his very visible single black wing, and then back at Peter. The same denial living on Chris’ face grew on Peter’s. 

“No,” he growled out, echoing Chris. 

“Yes,” Stiles emphasized, beginning to lose patience. Peter lost slightly more of his Alpha shape, bringing a clawless hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. 

Everyone in the clearing relaxed a little. 

Eventually, Peter straightened up and turned to Derek. 

“Take your shot.” 

“Oh for fucks-” Stiles couldn’t finish the sentence as Derek rushed around him, attacking Peter. Peter immediately threw him, taking the fight away from Stiles. 

Of course Peter would rather give his nephew a chance to kill him than deal with having a hunter for a soulmate. Of course. 

After a few minutes of crashing and snarls, Chris came to stand awkwardly next to Stiles, watching the fight as well. 

“I can give you a ride,” he offered. 

“Maybe after I know whether we’re going to need a funeral for our other soulmate,” Stiles said dismissively. There was another awkward beat of silence, and then-

“You know, it’s not a bad life, being a hunter.” 

“It wouldn’t be a bad life being a werewolf either,” Stiles shot back. “That’s what Peter offered.” Stiles could see outrage on Chris’ face, but whatever he was going to say was cut off by a loud crack of bone breaking, and a whine as Derek finally submitted. Stiles clapped once and rubbed his hands together.

“Great! Congratulations on not dying Peter. Thanks for the offer of a ride, Chris. Fuck both of you, I’m leaving.” 

And with that, Stiles once again got into the driver’s seat of Jackson’s Porsche and tore out of there. 

Peter and Chris stared after him for a moment before glancing at each other, and then immediately looking away. 

The clearing was completely silent, until-

“Can… can I get a ride?” asked Jackson.

__________

“I am giving you space.” 

Stiles looked up from his homework to see his dad standing in the doorway. 

“O… kay?” Stiles said, confused. John pointed at Stiles’ wings. 

“I am giving you the space, and you can tell me about your soulmates when you are comfortable,” John emphasized. Stiles squinted. 

“Are you reciting a parenting book at me right now?” 

“It’s a good parenting book,” John protested, and then sighed. “I just… I didn’t get it at the time, but I just want you to know that if you have two soulmates… that’s okay.” 

“I know it’s okay,” Stiles said, eyes narrowed. 

“Then why won’t you tell me about them?” John asked, a hint of a whine in his voice. It was Stiles’ turn to sigh. 

“It’s not just that there’s two of them. They’re- it’s complicated. And I really, really don’t think they’re ready. For any of it. Honestly, I’m not sure I am either. So yeah. Space is probably the best policy right now.”

John pursed his lips and then nodded. 

“I’m off to work then. I’ll see you in the morning, alright kiddo?”

“Yeah Dad. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Stiles listened to his dad clamber down the stairs and lock the door behind himself. The rumble of the cruiser rose up through his propped open window, and he paused to try adjusting his wings as the sound of the car faded away. 

He was getting better at moving them around. He felt more like a stumbling toddler than a newborn with no muscle control. His back barely ached at all anymore, and he spared another thought of gratitude that his wings were light. 

The iridescence still caught his eye in a distracting way, though, and even worse when they refracted light.

“They’re beautiful.” 

Stiles startled, nearly flailing out of his chair. 

“What the fuck Peter!” he hissed. “Haven’t you heard of a door?” 

Peter casually stepped down from the window ledge, inviting himself into Stiles’ room. 

“Why would I use a door when your window was already open?” he asked, wandering over to Stiles’ bookshelf to look at the titles, and giving Stiles a clear view of his back. 

“You still haven’t talked to Chris,” Stiles said flatly, eyeing the lonely wing tucked into his back. 

“I have no reason to talk to the hunter,” Peter said, turning to look at Stiles. “Just because he’s your other soulmate doesn’t mean he’s mine.”

Stiles stared at him in disbelief. 

“You’re kidding me right?”

“No fate in the universe could possibly be so cruel to give me an Argent for a soulmate,” Peter spat out before smoothing his expression. “You on the other hand, have proven yourself to be clever and capable. Have you given any more thought to my offer?”

“Your ‘offer’? The one you tried to con me into by insinuating there’s some kind of magical extra special bonus soulbond that comes with being a werewolf?” Stiles clarified sharply. 

Peter smiled unrepentantly. 

“Yes, that one.” 

Stiles stared at him, unimpressed. 

“You would make a wonderful wolf, sweetheart.” Peter approached him silently, laying a light hand on his wing. Stiles had to fight back a shiver as their potential bond surged again. 

“Feel my sincerity,” Peter urged. “You would be so-”

“Back away from him, Hale.” 

Peter and Stiles’ attention snapped to the doorway, Christopher standing there rigidly, fists clenched. 

Stiles flicked his wing away from the distraction of Peter’s touch, and said, “Okay, I know that door was locked.”

Chris just tucked a lockpick back into his pocket. 

“I heard Hale in here. I had to make sure you were safe.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. 

“I’m fine. I’m not sure about you two though. I can’t believe you haven’t even touched yet.”

Chris looked at Peter with daggers in his eyes. 

“He killed my sister-”

“She killed my entire family-” Peter hissed back. 

“Yeah, I know,” Stiles interrupted, “but you two can’t even touch each other for a second to confirm whether or not you’re soulmates. Less than a second! A millisecond! Even if you decide you hate each other and can’t stand to be soulbonded, don’t you at least want your other god damn wing?!” He folded his arms and glared at them. 

The weight of his glare was a heavy thing, as Peter and Chris quickly came to realize. Heavier and heavier with every second, in fact. And he did have a point. 

Inch by inch, they moved closer to each other, both reaching out a single pointer finger slowly. 

Too slow for Stiles, apparently. 

“Is this a re-enactment of ‘The Creation of Adam’? Is that why you aren’t touching? Is that what’s happening here?” 

Peter and Chris both shot irritated looks at Stiles’ raised eyebrows, and finally surged forward to touch each other. 

Just for a millisecond. There and apart. 

Stiles was right. That’s all it took. 

Peter lurched back slightly as the weight on his other shoulder balanced out, Chris doing the same but with more fluttering. 

As soon as they regained their balance, they looked at each other in shock. 

Stiles smiled. 

“Thank you,” he said, voice sincere. There was a beat of silence, and then- “Now get out of my room, I have homework.” 

They stared back at Stiles, shock and surprise still evident on their faces. Stiles waited a moment before realizing that he was going to have to clarify. 

“I’m sixteen, dudes. You’re both in your thirties. Now that you know you’re soulmates, sort out your shit. I know there’s a lot there, but whatever you need to do, you have two years to do it. I’m not bonding with anyone before I even have a high school degree.” 

Stiles turned around and focused on his homework again. He threw up two fingers behind himself in farewell. 

“Bye. Text me.”

[thinkinem]

seeing discussion of lgbtq+ representation in one chicago on the dash so I’m taking this as my opportunity to float my overindulgent head canon* that Matt Casey is one superbly repressed queer.

*this quickly got out of hand and is likely well into au territory, but if I have to think about-- it as incoherent as it is--then you do too!

The reason he botched his moment with Sylvie so hard was that when things slowed down and Sylvie asked her Gabby question, Matt got majorly overwhelmed by the reality that he was about to jump into another relationship with a woman that already has all these ideas about who he is as a man and as a boyfriend. 

Usually he can ignore the dull feeling of disconnect that always comes when he’s first intimate with a woman. But dammit, he really thought Sylvie could be The One. He really thought this time those feelings of affection and aesthetic appreciation that he could conjure when he pressed himself to meant something. He was so sure that he was going to feel that spark people write songs about with Sylvie. That it was going to redeem him for all the ways he couldn’t be enough for Gabby, for all the times he looked Hallie in the face and wasn’t truthful.

But that spark, swoop, tingle, whatever it’s supposed to be, it isn’t there. Sure, he’s got the motions down, a smooth execution of the classic moves, and he likes feeling strong and needed and scooping Sylvie up without hesitation does that for him. But it’s not the aha moment he was expecting. The moments they’d shared over the past two years, the little glimpses of a future with this woman in his arms turn stale just like they always do when he goes to seal the deal. 

When Sylvie pulls back, Matt’s heart stops. He’s sure this is it, that if anyone is going to finally see through him it’s going to be Sylvie Brett. And in a lot of ways he’s relieved. Sylvie is a safe space, a trusted confidante, he knows she won’t mock or laugh. But also the idea of putting words to the way he feels scares the life out of him, to say it out loud would make his Otherness too real. (Even when he and Kelly were in the middle of whatever it was they had, Matt could never fully admit to it out loud, not even just as a whisper in the dark to the man that had already seen all of him and stayed close anyway). 

But Sylvie doesn’t see through him. Or she thinks she does, but really she couldn’t be farther from the truth. So when she asks if he’d go with Gabby, it feels easiest to say he doesn’t know. 

But his “I don’t know” was less about going with Gabby as an individual, and more about the idea of committing himself to another/any woman again. The divorce gutted him. It forced up a lot of thoughts and feelings that he was relying on that relationship to keep a lid on. But also, it felt a lot like checking off a task from a to do list: he did his due diligence as a man to have a wife and attempt a classic version of a family just like he was always expected to do (and in a lot of ways it felt like a big fuck you to his father and every one of his sneering insults).

The thing is, Matt knows in his bones that he wants someone like Sylvie Brett by his side for the rest of his life; she’s amazing, loyal, funny, understanding, everything he’d want in a partner. But in that moment Matt decides he cannot go down this road again. Sylvie is all those wonderful things and more, and she deserves a guy who wants all of her, not just the idea of her. 

For a moment he thinks it’s going to work out. He gets out the cliched “it’s complicated” and is almost ready to do it, ready to own who he is right there. But the words get a little stuck and then Sylvie is filling in the blanks with all the wrong colors (and, Jesus, isn’t that familiar). Then the next thing he knows, he’s breaking Sylvie Brett’s heart exactly the way he vowed to never do. The moment is quick and messy and feels terrifyingly unsalvageable, but it’s happening, then it happened, and there’s nothing he can do about it. (He sleeps with Sydney because that’s what he does when a relationship ends: he sleeps with a stranger, always female, and does everything opposite what he did in the relationship, just to double test the theory that it really is something in him and not just around him. Sydney: sexy and funny and charming; The Theory: confirmed)

And suddenly Matt is exhausted. He’s got decades of built up secret and accumulated grief on his shoulders and he can’t move with it all weighing him down. So he just sort of stops fighting it. He puts up the token efforts with Sylvie, tells her he doesn’t regret it, that she’s still very important to him, then lets her walk away when she informs him that it can never happen again, that he is a man still in love with his ex wife. On net, she’s actually kinda half right, and he lets himself have a quiet, sardonic chuckle at that.

Matt’s got the job, his rank, his men, the city. They’re more than enough to live for, to love, to give his all. They’ve got expectations of him too, and they’re ones he can meet with an ease that doesn’t exist anywhere else in his life.

Five weeks after Matt decides he’s really only meant to be Captain Casey, he wakes up on Christie’s couch with the mother of all hangovers. He gets a solid five minutes of laying awake, nauseous and self-loathing before his older sister comes in with a steaming cup of coffee and smile more gentle than he’s ever seen her wear. She digs her hand into his shoulder and tells him about coming home from her freshman year of college for Thanksgiving. 

She tells him about letting herself be dragged back to the high school stadium by friends she hadn’t quite lost touch with yet for the annual cross-town rival Turkey Bowl football game. She tells him about not watching a single moment of the game, about missing the moment when Star Quarterback John Murphy’s collar bone snapped. She tells him about becoming the most committed high school football fan in the five minutes after the ATs got John Murphy off the field, and the coach decided that what the hell, they’d finish the game anyway, that scrawny freshman Matt Casey would finally get some playing time after a whole season of sitting the bench. She tells him about flying off her seat, about going hoarse the next day from telling everyone in the stadium “that was my brother, Matt Casey, the kid who made the final point, that’s my brother.”

Matt, sitting up now, gives Christie a soft smile and mumbles that it was fluke really, that he didn’t see a second of playing time again until his junior year, that he was always more of a hockey guy. Christie reaches across him again digging her nails into his shoulders, says with the mean kind of love only older sisters are capable of, “Matthew Michael, you are not a fluke.”

A week after Matt pulls himself off Christie’s couch Sylvie tells him she is done needing space, that she misses her friend. He’s grateful for that and does his best to not be annoyed when she starts looking surprised that he isn’t ‘fighting’ for her or doing whatever charming manly bullshit he would’ve done even just a few months ago. But Matt is done fighting for things he doesn’t really want, is done fighting himself at every turn and is ready to start fighting for himself. He isn’t a fluke and one of these days he’s going to prove it. 

In fact, he proves it when he goes to dinner at Stella and Kelly’s new place on a warm fall night just under a year since he was standing in the hallway of Sylvie’s apartment exhausted of himself. It’s him, Stella and Kelly of course, Sylvie but not her boyfriend, and Sam Kidd, Stella’s older brother who just moved to Chicago and is “desperate enough for friends that I’m hanging around my baby sister, I know it’s--ow, Steve, don’t hit me!”

Sam Kidd is funny and charming and tells terrific stories about a precocious preteen Stella. And after dinner when he and Matt end up alone in the kitchen having volunteered for clean up duty, Sam puts a firm hand on Matt’s shoulder and says he appreciates how Matt has looked out for his baby sister these past years, that he was skeptical of the stories Stella told him about her Captain right up until he shook Matt’s hand earlier that night. Sam readily agrees when Matt insists that Stella has never needed any looking after but his hand lingers in an appreciative squeeze on his shoulder anyway. 

They walk down the block toward their cars together after seeing Sylvie safely to her Uber. When they get to Sam’s sleek black sports car (he’s in marketing and apparently very good at it), Matt is less surprised than he thought he would be when Sam crowds him against the passenger side door and sweetly asks “would it be alright if I kissed you?” (Matt says yes, to the kiss and a date, as well as a second date and third one too).

They don’t make a big announcement or anything, but they also don’t hide it. When Stella and Kelly get married in the Spring, Sam pulls Matt out onto the dance floor and holds him close right in front of everyone. For the first time in his life, Matt doesn’t mind the attention a single bit because he’s finally where he fits.

When Matt is all danced out, and Sam is cutting in to dance with his sister, Matt finds himself in the little anteroom straightening out gift bags and taking a moment to feel quietly pleased with himself. Sylvie comes in then, eyes shining to compliment the new ring on her left hand. For a moment Matt worries she’s upset with him, but then her face breaks into a soft grin and he barely catches her “oh, Matt” before he’s catching her. When they pull away from each other Matt gives her a grin of his own, one that he hopes says I’m sorry I hurt you, I’m sorry it all got so messy but I can’t be sorry for who I am. Sylvie must understand him because she’s still grinning as she says, “you’re happy.” It’s not a question, but Matt nods anyway because finally, after years and years, it’s fully and all the way true. He’s happy.

[thecassadilla]

Somewhere Only We Know

Pairing: Kristanna

Word Count: 4,202/AO3

Summary: Jealousy rears its ugly head as Anna and Kristoff each bring a date to a charity gala.

Author’s Note: Hi everyone! This is my contribution for Kristanna Week Day 4 - Green! It’s a bit of a doozy in terms of length XD The title comes from the Keane song of the same name (I was in the midst of a Grey’s Anatomy binge while writing this lol). Enjoy!!!

As Kristoff sat in his car outside of the banquet hall, he wondered how he’d gotten himself into this situation. Donning a suit, and waiting for his “date” to arrive, he contemplated leaving and never looking back. Truth be told, if it wasn’t for Anna’s sister giving him a job with her company, he wouldn’t be here. And truth be told, he only accepted the job because it meant he’d get to stay close to Anna.

Luckily for him, Anna would always come to his office while he was hard at work and the other employees were packing up for the day. She’d perch herself on the edge of his desk, cross her ankles and fold her hands in her lap while she patiently waited for a sliver of attention from him. When he was finally able to give her the attention that she desired, she’d always brag about her weekend plans or the dates she was going on. He tried his best to play the role of the “supportive best friend who definitely wasn’t in love with her,” despite the fact that that notion couldn’t be farther from the truth; he’d had feelings for her for years and had never found the courage to act upon them. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway, because he was certain his feelings were unrequited.

The day she’d brought up the gala was different, though, and he recalled their conversation in his head. 

“Hey, sorry for staying late again, I just have one more thing to do and then I’ll leave.”

“I’m not here to scold you for staying late - although you probably should go home. I just wanted to let you know that you’ll be sitting at mine and Elsa’s table at the gala.”

He looked over at her for a split second before dragging his eyes back to his work. “I’m sorry, did you just say that I’m sitting at the CEO’s table at a charity gala?”

“Yes,” she confirmed.

“I should be sitting with the other people in my department, no?”

“Well, we were friends before you started working here, so you’re sitting with us.”

“Great,” he muttered, trying to focus on the numbers in front of him. “Now they’ll all have a real reason to hate me.”

“If anyone hates you, you can refer them to my sister.”

He shook his head, sighing.

“Anyway,” she continued in a sing-song voice, “I just need to know if you’re bringing a guest or -”

“Yes,” he cut her off mid-sentence, without thinking about the repercussions. 

“You are?”

“I’m allowed to, right?”

“Of course,” she answered in a strained voice. “I’ll be sure to put down that you’re bringing a guest.”

She hopped down from the desk and made her way to the door without saying another word.

“You’re leaving?” he asked, tearing his eyes away from his work and looking over at her. She normally waited for him to finish so they could walk out together. 

“Yeah, uh...I have plans to meet up with someone.”

“Oh, okay. Have fun. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. See you tomorrow.” 

What brought him back to reality was the sight of a car pulling into the spot next to his. He glanced over to find that it was his date, Lauren - who also happened to be his happily-married neighbor. Lauren and her husband, Matt, were the only people who knew about his feelings for Anna, and he often went to them to vent or seek advice. He went to them the same day that Anna came into his office so he could complain to them about about running his stupid mouth.

“Okay, so there’s this stupid charity gala thing coming up at the end of the month. I don’t want to go, but I’m kind of obligated because of the job thing.”

“Uh huh,” Matt nodded.

“And today, Anna came into my office, like she always does, and told me that I’m not going to be sitting with my department, but with her and her CEO sister. And she asked me if I’m bringing a date, which I said ‘yes’ to without even thinking.”

Lauren and Matt exchanged a glance. “What exactly is the problem?” Lauren asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t have a date!” he exclaimed. “I lied about having a date, and Anna is going to have a date, because she’s Anna and she always has a date.”

“Maybe the reason Anna always has a date is because you’d rather complain about her having dates than actually ask her on a date.”

“You’re really not helping.”

“You seem...desperate,” Lauren commented.

He picked his head up and looked over at her. “Do you think it’s too late to get out of it? I could just...not show up, right?”

“Or you could go and just bring a date.”

“Where am I going to find a date?” he scoffed. 

“I’ll go with you,” Lauren offered. “It may be my one and only chance to actually meet the object of your affections otherwise known as Anna.”

A set of fingers tapping on his window snapped him out of the flashback. Lauren was standing there, motioning for him to step out of the vehicle. With a sigh, he opened the door and climbed out.

“Thinking about making a run for it?” she teased. 

“Sort of,” he answered. “Thanks again for doing this.”

“If I wasn’t so eager to meet the woman you’re in love with, I would’ve have even offered,” she laughed before motioning to her long black dress. “I had to dig this out of my closet. I’m surprised it still fits - I wore it years ago when I was a bridesmaid in my sister’s wedding. I think it’s the only dress I own aside from my wedding dress.”

He blushed at her mention of his feelings for Anna, but decided to brush it off. “You look great.”

“You don’t look too bad, yourself.”

“Thanks.”

“Now, what’s the angle I’m working with here? Do you want me to give her the third degree?”

“I think you should be yourself,” he said.

“Where’s the fun in that? It’s not like these people will ever see me again.”

He rolled his eyes. “Come on, we should go inside.”

The hallway of the venue was bustling with activity, but he was able to locate their seating card right away. 

“I’m going to run to the restroom to put on my lipstick and I’ll be right back,” Lauren said after they arrived at the empty table. 

As Kristoff looked around the crowded room, he thought for a split second that he’d be able to survive the party and go on with life as usual. Until he spotted Anna and forgot how to breathe. 

She was radiant in a long, satin, emerald green a-line dress that hugged the top half of her body and flared out at her hips, only accentuated by a slit that ended mid-thigh. Her hair fell in loose curls that framed her face and her lips were painted a stunning, dark red. A pair of pearl earrings adorned her ears and a matching necklace hung from her throat, but the most noticeable accessory was the arm of the man she had brought as her date, which was interlocked with hers. His jaw tensed up and he was grateful that she wasn’t yet looking in his direction, because his face would certainly give away how envious he was feeling.

But of course, as soon as she saw him, she was rushing over, dragging her handsome mystery guy along.

“Oh Kristoff!” she exclaimed, pressing her cheek to his and making a puckering noise. “You look so handsome!”

“Stop it,” he blushed. “You look stunning.”

“Thank you,” she gushed, looping her arm around the man’s. “I’m being so rude! Kristoff, this is Brian. Brian, Kristoff.”

Brian extended his hand out and though he hesitated for a moment, Kristoff eventually reached out and shook it.

“Nice to meet you,” Brian smiled.

“Same here,” Kristoff said, though he was focusing on the other man’s features; dark hair, beard, glasses. 

“So, where's your date?”

Anna nudged him. “Brian -”

Kristoff cut her off before she could finish. “Lauren? She’s around here somewhere.”

He swore that he saw Anna’s face twitch, but he convinced himself that it was just the strobe lights playing tricks with his eyes. 

She smiled then, he was certain of that, and patted Brian’s arm. “You haven’t seen Elsa around, have you?”

He shook his head. “Can’t say that I have.”

“I should probably go find her. We’ll see you in a little bit.”

Before he could utter another word, they were shuffling away, and he breathed a sigh of relief. A moment later, Lauren tapped him on the shoulder from behind.

“Horrible timing,” he remarked.

“What’d I miss?” she laughed.

“Anna came over, with her date.”

“Oh man, I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”

“Hey, how’s it going?” Ryder interrupted, his voice startling them.

“Hey,” Kristoff replied, shifting to face him.

“Who’s this?”

“I’m Lauren,” she answered for herself, reaching out her hand.

Ryder grinned widely and shook it enthusiastically. “Wow, I can’t believe you brought a date.”

Kristoff glared at him but just as he was about to open his mouth, Lauren refuted the younger man. “Where’s your date?”

“Oh, I don’t -” he started, before throwing his hands up in surrender. “I’m really only here as moral support for my sister’s girlfriend.”

“Speaking of, have you seen your sister? Or Elsa? I know Anna was looking for her.”

“Elsa’s probably in the bathroom, puking or something and I’m sure Honey is with her,” he shrugged. “Speaking of Anna, have you seen her date?”

“You should probably talk less and smile more,” Lauren proposed, immediately sensing Kristoff’s discomfort. “It’ll keep you out of trouble.”

“Whoa, was that a Hamilton reference?”

“Ryder,” Kristoff warned, grabbing his attention. “Just...keep it cool, okay? We’re all adults here and this night isn’t about us.”

“I have a feeling that this dinner is going to be very interesting,” he remarked, before taking his seat at the table.

“He’s right,” Kristoff murmured to Lauren. “He’s going to be the only normal one at the table, and that’s saying something.”

“You should really take your own advice, you know. Keep it cool.”

He motioned to the group that was approaching their table; Elsa and Honeymaren holding hands in ice blue and beige gowns, respectively, and then Anna and Brian, whose arms were still linked. “Here they come.”

“Holy sh*t, why didn’t you tell me they were all literal goddesses?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Look at them, all tall and leggy and gorgeous,” she said. “They’re supermodels and I didn’t even bother to dye my roots!”

“What happened to keeping it cool?” he teased. “And you look great.”

“Hi,” Anna said once they’d reached the table. “You must be Lauren.”

Lauren smiled. “I am. And you are?”

“Anna,” she answered, her face falling. The two women exchanged a simple handshake. She didn’t bother to introduce Brian, who took his seat at the table, and instead kept her attention on Lauren. Without skipping a beat, she asked, “How do you and Kristoff know each other?”

“We live in the same apartment building,” Lauren explained. “Kind of hard to ignore a guy as big as him in the laundry room. How do you know Kristoff?”

Anna glanced over at Kristoff, as if she had expected him to have told Lauren this stuff in previous conversation. “We’ve been friends for like, ever,” she smiled tensely before looking at him again and clearing her throat. “Really good friends.”

“I was kind of asking how you met,” Lauren chuckled.

“Oh. We met in college. He didn’t want to be bothered and I just...kept bothering him.”

He smiled at the memory of her insisting on sitting next to him in class while he was trying to be invisible. His first impression was that she was a little too perky, but that opinion vanished within a week when he realized how charming and friendly she was. She had had nothing but good intentions, after all. 

Anna, on the other hand, seemed to be out of character in the present moment. He was having trouble reading her face as well as he normally could, but something seemed off about how she’d responded to Lauren; he couldn’t tell if it was embarrassment or resentment or something else. He became worried that this event would be the straw that broke the camel’s back in terms of their friendship, and he couldn’t imagine his life without Anna in it. 

For most of the night, the table was tense and unusually quiet. In between the dancing and speeches, there was little socialization with the exception of Ryder, who was relishing in the ability to be the center of attention for a few minutes at a time. He was vaguely aware of the fact that his eyebrows were drawn tightly together and his jaw was clenched as he watched Anna and Brian whisper to each other. Whenever Anna wasn’t speaking, he caught her looking over in his direction, lips pursed.

“She looks like she’s trying to choke back vomit,” Lauren whispered at one point, looking in Anna’s direction. “Is she okay?”

“I have no idea, she’s normally very talkative. I’m worried about her.”

“Ask her if she’s okay.”

“No, Brian is next to her. She’ll tell him or her sister if something’s wrong.”

Towards the end of the night, the dancing resumed once again, and thankfully, Lauren was as disinterested as Kristoff was, so they hung back at the table while everyone else departed.

“Is it always like that with them?” Lauren spoke up as soon as the others were out of ear shot. “Tense and awkward?”

“No,” Kristoff answered, shaking his head. “I have no idea what that was about. Especially Anna - on a normal day, she’d talk your ear off.”

“She really didn’t look well. Something is eating her alive and I have a feeling that I know what it is.”

“Huh?”

“Is it possible...and just, hear me out -”

“What?” he asked, impatiently.

“Is it possible that the reason she parades all of those guys around you is because she wants attention from you?”

He looked at her solemnly, unable to muster up a response. He shrugged instead of answering.

Her face softened. “Something is not being said here.”

“I don’t know, Lauren. I really don’t know.”

She placed her hand on his shoulder. “I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but the only way to resolve this is to talk to her. And to be honest, about everything.”

“Yeah, but what if it goes horribly wrong?”

“What’s the absolute worst that happens? You quit your job and stop talking to them? You have a very employable job and you’re a good-looking guy - the ball is in your court no matter which way it goes.”

As if on cue, Anna appeared behind them. “Uh, Lauren, I hope you don’t mind me asking to take your date away, but Kristoff promised me a dance,” she said, before looking at Kristoff and adding, “If you’re up to it.”

He nodded - even though he was certain they’d never talked about sharing a dance - and moved to stand up, before Lauren placed a hand on his arm. “I’m actually going to head out now. I have work in the morning and I should go home and get some sleep.”

“Of course,” he said softly. “Do you want me to walk you to your car?”

“Don’t worry about it,” she answered. She stood up, then, and he quickly followed suit. “It was really nice to meet you, Anna.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Anna whispered as Lauren walked away. 

Kristoff held out his arm, and she looked up at him for a moment, as if she were unsure of what to do before finally accepting. They walked quietly to the dance floor, and once there, they locked their hands together. Anna draped her free arm around his shoulder and his free hand fell to her waist as they began to sway back and forth.

“Did you have fun tonight?” he asked.

“Not really,” she admitted. “But it was really great to see you with Lauren, she’s a really nice girl.”

“Anna -”

“I did promise myself that I would be honest, though,” she said, meeting his gaze. Her eyes were brimming with tears, threatening to spill over at any moment. “And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t positively green with envy the entire time.”

“What?”

“Oh, come on,” she retorted, a hollow laugh escaping her lips. “Don’t pretend like you didn’t notice.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You came with Brian -”

“Brian’s my friend,” she confessed suddenly, cutting him off mid-sentence. “I’m not interested in him at all and I only asked him to come with me because you didn’t ask me.”

“I didn’t know that you wanted me to ask you.”

“I tried to make it obvious, but you said you were bringing someone and you brought Lauren, so clearly you weren’t going to ask me anyway.”

“Lauren is married.”

“She - what?”

“She’s married. She lives in my building, and I watch football with her husband. There’s nothing going on between us.”

“Oh,” she croaked, gripping his jacket tightly in her hand. 

“I think we…I think we need to talk.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, a single tear rolling down her cheek. He reached up to brush it away, allowing his hand to linger for a moment and she leaned into his touch, closing her eyes and breathing in deeply.

“Did you drive here?”

“No, Honey drove me.”

“Do you want me to drive you home?”

She shook her head, lip quivering. “I don’t want to go home.”

“You can come back to my place,” he assured her. “We can talk there.”

She nodded, and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and walked her toward the exit, not bothering to say goodbye to any of their friends. When they reached the glass doors that led to the parking lot, it became apparent that it was torrentially raining outside.

“Wait here, I’ll go get the car.”

“It’s fine.”

“You’re going to ruin your dress,” he said, but it was too late. She pushed the door open and stepped out into the torrential rain, instantly soaking her dress and hair. With a sigh, he followed her out and pointed in the direction of his car. “I parked over there.”

By the time they made it to his car, they were drenched from head to toe. 

“I’m going to put the heat on so we can dry off a little,” he said, before reaching inside the center console and pulling out a stack of napkins. “Here, so you can wipe your face.”

She sat motionless, strands of her dampened hair clinging to her face for a moment, before finally accepting one and wiping her face. The ride back to his apartment was silent, and the second walk in the rain was equally as unpleasant as the first. The water dripping off of them left a trail in the carpet and puddles in the elevator, and he was relieved when they finally made it to his apartment. She kicked off her heels at his front door, and he did the same with his shoes and socks. 

“I’ll get you some dry clothes, okay? And you can take a hot shower to warm up.”

“What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me,” he insisted. “I can go after you.”

She gave him a small nod and he led her into his bedroom. He retrieved a clean, dry set of clothes that she could wear, fully aware that they would swamp her petite body, and laid them on the bathroom counter along with a few clean towels. 

As soon as the door closed and the water turned on, he stripped off his own clothes, exchanging them for dry ones. He wouldn’t be able to take his suit to the dry cleaners until tomorrow, so he’d have to hang it from the shower rod and hope that it wouldn’t somehow be ruined overnight. 

She came out of the bathroom a few minutes later, a towel wrapped around her head, and he smiled at the sight of it. As predicted, his clothes were hanging off of her, but she looked quite adorable. “I’m going to jump in, I’ll be out in a few.”

As promised, he showered quickly, relishing the comfort of his dry clothes. He made sure to hang Anna’s dress from the curtain rod in addition to his suit. When he emerged from the bathroom, he found Anna sitting on his bed, and he took a seat next to her. They were quiet for a long, long time, and he worried that this was going to be the end of everything for them.

“I talk about you,” he said, finally breaking the silence.

“What?” she asked, her voice wobbly.

“I know Lauren made it seem like I never talk about you, but I do,” he confirmed. “A lot. I think Lauren and her husband know more about you than they know about me.”

She sniffled. “That’s so nice.”

“And I...I would’ve asked you if I had known that was what you wanted.”

“You didn’t…” she started, before closing her eyes and letting out a shaky breath. “It’s not your fault. I could’ve asked you, or I could’ve - there are so many things I could’ve said or done.”

He shook his head. “You said you were being obvious about it -”

She cut him off mid-sentence. “You were working and I was bothering you.”

“No, you weren’t bothering me. You never bother me. I jumped to conclusions,” he admitted, hanging his head. “I thought the reason you brought up the charity gala that day was because you were rubbing in the fact that you had a date. You always have dates. To quote Lauren, you’re a goddess. It isn’t that hard to believe that men are throwing themselves at you.”

She sighed, trying to maintain her composure. “Kristoff, I know that I always talk about my plans, but I don’t go out as often as I’ve led you to believe. In all honesty, I was trying to make you jealous.”

“It worked,” he frowned. “I never said anything because I wanted you to be happy. And I believed that if you viewed me as the type of person that you could share stuff like that with, then you wouldn’t be interested in me as anything more than a friend.”

"Tonight, I got a taste of my own medicine and I can't say I didn't deserve it. Watching you with Lauren - well, there was a part of me that was happy you found someone, but I wished it was me. I wished that I was Lauren, and that you were paying attention to me, and whispering in my ear, and touching me."

"How do you think I felt all this time? Every time you were bragging about a date? Or even tonight, when you brought Brian?"

“I’m really sorry,” she whimpered. “We wouldn’t be in this mess if it wasn’t for me.”

He exhaled deeply. “I think we’re both equally to blame.”

“How did we get to this point? How do we fix this?”

He hesitated for a moment before answering. “I think we both have to be honest about what we want. No more lying, no more games, no more trying to make the other person jealous.”

“Okay.” She took a deep breath and wiped away a fallen tear before saying, “I want you.”

“And I want you.”

“So we both want the same thing? We can be together?”

He smirked. “I think it would be foolish if we didn’t get together.”

She smiled genuinely for the first time that night, before asking in a small voice, “Can I stay here tonight?” 

He nodded. “Of course.”

They crawled to the top of the bed and nestled under the covers after he turned out the lights, a safe distance between them until Anna spoke up. “Will you hold me?”

“Come here,” he said, opening his arms.

She curled up against his chest and he wrapped his arms around her, determined to keep her safe and warm. He certainly hadn’t expected that this was how they would end their night, but he was so glad that it had gone in this direction. The alternative - the one he feared would happen - where their friendship would end and there’d be nothing left but broken hearts and falling tears was much scarier. Now, there was no more jealousy and no more fabrications, just the simple-yet-complicated thing they had between them. And he selfishly hoped they could stay this way forever.

“I really missed you tonight,” she said. “I missed talking to you, and spending time with you, and I never want to go through that again.”

He tightened his grip on her. “I missed you, too.”

“Don’t let me go, okay? Please?”

“Never,” he promised, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. And he intended to keep that promise for as long as she’d let him.

[cacophony-eg]

What if Haggar had no control over Kuron (Kuro)?

This one question started many other questions like What if Shiro didn’t Die? What if Lotor passed the White Lion Test? What if Lotor’s Colony of Altean’s didn’t exist? How all these things could happen in (mostly) the same universe?

First Lets Start with “what if Haggar had no control over Kuron?”

Kuron’s escape was an accident, also Kuron wouldn’t have any memories past his time as a gladiator.

(Cause sorry the fact that his memories were up to date made no sense to me. Because going by the show’s canon Shiro was gone, he died there was nothing left of him. Then given this as fact, how would they have gotten all of Shiro’s memories?

Haggar had shown no ability to see through or control the original Shiro, so there would be no way to have Kuron’s memories or the other clones memories up to date after original Shiro’s escape.)

Kuron would have no idea he was part of Voltron, have no memory of piloting the black lion.

During his escape, he still runs into Varkala and Remdax, whom Kuron has to convince that he is not a spy, that he’s just escaped from one of their labs. Once Kuron helps the two not so coordinative rebels against a Galra attack there wholeheartedly trust Kuron, though they keep saying they’re going to keep an eye on him.

Eventually, Varkala and Remdax catch an old broadcast from the Olkari looking for a male human. The two are like ‘hey we got one of those’ and they have to convince Shiro that it’s okay to contact the Okari about him and tell Shiro about Voltron. Explain how Voltron is fighting the oppression of the Galra, and how Voltron’s a force for good. They explain that most of the Voltron lions are piloted by humans. (and make a side note that it used to be piloted by all humans but something happened to one of them, though neither could remember what happened.)

Vakala gets in contact with the Olkari saying they have a human male on at their station, but their connection is so static and weak that the only thing the Olkari can confirm is that their’s a human male with them, and relay that information to the Voltron crew.

Pidge is the one to go investigate thinking it might be Matt, and to her shock she finds Shiro. Kuron introducing himself to the green paladin as if they have never met before. This confuses Pidge a great deal.

“Shiro don’t you recognize me?” Pidge asks taking off her helmet and Shiro nearly has a panic attack thinking she was Matt for a moment before he realizes the height and her voice is completely wrong.

“Katie?” Shiro says shocked, and they both tightly hug each other, both almost crying as Kuron starts apologizing for not being able to protect her brother and Father. As she assures him it’s alright that she knows.

Vakala asks Remdax if he thinks that little person was Shiro’s family or if all humans greet each other this way? Remdax can only shrug as they watch the emotional reunion.

Kuron than starts asking her a bunch of questions about how she became a paladin and how in the world do metal Lions fly. Pidge’s blood goes cold realizing Shiro has no memories of being a paladin or finding the blue lion on earth and is only calling her Katie never Pidge.

And when she tries telling Shiro that he used to be Voltron’s leader and the pilot of the black lion he doesn’t believe her.

Pidge gets in contact with Keith telling him she found Shiro but that he’s missing some of his memories and that she’s headed back with Shiro to the ship. Keith is so relieved and concerned about hearing the news about Shiro. Keith relays this information to the other paladins, Allura suggesting that the healing pods could help resort his memories as they did help restore some of his memories last time.

When Pidge and Kuron get back to the castle of lions, Shiro and Keith have a touching reunion. Kuron telling Keith that he always knew Keith was destined for greatness, then have a somewhat awkward reunion with Hunk, Lance, Allura and Coran. (one involving the confusion over who has what loin based on their colours) Shiro recognizes Hunk and Lance as Garrison cadets but not much else.

When Pidge tries to guild Kuron to the healing pods, he freakouts thinking they’re the same pods that the Galra had him trapped in. This surprised the group, Keith and Pidge manage to calm Kuron down assuring him he doesn’t have to go in it, they try asking him about what he remembered from being in the Galra pod and he does his best to tell them all he remembers though it’s not a lot.

Hunk and Allura use more traditional medical supplies to fix some of Shiro’s injuries. Lance offering to give Shiro a haircut, and Kuron agrees. Of course, Lance talks as he’s cutting Kuron’s hair, saying he gets why going into an alien pod is pretty freaking, but Lance explains why he’s pretty grateful for them as he probably wouldn’t have survived an explosion without them. This catches Kuron’s attention, as he starts viewing Lance more like a real soldier than a cadet and they talk about Lance’s experience in the pod and Kuron feels a little more comfortable about the pobs but admits he’s still not ready to go in one. Lance is very understanding and tells Kuron it’s okay for him to take his time.

While Kuron rests, the team starts talking and making theories as to what could have happened and how he lost his memory. (you know to begin the mystory of if this is really their Shiro or not.)

Since Kuron isn’t being controlled by Haggar and has no memory of being a paladin or piloting the black lion he’s not particularly bothered that the Black lion doesn’t respond to him. (The Black lion even goes as far and putting up its shield when Kuron approaches.) So there’s no tension between Keith and Shiro over that, though that doesn’t stop Kuron from getting easily irritated by Coran or argue with Allura and the others. Lance usually the one to step in between Allura and Shiro to settle them down and find a middle ground, cause Keith keeps falling into the habit of fallowing Shiro that it feels like Keith forgets he’s now the leader. Lance feels like Allura and Shiro can’t find compromises and is now the one doing his best to build a bridge between the two of them as now theirs a constant rift between the black paladin and the Princess.

Part 2: What if Shiro didn’t Die?

Keith is continually surprised by how Shiro’s reacting and even when Keith tries talking to Shiro about it the black paladin is unusually aggressive. Pidge ever the suspicious one asks to do a check-up on his cybernetic arm and Kuron wholeheartedly agrees, still calling Pidge, Katie more often than not. Pidge discovering that even though Kuron’s arm appears the same as Shiro’s old one it’s actually a new one made to look like Shiro’s old one.

Pidge takes Keith to the side and shows him this evidence, Keith says the galra could have just outfitted him with a new one to put him back in the gladiator rings or something like that. Pidge counters that logic; if the galra were going to do that they would have upgraded his arm not replaced it with a near replica. She also points out Shiro’s different behaviour and how the Black Lion treated this Shiro as if he was a complete stranger or as if an enemy was trying to pilot him. As if this Shiro wasn’t their Shiro.

Keith at first doesn’t want to believe Pidge, he desperately wants to believe that this is their Shiro, but as the team spends more time around this Shiro the more different he feels to Keith. Eventually, he comes back to Pidge and admits that this might not be their Shiro and if that’s the case they needed to find the real Shiro. Pidge glad he’s finally on the same page as her and shows all that she has found so far.

That point forward Keith and Pidge team up to find the real Shiro, under the guise that Keith is helping her to find Matt. Since her persistence is what leads them to find ‘Shiro’, Keith says it’s the least he can do. This in turn causes Lance to spend more time around Kuron since the other two people Kuron feels most comfortable with are constantly busy.

This eventually leads to Kuron falling for Lance and kissing the blue paladin. Lance goes through all the stages of Bisexual denial, before finally admitting to himself after a long talk with Hunk that yeah Lance likes Shiro and that he wanted to try and build a relationship with Shiro.

(Adds montage of fluffy Shlance or Kuance moments along with snippets of fluffy Kidge moments between hunting for the real Shiro.)

It takes some time but team wildfire eventually finds hints about a human male working with a vigilant team along the far outskirts of the known universe. To Keith’s and Pidge’s relief and surprise, they find both Shiro and Matt.

Apparently, the black lion teleported him to Matt when the male holt sibling was in desperate trouble. (flashback episode that also explains why Shiro’s hair is now completely white now maybe for the simple reason that the two-tone hair was driving Matt nuts. Matt thinking all silver hair looked better on Shiro then trying to turn it all black. Along with some other cute Shatt moments)

When Pidge and Keith come back with the real Shiro and Matt, Kuron of course has an identity crisis stating ‘he’s the real Shiro he had to be’. But to prove to the others who the real Shiro was Keith and Pidge have their Shiro go into the Black Lion, and the real Shiro is able to pilot the black lion with no resistance from said lion.

Kuron feels confused and betrayed the two people he remembered the most ( Memories of Katie and Keith were nothing but fakes.) But like always Lance is there assuring him what they have wasn’t fake that their relationship only started with him, not the other Shiro. Kuron finding comfort in knowing what he and Lance have is real and tightly holds onto Lance.

Lance chooses to step down as the pilot of the red lion, saying Kuron really needed him right now and knows Keith can handle red no problem. Lance comes up with Kuron’s new name to be Kuro.

Then the episode where the team almost gets destroyed by Haggar, Kuron’s the one that almost sacrifices himself before Lotor steps in to save everyone. There’s also hints of Lotor and Lance bonding since Lance is the only paladin not going on missions he’s the one that often tends to the locked up Lotor and gives him something to do besides being board all the time. Which also causes some jealousy from Kuro and Lance needing to reassure his boyfriend that he’s being nice to Lotor because he was the one to save Kuro’s life and that his greatest interest towards Lotor is figuring out what he uses for his hair to be so silky and shiny.

They defeat Zarkon in a very similar way to the show, (expect that Keith is also there this time around) though Pidge never fully trust Lotor since he kept information about her Dad a secret. Later on Keith is given a speical mission from the Blades that involves his mom but this time Pidge is there as well. Krolia silently impressed with how good of a hacker her son’s compion is, and approves of how close the two seem to be.

Part 3 What if Lotor passed the White Lion Test?

Lotor finds his own way of passing the final Oriande test against the White Lion. Doing it differently than Allura had but still passes. This leads to Lotor and Allura developing the White lion, by far the largest of all the lions.

The White Lion is so big that it splits into two smaller lions for movability and can fuse back together for massive attacks. Needing pilots that can completely trust eachother and work together, Lance and Kuro are chosen by the white lion, both of them being gifted with a bayard and Kuro becomes the white paladin.

High jinx ensues as Lance and Kuro figure out how to pilot the white lion as both one unite and two separate units. Lance taking on the teacher role as he tries to help Kuro understand how to pilot a lion. (as again Kuro has no memory or knowledge of how to pilot any of the lions.) And after going between Blue to Red lion and now to White, Lance feels like he’s getting pretty used to handling all different types of lions. (giving Lance a nice character arch about adaptability.)

Lotor learns to be the new pilot of the castle of lions though still feels guilty over killing Narti and it takes time to reconcile with his old team. With Coran and Krolia there to help, now that she’s found her son she is sticking around.

(Tough without the two years on the time whale, Keith and his mom’s reconciliation is slow going.) Eventually Keith, Pidge and his mom all go on a mission together and they discover a puppy space wolf. Keith feeling sorry for the pup that just lost his parents and Pidge encourages him to keep him. Though he says he has to give him a name and Keith is very confused why he can’t just call the pup wolf.

The team all do their part to try and have Keith and his mom have some bonding time. through they both seem to really enjoy the digital training sessions that Pidge makes for them. The first time Keith ever calls Krolia mom is when she strongly suggest that Keith should date Pidge while standing right infront of Pidge and the rest of the team. Getting a very embarrassed ‘MOM!’ out of Keith. Lance coeing off to the side going ‘awe their officially family now’.

And Lastly: What if Lotor’s Colony of Altean’s never happened?

The Altean Colony thing doesn’t happen, Lotor never created it. Lotor has a whole new level of self-respect as he now not only proved his abilities as a warrior when he became emperor he also proved himself as an alchemist by helping to create the White lion. So now their main enemy is Sendak and the Galra who follow him and refuse to become peaceful and still want to follow Zarkon’s original plans of galactic domination.

Even Sendak eventually brushes Haggar (or Honerva) aside which leads to his downfall and Haggar’s heightened desperation. So just as the enemy Galra seems defeated (after sacrificing the castle ship in the last battle against Sendak) They all try heading to Earth, as without the castle all their lions are low on power and having trouble connecting to anyone, and Earth according to their maps is the next friendless planet.

They get to earth but have to deal with being treated like an enemies before they manage to get people to listen to them. Thanks to Sam Holt vouching for the Voltron team. All the Paladins get their family reunion. Lance introduces Kuro as his family saying he’s Shiro’s twin brother, Kuro surprised and grateful for the warm welcome.

Shiro and Adam get to have their reunion though it’s bitter sweet. Adam pretty much stated that they would never work, that there was a bigger gap between them, then before and that too much they didn’t understand about each other. That Adam can’t be the one by Shiro’s side, but points out that there’s clearly someone who understands what Shiro’s been through and gets Shiro in ways he never could. Adam glances over at Matt who keeps looking at the reunited ex-boyfriends and shyly blushes and looks away when Shiro and Adam look at him.

Honerva does find a way to split between relatives, entering the reality the team had been in during the Hole in the Sky. And not only does she recruit the Alteans in that reality, but she also becomes their empress. Bringing an army of Alteans that have had 10,000 years to advance their technology and when they take prisoners they turn those prisoners into mindless allies increasing their numbers with each victory.

This pushes the teams skills and abilities to the max, because they can’t just destroy their enemy when many of them are allies turned against them against their will. It makes the whole team have to ask hard questions and this also gives the Galra a way to make up for past sins as they fight these intruding Alteans from another reality and since these Alteans have never fought Galra before as they were wiped out thousands of years ago. They are completely thrown off by Galra’s way of victory or death. Altean’s not used to alien creatures risking their life for victory. 

Lotor and Allura have to come to grips with their views on altean culture and how all of it is not perfect. Lotor becomes a great leader for the Galra and Allura eventually becomes a leader to those Alteans that wish for a different way of life who don’t wish to conquer others and want true peace with compromises not forced servitude.

This then causes the Altean rebels and Lotor’s Galra to team up, uniting the two races in a way that hasn’t happened in 10,000 years. (Giving greater purpose to Allura and Lotor having feelings for each other and becoming co-leaders to their united people.)

And that’s how all these things could happen in one universe.

(Sorry there was quite a few other plot points I didn’t touch on such as Lotor’s generals, Rombelle and many others but this is long enough as it is.)

[like-a-bag-of-potatoes]

Chapter One - Hello Chicago

A/N: So this is my first crack at Chicago fire fanfiction, so don't judge too hard, alright? This will unfold from the beginning of season three, so if you haven't watched it yet, but plan to; SPOILER ALERT! I tried to follow along with the storyline of the show, but some things have been changed. Shout out to my superawesome beta @thorne93​, you rock! 

Fandom: Chicago Fire

Pairing: Kelly Severide x Beth (OFC) 

Warnings: None. 

Wordcount: 2975

Three weeks ago: 

It was a beautiful summer day in Chicago, the sun was high in the sky while a warm breeze fanned the air, providing some much needed relief from the scorching sun. Beth had just moved into a cozy little apartment on West Wolcott, a seemingly friendly neighbourhood that she hadn't really had the time to explore yet. One thing she had noticed though, was the little bar on the corner, Molly’s. It reminded her of the last place she worked at back in New York before she picked up her life and headed for the windy city. On this particular day, she saw a ‘help wanted’ sign on the bulletin board outside, and without thinking twice, she climbed the three steps and walked inside. A little bell above the intricate mahogany door chimed, and before it even closed behind her, three confused faces looked up at her from a table near the bar. 

“Sorry, we’re closed,” the woman in the group said, offering Beth a friendly smile as she did. 

“Oh…” Beth started, looking between the three of them. The woman was a beautiful latina, around Beth's age, with a kind smile. One of the men, the older one of them, looked like he was in his mid forties maybe, and the other one was around Beth's age, maybe a couple years younger. He had big brown puppy dog eyes and a thick mustache.  “I just saw the help wanted sign outside, and figured I'd see if you had an application I could fill out,” she explained. “But I can come back later,” she suggested when there was no answer. It felt as though she had walked into something here. She didn't know them, but it seemed as if there was a sadness behind their smiles. 

“Nonsense,” the older man exclaimed, getting to his feet. “Come sit down.” 

Beth put down her groceries at the door and went to join them. 

“I'm Christopher Herrmann,” he introduced, shaking Beth's hand. “That's Gabriella Dawson-” Beth shook her hand too. “And this here is Otis,” he said, patting the guy's shoulder. 

“Brian,” the younger man corrected. 

“Nice to meet you all. I'm Beth Andrews.” 

“So you’re looking for a job?” Gabriella wondered. 

“Yeah. I just moved in down the street last week, and I saw the sign upfront today,” she explained. 

“You have any experience, kid?” Herrmann asked in a very prominent Chicago accent. 

“I do. Spent the last ten years working as a bartender in New York. Two different nightclubs for about five years and then nearly five year's at a neighbourhood bar like this,” she explained. “Then I moved here. I have references,” she added.

“Any other work experience?” he wondered. 

“Yeah. I was a paramedic with the New York Firedepartment for eight years. We were on 24 hours and off for 48, so it was easy enough to combine with other jobs.” 

The three of them shared an amused look and Beth wondered if she had said something wrong. 

“We all work for the CFD at house 51 here in town. Gabby is a paramedic, Herrmann and I are on truck,” Otis explained, and Beth chuckled at the coincidence.

“Paramedic for now,” Gabby corrected. “I've graduated from the academy, and hope to start fighting fires soon.” 

“Really? Congrats,” Beth offered. 

“Thank you,” Gabby said with a wide smile. “Are you looking to be a paramedic here in Chicago too, or?” 

“Not really, no. I got injured on the job and the more time passed, the harder it was to get back to it. I made a real effort about three months ago, but the job had changed for me,” Beth tried to explain, hoping that a fellow paramedic would understand. 

“Alright,” Herrmann dragged. “So why Chicago?” 

“Heard you guys were hiring. Couldn't let that opportunity slip through my fingers,” Beth joked with a coy smile, looking between the three of them. 

Gabby looked at the other two and nodded before looking back at Beth. “Welcome to Molly’s.” 

“Really?” Beth exclaimed. 

“Yep,” Herrmann confirmed. “Be here at five and we’ll get you settled in.” 

***

And that was how Beth landed her job at Molly’s. A job that she absolutely loved. Never had she imagined that a simple bartender job would come with such a wide network of people and friends, but Molly’s had that family vibe to it. It was a place where firefighters, police officers, and doctors came to hang their hat and try to find a good end to an otherwise shitty day at work, or a place to celebrate the good days. She found many acquaintances during her first three weeks, but also some good friends… like Gabby. 

After Beth had Gabriella and her fiancee - who was a lieutenant at firehouse 51 - Matt Casey over for dinner, Gabby had convinced her to come to the house and cook for them all, which she gladly did. One thing she had learned through her year's working at NYFD was that the fastest way to a firefighter’s heart was through their stomachs. 

Firehouse 51 was still mourning the loss of one of their paramedics, Leslie Shay, who had died on the job just a few weeks before Beth rolled into town. Her death still cast a shadow over the place, but they were all trying to get back to normal. A normal that would be hard to find before the lieutenant of Squad 3 came back from his furlough. Kelly Severide had been Shay’s best friend, and the one that took her death the hardest. No one had seen or heard from him since Shay’s funeral, and they were all starting to wonder if he would ever return to the station at all. 

Beth hoped that a good meal would help cheer them up a bit, even if it was just for a little while. 

“This smells amazing, Beth,” Cruz complimented as he hovered over her in the kitchen. “Where did you learn to cook?” 

“Yeah… Tell them the story,” Gabby said with a chuckle, not looking up from the magazine she was flipping through. 

“Alright,” Beth dragged, very aware that all eyes were on her all of a sudden. “I was dating this guy back when I was nineteen. He was a really nice guy, but I didn't really see it lasting very long, so when Valentine’s rolled around I didn't want to splurge on a big fancy gift for him. So I got him a pen,” she started explaining. 

“You gave a guy a pen for valentines day?” Cruz asked with raised brows. 

“Yeah - well- he was studying journalism and I had it engraved.. It was a nice pen, kay? My point is I wasn't too invested in the relationship at this point.” 

“As evidenced by the pen,” Otis chimed in, earning himself a bitchface from Beth. 

“But it seemed as though he was in a different place then I was at that time, so he gave me a gift certificate for cooking classes, worth about 500 dollars.” 

A round of ‘aww’s’ went around the room followed by Gabby’s “Wait for it.” 

“For about two seconds I felt really shitty about the 14 dollar pen I had gotten him, so I started telling him that I couldn't accept his gift. That it was too much.. Too generous. He shut me down and told me it was an investment in our future and that - and I quote - he saw real potential in me, but if we were to start a family, he needed to know that I would be able to cook for them.” 

Now there was a mixture of ‘eww’s’ and ‘oh, noes,’ going through the room. 

“So I took the gift certificate and left. Then I spent 6 weeks learning to cook all these delicious meals that he will never get to taste,” she concluded. 

“Good for you, Beth,” Sylvie complimented. She was the newest member of the firehouse, filling Shay’s position after she died. Sylvie was a small town girl that had this sort of careful nature to her. She was very sweet though. Beth liked her a lot. 

“I don't get it,” Cruz said with a puzzled look on his face. “He was planning a future with you, isn't that nice?” Coming from anyone else, this comment would probably piss Beth off, but she knew him, and knew that he didn't really mean anything by it. 

“He wasn't planning a future with me, he was planning my future for me,” Beth explained. “Look… being a stay at home mom is tough work, and I admire the shit out of those who do it, but at that point I had my own aspirations and goals for my future. It was pretty clear to me that even though he knew all of this, he didn't care as long as he got the family he pictured in his mind.” 

“Oh… well… when you put it like that,” Cruz said, an apologetic look on his face. 

“It's alright,” Beth assured before she announced to everyone that dinner was ready, and for all of them to dig in. 

***

Dinner had been a huge success and she left the house with an open invitation to come back whenever to cook for them, which was their way of telling her that she had been accepted into their little family. 

Now she was back behind the bar at Molly’s, which was easily her favorite place in the world right now. Lieutenant Casey had finally been able to track down and convince Lieutenant Severide to come back to Chicago, and they had all decided to throw him a little welcome home party at Molly’s.

Gabby had already been in Beth’s ear about Kelly Severide, warning her that he was a bit of a ladies man, but Beth assured her that she wasn't interested. She was excited to meet him though, besides being a ladies man, Beth had heard a lot of great things about him. 

There was a good crowd already at the bar when Kelly finally showed up. The first thing that Beth noticed was that the pictures of him at the station didn't really do him justice. However, it wasn't the ocean blue eyes, or the plump lips, or even the broad shoulders. It was the way he carried himself. Standing tall and confident in his shoes as he was welcomed into the bar with cheers and pats on the back. There were few things more attractive in a man than confidence, Beth thought to herself, but there was a really fine line between confidence and arrogance, and from where she was standing it looked as though he was on the right side of that line. There was something else that she noticed about him, something that saddened her in some inexplicable way. As soon as the charming smile fell from his lips, his expression hardened. Not in an angry or mean looking way, but more… stoic. Like a man carrying around a pain inside of him that he didn't want anyone to see. Like he was trying to hide his vulnerability by appearing unapproachable.

Beth knew that underneath all that, there was a good man. Of course she hadn't met the man yet, but she knew that from the way people spoke about him. 

He didn't take a seat at the bar, instead he wedged himself in between two stools and leaned against the counter.   

“This is Beth, Molly’s new bartender,” Gabby said and Beth reached over the bar to shake his hand. 

“Kelly,” he said, his piercing blue eyes tracking her features. “Nice to meet you.” The hardness of his face melted away as he smiled politely at her, revealing a little gap between his front teeth. It was as though she caught a little glimpse of who he was behind the hard exterior. It was just a flash, a fraction of a second, and then it was gone again.   

“You too,” she offered. “What can I get you?” 

“Whiskey,” he said simply before he got roped into a conversation with Chief Boden and Casey. 

Beth did her best not to stare at the man, but throughout the night she caught herself looking for him, letting her eyes linger whenever they found him while her mind wondered who this man was underneath. Already then she knew she was in trouble 

“I knew it,” Gabby said suddenly into her ear. Beth hadn't even seen her approaching. 

“What?” she asked, pretending she had no clue what Gabby was on about. “I'm allowed to look,” she defended when her friend sent her a knowing look. 

“You’re allowed to do whatever you want to do,” Gabby said with a coy smile. “Just know what you’re getting yourself into.” 

“I'm not gonna get myself into anything,” Beth assured.

“Mhm… Anyway, Matt and I are going to head home. You okay to lock up?” Gabby asked. 

The bar was mostly empty now. Just Severide, Cruz, and Otis remained. “Absolutely,” Beth assured. She said goodnight to her friend and then made her way over to the three men. “Last call, boys. What can I get you?” 

The level of inebriation around the table was pretty darn high, but considering this was last call and they would be out soon, Beth didn't worry about it too much. As per their request, she grabbed them each a beer and then made her way back behind the bar to start getting ready to close up. 

“Hey, Beth,” Kelly suddenly called out, making her spin around. “Come have a drink with us,” he lightly demanded. 

She mulled it over for a second before she poured herself a glass of ice water and went to join them. 

“What's this?” Kelly asked, pointing to her glass with furrowed brows. 

“Water,” she stated simply. 

“You don't drink?” he asked, looking into her blue eyes. 

“Not at work.” Holy shit was he gorgeous, she thought to herself as she pried her eyes off of the freckles that peppered his nose. She hadn't noticed them earlier, but now that she was so close to him, she could clearly see them. She could still feel his eyes on her when she looked away, but she did her best to ignore the warm feeling that settled in her body under his gaze. 

“How are you liking Chicago so far?” Cruz asked. 

“It's good,” she said with a bob of her head. “Your pizza sucks though,” she added as an afterthought. 

“Oh come on,” Otis exclaimed. “Chicago style beats New York style every day of the week,” he argued, getting support from the other two. 

“Uhm.. no. Deep dish pizza tastes like tomato sauce and dough, and nothing more. New York style has the perfect toppings to cheese ratio on a crunchy crust. It's perfection.” 

“You’re wrong,” Cruz chimed in. “The thin crust does not support enough toppings. It's structurally unsound.” He gestured as he spoke, as if he was caught in a heated debate about the state of the world or something. 

That spiraled into a half an hour long argument about pizza and toppings, ending only when Beth said that she would prove them all wrong by coming into the fire house and cooking them some real pizza. This was met with much enthusiasm. 

“Alright, boys. Time to get out so I can close up,” she announced after checking the time. 

“You throwing me out of my own bar?” Otis asked as they all got to their feet. 

“Damn straight,” she said with a smile, trying to ignore the looks she got from the very handsome lieutenant.

“This because of the pizza thing?” 

“Absolutely,” she confirmed with a playful smile. 

“Never argue with the bartender,” Kelly noted. 

“Exactly,” Beth agreed. “Now get out so I can get home,” she ordered. 

The three men were still outside waiting for a cab when Beth locked the door behind her. From what she could tell, Kelly was trying to rope the other two into continuing the evening somewhere else, without much luck it seemed like. She felt for him, she really did. Being alone with your thoughts after losing a loved one was hard, she remembered all too vividly what that was like. 

“What about you?” he said, looking at Beth. “Wanna come have some drinks with me?” 

“Not even a little bit,” she said. It was a lie. She would very much like to go with him, but she knew how that would end, and tempting as it was, it wasn't really an option. “I'm gonna go home and slip into a light coma.” It seemed as though her answer surprised him, and she got the impression that he wasn't really used to getting turned down. 

“Can I walk you home then? Can be scary out here at this time of night,” he tried. 

“My apartment is right there-” she pointed a few houses down - “I'm sure I'll make it home before your cab gets here, so you guys can just keep an eye on me from here.” 

Cruz and Otis kept their eyes to the ground, trying to not get roped into this awkward interaction. They mumbled a goodnight as Beth left them, trying to hide their smiles from the lieutenant. 

“What just happened?” Kelly asked with a confused expression on his face. 

“You just got shut down, bro,” Cruz explained. 

“Twice,” Otis added, making the two of them laugh. 

Kelly watched as Beth made her way to her building, and just as the cab pulled up, she unlocked her door. He raised his hand and gave her a small wave before he got into the backseat of the car. For a while, he had the image of her bright smile, and big eyes in his mind, but soon enough she was replaced by Shay, and grief overtook him once again. 

If you want a tag, just shoot me an ASK and we’ll make that happen. 

If you like what you read, press that little reblog button, maybe leave me a little comment. Feedback is a great source of inspiration for me. 

[holly-benji]

9X02 BRETTSEY REVIEW

Here I am today talking about my impressions of the 9x02 episode of Chicago fire. Ready? First of all let me tell you that: 1. English is not my first language, so forgive me some grammatical errors. 2. I have written a lot (maybe too much) so I hope you have the patience to get to the end. 3. It is not a post against Monica Raymund or Gabby Dawson. Just some of my considerations about it. I do not want to start any war.

Let us begin! I will try to analyze what happened for the different phases that followed during the episode

RESCUE SCENE:

I start by saying that Sylvie Brett is really badass. She's really grown up and I think it's going to be a real PIC for Mackey.

Moving on to Casey: "61 respond. Do YOU hear me?". I think that YOU has a great value for him. I think this phrase encapsulates all of Casey's concern about losing Brett. The face he makes immediately afterwards when no one answers on the radio is discouraging. And when he asks Stella "we should have seen them by now", he is looking for some support in Kidd (of the series tell me that nothing serious happened Stella please).

When Casey sees the wreckage of the ambulance he can’t wait to know if Sylvie is ok. First of all, for him is not ambulance 61, but Brett's ambulance. The difference is substantial. 

"Let me out". This scene is beautiful. Fortunately, after jumping out of a moving truck, Brett has already gotten out of the ambulance.

When Casey sees her, apart from screaming her name, he doesn't just ask her if she is okay. He looks at her everywhere, as if to see to himself that she is in one piece. Even afterwards he suggests to her to go to the hospital and when she refuses, he takes her to the truck to take her to the firehouse. With him. Brett's gaze is the mixture of being confused about the accident, and why Casey is there.

When Sylvie wants to save the crazy guy, he yells "Sylvie wait!". And then together they do what they do best. Saving lives.

IT HAS ALWAYS BEEN YOU

Of course Casey has to reach Brett to ask her once again if she is okay and tell her that he is glad if she is ok. What big scare did he get? But strangely enough when Brett asks him how he got there so quickly and why it was only him, he omits a few details in the reconstruction of how things went. Brett KNOWS him so the "it always been you" comes out of her. Remember that THE ONE she's been looking for for a long time, and she talks to Matt about in the 8x07 episode? She finally realized it was him all along. From the beginning of everything. And when she realizes that she practically told him that the key to everything is him, she tries to make up for the blunder she just made. In fact she says "such a good friend". Casey is amazed by this sentence, and wants to understand what else is underneath (because it can actually be sibylline), but is interrupted by Capp for the report.

SYLVIE AND STELLA

So Brett is in love with Casey. But she can't tell him. She doesn't want to tell him.

Let's make a brief summary of what happened between Brett and Casey from Sylvie's point of view. Gabby's departure marked a turning point for both of them. I think for both of them it was just a simple friendship at least until the episode 7x16. When Casey was almost shot with a gun. The two of them started talking more and more and became confidants of each other. Brett's feelings I think were initially seen in the 7x21 even if at the time as a simple attraction. She has been trying to suppress them ever since. It was said that they were not right. So she got engaged to Kyle and tried to carry on a meaningless relationship. In fact, not only did she want to suppress what she felt, she WAS CERTAIN that Casey would not have seen her any other way than as a friend and the 7x22 gave her confirmation. Casey involuntarily pushed her into the arms of another. After her return in the 8x03, Casey and Brett bonded more and more. And every time someone saw the chemistry that the two of them shared, she diminished. She did it with Olivia, Foster, Kidd and even Julie. Things changed in the 8x17 when Sylvie seriously started working on her feelings. In any case she became more and more convinced that the feelings she felt were not reciprocated, and mostly WRONG. He was still her best friend's ex, and she knew that he would not easily forget Dawson.

So when talking to Stella in this 9x02 SYLVIE DOES NOT WANT TO SPEAK TO CASEY BECAUSE IT IS SURE THAT HE IS NOT IN LOVE WITH HER, BUT THAT HE IS  IN LOVE WITH DAWSON. So she thinks the solution is to pretend this conversation never happened.

CASEY ASKS HER OUT, IN HIS OWN WAY

Casey wants to understand better the exchange of jokes that there have been between them in the dormitory. And on top of that he wants to ask her to get out of the 7x22, so I think it was the right time to do it considering that he could have lost her. The way he asks her out is very funny. How he claps and waves his hands. I HAVE NEVER SEEN THIS SIDE OF CASEY. The faces of Hermann and Mouch say it all.

THE DATE AT MOLLY’S

The way Casey gets up when he sees her and asks her if he can offer her something to drink, it makes me laugh my head off. He's in serious trouble: he doesn't know how to handle it.

Here the evening takes a completely unexpected turn. Gallo does what he should not do. He explains everything that happened at the beginning of the episode and Brett FOR THE FIRST TIME questions Casey's feelings. She asks herself "maybe he feels something for me?". The answer is clearly yes. Just look at their exchange of glances. One feels too much between the two of them. In any case, Dawson's shadow always makes itself felt in her head, and moreover she would like to kiss him but she can't because of a ban she has imposed herself. So she runs away. She is afraid.

The way Casey gets up is so sweet. He still doesn't understand what's wrong. But he knows there's something he did that Brett didn't take well.

AVOID CASEY

When the shift starts Casey tries to say goodbye to her, but she doesn't answer. On the contrary, she runs inside the firehouse. And the same thing happens when they are reassembling the ambulance door. Severide's words are prophetic. Sylvie avoids Casey because on the one hand she wants to kiss him, and on the other hand she is afraid that she will not be able to take Gabby's place and that there is no game for her. There will always be Dawson in first place. Casey realizes once again that something is wrong (he still can't figure out what it is though). But his look says it all, and Severide notices it too. And it gives him the best suggestion. UNDERSTAND WHAT THAT LOOK MEANS.

I would like to point out that Stella, Severide, Mouch, Hermann, Gallo, Capp and Tony all saw the connection that brettsey have. The whole firehouse know. Even Tony who speaks very little says for the first time his own ("we don't know what happened").

THE KISS

First of all I find it beautiful that Casey went to ask for explanations. Their "talk to me" is the key to everything. They have always confided in each other, and have done so very much in these two years (7x02 and 8x16 for example). Tell each other what's wrong is the basis of a solid relationship. Sylvie then reveals the reason and kisses him. She makes the first move. And I found it fantastic. Clearly Matt gives in immediately. I want to point out that during the kiss they smiled, even with their eyes. Their happiness could be felt in the air along with their sweetness. It was beautiful and I loved it as all the time there was delicacy. I don't think we need other words to describe it. And they both wanted it for a long time. At least from 7x21. What patience.

THE PROBLEM: GABBY DAWSON

Let us now analyze the Gabby Dawson problem. As I have already widely explained Sylvie is afraid because she could take a place that is complicated to replace at best. She fears the confrontation with the one and only woman she thinks Casey has loved and will love. So she decides to clarify this issue with him right away, and I find it an extremely mature attitude. I want to emphasize that until now Brett has had messed up stories, broken engagements, so now she is looking for THE ONE. She finally found him, but there is the Dawson problem. Let's remember that in the 8x09 Dawson came back and Matt ended up back in bed with her. Can you build something serious and lasting with a person who as soon as the ex returns there is a risk that he will end up in her bed? That's what Brett is afraid of. Maybe for him it's just a desire to have sex, while for Sylvie it's trying to make the choices to start a family. Let's try to unravel the skein, and clarify some of my points of view.

I loved the Dawseys, very much. I found them beautiful. Their story was all passion, and I loved it. Gabby was a tough girl, Casey was a good guy and I liked them a lot. Then at a certain point (maybe due to the problem of becoming parents), each of them started to take a different path, in fact to be precise Gabby did. Matt and Dawson communicated very little, especially in recent times, and the important decisions were ALWAYS AND ONLY HERS. She confronted Matt at the end, when the decision had already been made. I've always admired Dawson's resolution, but in some attitudes I found it exaggerated. The choice to try to have more children even with a pregnancy at risk ONLY HERS, the choice to move to Puerto Rico? ONLY HERS AND OVERALL IS THE ONE THAT LEAVES CASEY, THE ONE THAT SENDS PAPERS FOR DIVORCE. SHE RETURNS, THEN SHE LEAVES. The one that says if you want, there is always a place in my tent. 

Until now the decisions have been unilateral. Casey tries in his own way to make a new life for himself. He succeeds very hard. Initially he has a flirt with the journalist, then a flirt with the smart girl who interrupts immediately, and then from 8x03 let's say that his feelings for Brett, already present in my opinion from 7x19 at least ARE ALWAYS GROWN. 

But why when Sylvie asks, he doesn’t respond: “I love you”? Simple, he hasn't understood it yet. Let's understand each other. Matt can't explain how he feels about Sylvie because he has never felt it before. He has these strong feelings, totally new. Here, in addition to a strong passionate component (which the Dawseys certainly did not lack) there is a strong mental component that makes all the difference. Brett and Casey have very similar characters, something that certainly could not be said with Dawson and have created a deep friendship. Basically speak his actions for him. Jumping out of a truck, asking her nervously if she wants to go out with him. These are all attitudes that have not been seen in Matt Casey before. They are attitudes of a person who is in love. His not being able to answer is dictated by the fact that he has never faced the problem. He has never closed the door with Gabby and he has always left a gap, at first very big, that he believes that that is still open, but which actually lacks a small push to close it permanently. 

In essence Matt has to close definitively with the past and with all the drama that the relationship with Dawson has left. For example one of these is the problem of being rejected. This explains his nervousness towards Sylvie. He is not giving up completely. So Matt has to work on his emotions and he can't answer because he never asked himself the question. He took it for granted that he had moved on, but he hadn't put an end to it. I'm sure he will. Because he has to make his mind understand what his heart has already understood long ago. It must work on himselt and let off steam, talk to someone. These feelings for Brett have always been kept to himself. He has to shout it to the world instead.

Fortunately Matt and Sylvie are friend before lovers. They have built a strong foundation, and they are still communicating. I’m sure they will find their way back to each other.

I hope you enjoy my “review”. Let me know if there is something you want to add, or if you think I’m wrong. I’d like to chat with you, so write me!

Love you all, and always ship Brettsey!

I would also ask @hamburgerheroes if she wants to participate in the next reviews with her fantastic GIFs, and maybe alternate in the work if you like to comment together also the next episodes. Let me know.