#actually i could i've been keeping counts of the number of times i've seen the three movies but anyway

[trainsinanime]

I've seen a number of people worried and concerned about this language on Ao3s current "agree to these terms of service" page. The short version is:

Don't worry. This isn't anything bad. Checking that box just means you forgive them for being US American.

Long version: This text makes perfect sense if you're familiar with the issues around GDPR and in particular the uncertainty about Privacy Shield and SCCs after Schrems II. But I suspect most people aren't, so let's get into it, with the caveat that this is a Eurocentric (and in particular EU centric) view of this.

The basic outline is that Europeans in the EU have a right to privacy under the EU's General Data Protection Regulation (GDPR), an EU directive (let's simplify things and call it an EU law) that regulates how various entities, including companies and the government, may acquire, store and process data about you.

The list of what counts as data about you is enormous. It includes things like your name and birthday, but also your email address, your computers IP address, user names, whatever. If an advertiser could want it, it's on the list.

The general rule is that they can't, unless you give explicit permission, or it's for one of a number of enumerated reasons (not all of which are as clear as would be desirable, but that's another topic). You have a right to request a copy of the data, you have a right to force them to delete their data and so on. It's not quite on the level of constitutional rights, but it is a pretty big deal.

In contrast, the US, home of most of the world's internet companies, has no such right at a federal level. If someone has your data, it is fundamentally theirs. American police, FBI, CIA and so on also have far more rights to request your data than the ones in Europe.

So how can an American website provide services to persons in the EU? Well… Honestly, there's an argument to be made that they can't.

US websites can promise in their terms and conditions that they will keep your data as safe as a European site would. In fact, they have to, unless they start specifically excluding Europeans. The EU even provides Standard Contract Clauses (SCCs) that they can use for this.

However, e.g. Facebook's T&Cs can't bind the US government. Facebook can't promise that it'll keep your data as secure as it is in the EU even if they wanted to (which they absolutely don't), because the US government can get to it easily, and EU citizens can't even sue the US government over it.

Despite the importance that US companies have in Europe, this is not a theoretical concern at all. There have been two successive international agreements between the US and the EU about this, and both were struck down by the EU court as being in violation of EU law, in the Schrems I and Schrems II decisions (named after Max Schrems, an Austrian privacy activist who sued in both cases).

A third international agreement is currently being prepared, and in the meantime the previous agreement (known as "Privacy Shield") remains tentatively in place. The problem is that the US government does not want to offer EU citizens equivalent protection as they have under EU law; they don't even want to offer US citizens these protections. They just love spying on foreigners too much. The previous agreements tried to hide that under flowery language, but couldn't actually solve it. It's unclear and in my opinion unlikely that they'll manage to get a version that survives judicial review this time. Max Schrems is waiting.

So what is a site like Ao3 to do? They're arguably not part of the problem, Max Schrems keeps suing Meta, not the OTW, but they are subject to the rules because they process stuff like your email address.

Their solution is this checkbox. You agree that they can process your data even though they're in the US, and they can't guarantee you that the US government won't spy on you in ways that would be illegal for the government of e.g. Belgium. Is that legal under EU law? …probably as legal as fan fiction in general, I suppose, which is to say let's hope nobody sues to try and find out.

But what's important is that nothing changed, just the language. Ao3 has always stored your user name and email address on servers in the US, subject to whatever the FBI, CIA, NSA and FRA may want to do it. They're just making it more clear now.

[dwaekkicidal]

"Heats" with Puppy!Seungmin

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: Day 4 of my Bboki-Dwae collab with @bbokicidal <3

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: ~800

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: fem!reader, lots of marking (bites+hickeys), spanking, rough sex mentions, light(?) manhandling, breeding, some cumplay, like 1 overstim mention, i mightve missed one

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: wish i could have made this longer but i've been so busy :((

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

❥ Jealous. Jealous. Jealous. J e a l o u s.

❥ These mating season fits tend to get him very aggressive and standoffish. To everyone.

❥ One simple glance at you from any person in the vicinity will send him into a fit of rage. But, thankfully for you, he doesn’t act on this in public! That’s saved for the bedroom, where you’re held down in his favorite position- downward doggy, for hours at a time.

❥ Does not care about any excuses anybody has to give. The second he notices that somebody is too close to you or even “looking at you for too long”, you’re getting dragged home to be shown your place

❥ Expect to be absolutely covered in bite marks and hickeys, ones that he “tries” to keep in spots where they won’t be seen. But, let's be real... We all know he gets a hard-on and a huge ego boost when they’re in obvious places and you just so happen to be out in public

❥ Looooves to leave deep bite marks on your neck and shoulders (some may or may not even have little holes from where his sharp canines dig into your skin hehe)

❥ He loses his mind when he sees these marks on your tummy and thighs from the prior night, him having completely forgotten that he even left them. Obviously, nobody will see them. But knowing that you’re fully marked up in the “most important” areas will get him instantly ready to go again

❥ Usually will be very apologetic about the bites that have wounds from his teeth but, if he’s particularly aggravated, he will start doing it on purpose.

❥ He gets real mean when he’s like that; a deep frown on his face and a low growl bubbling up in his throat as he pins you to the bed and berates you over things you had no control over. You both know that, but that won’t stop him from using it to fuck you nice and rough. And it surely won’t stop you from enjoying each and every time his hips slam into yours.

❥ Has such an obnoxious knot!!!!! You can’t tell if it’s all in your head, but when he’s extra cranky and giving in to his instincts to breed you, his knot feels like it's double the size.

❥ And he’s always so mean about it :( he’s a little shit and likes to tug his hips away from yours right after his knot fully expands, testing the limits of how far it will actually plug you (spoiler: it does not come out)

❥ If he’s rather eager, his knot can last up to half an hour. Which, may or may not be to your demise, usually ends in him reaching over into your nightstand, grabbing his favorite toy so he can overstimulate you out of boredom while you cockwarm him <3

❥ Breeds you until your stomach hurts from the number of times he’s came deep inside <3 Tells you that it better take or else he’ll just have to fuck you over and over and over again, which leads to you drooling from overstimulation and dripping cum all over the sheets

❥ Surprisingly he’s not one to get upset about you “wasting” his seed. In fact, it’s the only mess that he actually likes.

❥ To the point where he will pull out after knotting you just to sit there, tapping his dick on your messy folds with a big dopey smile on his face

❥ Absolutely loves the wet plap noises your cunt makes when he slaps his cock against you. So much so that it’s subconscious as he keeps himself occupied during downtime, usually the few minutes you get between rounds before he’s re-entering you, ready to breed you again and again.

❥ Is big on wrapping a hand around your neck, be it on your nape or on the front of your neck, and holding you down. It lets him force you to take everything he has to give while limiting how much you wiggle around

❥ Pairs this with stinging slaps to your ass cheeks, and a comment about how you’re his and how nobody else will ever have you like this, in order to get your pretty pussy even wetter around him

“I should fuck a litter into you. Then maybe people will stop fucking looking at what’s mine.”

“You’re gonna be such a hot mother for my pups. Shit- Gonna keep you nice and full of my offspring.”

“Stop fucking moving, I need to mark you.”

“Take this fucking knot, puppy. Yeah? Fuck yeah~”

“Such a pretty pussy. All nice n’ messy from my cum.” As he rubs his tip through your folds, sometimes poking your clit to watch you shake ><

“I have to keep us entertained until my knot goes down, so you’ll let me play with you a bit- right, Jagi?”

Taglist:

@valkyriexo @lunearta @jabmastersupriseee @rylea08

@yaorzu-blog @amararosesblog @jiminssluttyminx @clemissleepy

@miss-daisy04 @kittyxnoa @dwaekkiiracha @bubblerizz

@mariteez

[sissylittlefeather]

I'm sorry this took me a million years to write @sloppiest-of-jos! Anyway, I hope it lives up to what you were wanting!

Searching for You

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, kissing, cussing, p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, and touch of angst

Word count: ~2.5k

"Elvis, you have a WIFE and a CHILD. Tell me again how you think this could possibly work out?!" Elvis sits in a chair, watching you pace around the room from behind his silver sunglasses.

"Honey, I've told you and told you. Those are my problems, not yours. I love you. I want you." He stands up and walks over to you, taking your hand gently and rubbing small circles on the back of it with his thumb. You look up at him and almost melt. Then, you yank your hand away and walk across the room.

"No! This has gone on for way too long." Memories of how you met on the set of the Singer special in '68 come screaming back to you. You think about him noticing you, a humble back up dancer for the bordello scene. He had walked straight to you and asked your name, not even bothering to pretend like he didn't like you. You'd seen him with the other girls and couldn't believe he was actually talking to you. But something about you caught his attention and he wasn't letting you get away. He invited you up to his dressing room after filming was finished and it didn't take long at all for you to end up naked on the couch, squirming as he brought you pleasure you had only ever dreamed about.

That was two years ago.

No matter how hard the two of you tried, you couldn't stay away from each other. The space between you was electric and you made ways to be together as often as possible, despite his marital status and your guilt. You fell hard and fast for him and he insisted he felt the same way, but he never entertained the possibility of ending his marriage.

On this particular occasion, you pace the floor half-dressed insisting this will be the last time. You're leaving California, removing yourself from the equation, and he is not pleased. Once you pull on the rest of your clothes, you point your shoe at him and yell.

"I'm done, Elvis. I'm done with being your back up girl to keep you company when your wife is gone. It hurts too much."

"Honey, it's not like that! You're the one I want! If anything, she's the back up girl."

"Then why won't you leave her?"

"I-I I can't."

"Yeah." You stuff your shoes on your feet and head for the door. "Goodbye, Elvis."

This isn't the first time you've had this argument, by far, but what Elvis doesn't know is that this time you're really leaving. You pack up all your things with tears streaming down your cheeks and head for home. The drive is long, but you've hit the end of your capacity for loving Elvis like this. You wonder how long it'll take him to figure out you're gone. Will he even care?

******

Elvis gives you two weeks to get over this most recent fight, sure that all he has to do is call you when Priscilla goes out of town. But when he does, your phone's been cut off. He hangs up and looks at the receiver in confusion. Surely you didn't actually leave.

He gets in his car and drives to your apartment. Maybe you've just changed your number and he needs to appeal to you in person. But when he knocks on your door, a man he doesn't recognize answers. He gets over his initial wave of jealousy and asks about you.

"Uh, I'm looking for y/n?"

"No one here by that name. Wait are you-?"

"Thanks." Elvis turns and walks quickly back to his car before the guy can ask him for anything.

When he gets back to his house, he calls all of his Memphis mafia into the living room and gives them an assignment. They need to find you and he wants it done yesterday. The guys all look at each other in mild panic and then head out to see what they can do while Elvis sits on the couch smoking a cigarillo trying to process his shock. You're really gone. Where on earth did you go?

******

After a week of Elvis wracking his brain and the guys bribing neighbors and friends, Sonny finally has a breakthrough.

"I was able to get ahold of her best friend at work."

"Yeah, and?"

"She went home to Kentucky."

"Home to Kentucky. Where in Kentucky?"

"She didn't know, but she said she knew it wasn't far from Nashville." Elvis rolls his eyes.

"What the hell does that even mean?! There are a lot of places in Kentucky that aren't far from Nashville. How does she define far?" Sonny looks at the ground and shakes his head.

"I don't know, boss. That's all she knew."

"Goddamnit." Elvis kicks the nearest table and Sonny looks at him hard.

"Might be time to give up on this one." Elvis meets his eyes with his eyebrows raised and then shakes his head.

"No. She's... no." He turns and heads for his bedroom. When he comes back with a suitcase, Sonny tries to stop him.

"Where you goin'?"

"Well, I guess I'm going somewhere in Kentucky that's not far from Nashville."

"You're really gonna go after her then?"

"Yes." Elvis gets in his car and starts on the road East towards Kentucky and you.

******

When Elvis finally makes it to Kentucky, he drives from small town to small town looking for you. He has a picture of you that he took one night that he shows to people. He has lots of pictures of you, but this is the only one appropriate for public consumption. He thanks God that he thought to take one with your clothes on one time. Honestly, it's his favorite photo of you because it's so naturally beautiful, your smile gentle and your hair a little messy from lovemaking.

The more he looks for you, the more it becomes apparent how much he loves you. He's been saying it for a while, but the emptiness he experiences at not knowing how to find you makes him know exactly how true it is. He loves you so much that he's driving around Kentucky just to find you again. How did he think he could give you up?

He's starting to lose hope when he comes across a preacher in a small town called Franklin. Exhausted and hopeless, he shows him the picture of you.

"That's y/n!"

"Yes!" Elvis looks up, shocked. "Do you know her?"

"Of course I do. I baptized her, didn't I?" Elvis laughs and hugs the man.

"Is she here? Where can I find her?"

"I haven't seen her in a long time, but if she's in town, she'll be at her parents' house." He gives Elvis the address just as it begins to rain. For the first time in weeks, Elvis is filled with hope and he decides he'll do anything to get you back.

He pulls up in front of the address that the preacher gave him and his heart beats wildly. He's so close to being with you again. The steady rain soaks him to the bone and he knocks on your front door and waits for someone to open it.

You see him through the windows and panic. How the hell did he find you here?! You know you won't be able to resist him if he talks to you, so you run outside and jump in your car, backing out of the driveway quickly.

But he sees you and tries to run to the car.

"Honey, wait! I just wanna talk to ya!" You focus on the road ahead and step on the gas to get away. Elvis runs back to his car and jumps into the driver's seat, starting the engine and throwing it in drive. He tries to catch up to you, but you're driving like a crazy person. The rain is still coming down pretty hard and he starts to worry about you driving like this. As you head out of town, your car spins off the road into a ditch and he realizes he was right to be concerned. Thankfully, because of the spinning, you don't hit the ditch too hard. He parks and jumps out of the car to run to you. You manage to get the door open and stumble out.

That's when you feel strong arms around you. The familiarity of them makes you cry and you shake with sobs as he holds you. He stands there in the soft rain, stroking your hair and whispering to you.

"You're okay, honey. I've got you. You're okay." After several minutes of this, you pull away from him and yell.

"What are you doing here Elvis?!"

"I needed to see you."

"Why?!" He pushes a piece of rain-soaked hair behind your ear.

"Because I love you, baby." You look up at him, your eyes wide as the rain continues to fall on you both.

"No! I'm not falling into this with you again!"

"Honey, I drove across the country to find you. Is that not enough to prove that I'm serious?!"

"Where's your wife, Elvis?" He groans and pulls his wedding ring off of his finger.

"I don't care." He turns and throws the ring into the patch of trees and you gasp.

"Elvis, that was worth a lot of money!"

"Maybe, but I don't want it anymore. I don't want her anymore. I want you, ya stubborn brat."

"Why?" He rolls his eyes. His patience is wearing thin as the two of you stand in the cold rain together.

"Because I'm so in love with you I can't even think straight when you're not around."

"I don't believe you."

"Y/n! Do you know how many small towns I've been to in Kentucky looking for you?! I love you so much I can't even imagine my life without you." You contemplate what he's saying. This is a long road to travel for casual sex. Maybe he does love you as much as he says he does, but there's still too many complications.

"How, Elvis-?"

"I'm leaving Priscilla." Your heart stops. Is he serious? "I can't live another minute without you. You're all I think about from the moment I wake up until the moment I go to sleep. Honey, I will do anything to prove to you that I want you and no one else."

You look up at him, your heart so full of love for him that you feel like it might burst.

"You'd really do that? Leave your wife and the mother of your child. For me?"

"Yes. I should never have married her in the first place."

"Elvis..."

"All my life I've been searching for you. I just didn't know it. I should've waited. But I'm here now and I'm telling you. I love you more than life itself. Let me love you, honey."

And then you utter two syllables that will change your life forever.

"Okay." In the blink of an eye, he wraps himself around you, his mouth pressed to yours in a passionate kiss. He grabs the back of your thighs and lifts you so that your legs are around his waist, his lips never leaving yours. The rain has softened, so he carries you to the hood of his car and sets your bottom down. You've never kissed anyone with such fervor before. It's like you're trying to melt into one another with the way you press yourselves together. You arch your back as he rolls his hips forward into you, his erection pushing against you through his pants. He runs his hands up your thighs and pulls your panties down under your mini skirt. His thumb runs up your slit to the bundle of nerves at the top and he begins to rub circles there. You drop your head backwards and moan loudly. Without another thought, you unzip his pants and pull his cock out, stroking it slowly with your hand. He groans and kisses down your neck, while you pull him to you and run the tip of his dick up and down your entrance. He mutters against your lips.

"You're such a tease, honey."

"Yeah, but you love me."

"God, I really do. So fucking much." He thrusts his hips forward and pushes into you, almost filling you in one motion. You cry out with pleasure when he does and lean back against the car. He pulls out and thrusts forward again, grunting. This time his hips meet yours as his entire cock is inside you. He makes a sound that's somewhere between a whimper and a moan and begins to slide in and out of you, pounding you to the steady rhythm of the rain.

The sensation of him slamming against you is enough to push you over the edge and you tumble headfirst into an intense orgasm, moaning and writhing and pulsing around him.

"Fuck, honey, I love you." You pull him down on top of you and whisper in his ear.

"I love you too." It's the first time you've ever said it back to him. He whimpers and kisses down your neck to your cleavage, never changing his steady pace of pumping into you. You can tell by the way his thrusting becomes more erratic that he's getting close too.

Finally, he slams into you hard and shudders against you, filling you with ropes of cum. It's also the first time he's ever cum inside you: another indicator that he's serious about you.

The rain has slowed to a drizzle as he collapses on top of you, spent and breathing heavily. He slides out of you and stands up, pulling you into a sitting position on the hood of his car.

"Come home with me, honey." He kisses your cheek affectionately and then backs up to look you in the eye, his blues ones seeing straight through to your soul. You couldn't tell him no even if you wanted to.

"I gave up my apartment."

"I want you to live with me." You raise your eyebrows.

"You still have a wife."

"I won't for long. I'll buy us a house. Just please say you'll come home with me." You nod and lean your forehead against his chest.

"I'm yours, Elvis." He tips your chin up to look at him.

"And I'm yours." He kisses your lips tenderly. "Now come on. Let's get out of the rain."

He drives you back to your parents' house, where you both change into dry clothes and settle on the couch together. Surprisingly, he's perfectly comfortable there with your mom and dad. He stays for a few days with you, letting you give him the grand tour of your hometown. Eventually, you head back to California together. Your car is totaled, so he promises to buy you a new one once you get home.

He wastes no time in leaving Priscilla and starting divorce proceedings. In the meantime, he buys the two of you a cozy little love nest and you're perfectly happy there with him.

The Kentucky rain was a baptism of sorts and you both came out of it changed for the better. It's not always smooth sailing, he is Elvis Presley after all, but you're happy more often than not. You never run away again, though you know he'd chase you if you did. And every time it rains, he holds you close and you remember the cold Kentucky rain.

******

The End

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

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @atleastpleasetelephone @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia @jhoneybees @cattcb @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley

[il-miele-che-scrive]

lando norris x reader

based on this request (because I take requests and I have to make it everyone's business): Hi not sure if you take requests but in case you do could you write reader x lando where y/n is a celebrity or an influencer and she drops subtle hints at who is her new bf maybe some fun facts about him like "oh he hates fish and I'm making a lot of fish for christmas" and eventually the fans are like "guys it's totally lando"

words count: 2.5k + fans' tweets at the end

author's note: my first request and it was so fun to write 🥹 also added a hospital scene from the time of Vegas GP so we could experience a bit of protective Y/n and painkillers-high Lando (I forgot about a fish scene)

edit: I've just realized I've messed up the dates so let's pretend the award thingie was in '23 instead of '22

A secret boyfriend

It was a normal Tuesday of 2023 when Y/n Y/l/n and Lando Norris met. Well, not so normal since it was the day Y/n won the first award in her musical career, and Lando had his first debut as an award presenter.

"And the winner is..." He opened the envelope and flipped it, as he held it upside down. "Y/n Y/l/n."

Y/n couldn't believe it at first. She looked at her best friend with tears in her eyes. They hugged before Y/n stood up and got on her way to the scene, still questioning if she actually heard her name or was it her mind playing tricks on her.

"Thank you," Y/n sent Lando a smile as he handed her the award, "are you sure it's for me?" She joked, trying to mask the anxiety she felt from the fact that now she had to give a speech while everyone watched.

"Absolutely, it's all yours. Well deserved." Lando said feeling a bit starstruck from being so close to one of his favorite singers.

Just this one simple interaction was enough for both Y/n's and Lando's fanbases to raise suspicions. However, what was unavailable to the fans' eyes were Y/n and Lando's interaction at the after party. Later the same evening, he approached her.

"Hey, congratulations again." He said with a grin on his face. "Your music is amazing, I couldn't imagine you not winning this award."

"Stop with the compliments, I'm gonna blush." Y/n laughed. "Nice to meet you. Lando Norris, isn't it?"

"Yeah, do you watch Formula One?"

"I'm going to be honest from the beginning and admit I did not, but I did my research and I just might start being a fan."

"If you're ever down for hearing firsthand gossip straight from the track, I'm at your service."

"I'd love to hear all the gossip over a coffe sometime."

"Let me give you my number then and I'll arrange something."

And so a few days later they had a coffee date. The date marked the beginning of a carefully hidden romance. They wanted to keep it a secret from the public eye, not wanting people prying on them, trying to estimate how long they'll last.

Keeping the relationship secret somehow came easy to them. They were seen on the coffee date indeed, however they made sure to have the next dates in private. The fans on both sides were literally clueless to the whole ongoing romance. Y/n had her tour, Lando had his races and it wasn't even a little bit suspicious how a lot concerts aligned with race weekends.

Unfortunately, one day Y/n went live on Instagram with her best friend. Unfortunately, because Y/f/n didn't know how to keep her mouth shut. Unfortunately, because Y/f/n gave away the big secret.

"You know, guys, we're gonna use lives as a way to spend time together," she joked, "I've been feeling a bit abandoned since Y/n has been spending so much time with her boyfriend. Even on tour and with his busy schedule, can you believe this?"

Y/n's eyes widened. "Y/f/n!" She scolded her friend.

"What? It's a joke, no worries, I can see you're finally happy and I'm happy for you!"

"Y/f/n! You weren't supposed to say that!"

But the damage was already done. There was nothing Y/n could say to save the situation. So instead she decided to start dropping subtle hints for the fans to guess. Maybe it was the right time to make the relationship public after five months. They couldn't hide it forever.

Y/n started the hint game when she was on Jimmy Fallon's show.

"Y/n Y/l/n, everybody!" Jimmy announced when the girl walked in and sat down on the armchair. "I haven't seen you in a year and so much happened during this time!"

"I know, I know," Y/n said with a smile. "I'm so glad I could make a quick pit stop here on my way to Montreal."

"I'm happy to have you here. You won an award, you got a boyfriend. How- how did that happen?"

Y/n chuckled at Jimmy's question, realizing it was the perfect opportunity to play the hint game. "Oh, life takes unexpected turns and sometimes you find yourself on a fast track to happiness."

Jimmy raised an eyebrow, sensing there was more to the story. "Anything you'd like to share about this mystery man?"

"You know, Jimmy, I've finally found someone who knows how to navigate the twists and turns in life."

The audience laughed and the speculations among fans skyrocketed as they tried to connect the dots from Y/n's playful hints.

The other time, Y/n was on a popular radio show. The host couldn't help but ask about the latest reveal of a big secret.

"You were left hurting really badly after your previous relationship," he spoke, "it's really good to see you finally happy."

"It was a big thing for me. Still is." The girl admitted. "My previous relationship made it hard to open up to a man like that again."

"What made you do it eventually then?"

"I decided life is too short for keeping things in the slow lane," Y/n chuckled, "and when you meet someone that can belt out a Taylor Swift song with the same passion as you, it's hard not to fall for them."

"So your mystery man is a Swiftie too? Any chance we might know him?"

"Oh, I bet many people who are listening right now would know him."

"Now you got us all intrigued, your fans wouldn't forgive me if I didn't ask for more."

Y/n grinned, "Well, he's practically flawless, except for one little detail. He's a scorpio. And let me tell you, when we're playing our silly little racing video games, his competitive scorpio side really comes out. It's all fun and games until his racing pride is at stake."

The host laughed. "I'm sure fans are already trying to guess who this mystery gamer is. And you, are you competitive?"

"Yes, totally. He's more experienced than I am, but it doesn't mean I won't try my hardest to beat him."

"Is there any trait you don't share?"

The girl nodded, "Yes, one thing I'm secretly jealous of. He's quite known for being able to fall asleep in the most uncomfortable conditions. I wish I could do that. I'm all about pillows and comfy blankets, but he can just doze off anywhere, anytime."

A few days later, in the warmth of Lando's bedroom, surrounded by the hum of city life outside the windows, Y/n brought up the topic with a playful glint in her eyes.

"You know, Lando, fans have been buzzing lately. It's quite entertaining."

"Well, you have started this yourself," Lando laughed, laying his head in his girlfriend's lap.

"Not me, it was Y/f/n. I just went with it and turned it into something fun for myself." Y/n defended herself. Her fingers started gently playing with Lando's hair.

"You do seem to be having a great time, leading your fans on and all that," he joked. "Are there chances they'll solve your mystery anytime soon?"

"I've seen a few tweets accusing you of being my secret boyfriend, but most people don't really believe that."

"What?" He sit up dramatically. He continued in a fake-offended voice. "Do they think I'm not good enough?"

Y/n giggled.

Lando's mock offense turned into a playful pout. "I can't believe they're doubting my boyfriend potential. I mean, come on, look at me!" He gestured theatrically at himself.

Y/n burst into laughter, "Maybe we should give them a little more to work with, stir the pot a bit."

Lando leaned in, placing a quick kiss on Y/n's cheek. "You're a master of turning chaos into entertainment, you know that?"

"It's quite a compliment, coming from a Formula One driver."

Lando flashed a grin. "Well, we both have our talents, don't we? Maybe we should drop some subtle hints during a race?"

And so they waited months for the Grand Prix in Vegas, because that was where they could start rumours about getting married. Sure, they could get married spontaneously anywhere, but there was no better place than Las Vegas.

Thankfully they managed to keep the relationship secret all these months, breadcrumbing Y/n's fans. After the Vegas GP, Y/n and Lando where supposed to go for an afterparty, get 'drunk' and then 'married'.

Unfortunately, they plans changed the direction a bit with Lando's crash. Y/n's heart sank as she watched the unfolding drama on the big screens. The thrill of the race was replaced with concern for Lando's well-being. Plans for the afterparty and the playful hints about a fake marriage suddenly didn't matter anymore.

Emergency crews rushed onto the track, the anxious seconds felt like an eternity as they worked to help Lando get out of his racing car. Y/n's heart pounded in her chest, the world around her blurring. The fact that he managed to walk away from the car was a small comfort.

Y/n's phone buzzed moment after Lando disappeared from her sight.

from: Lando

I'm okay, they're taking me to st vincent's hospital. Will update you soon. Love you xx

to: Lando

Be there in a second, see you soon

A shaky exhale escaped Y/n, she felt slightly relief and ran towards the exit. She was sure Lando wasn't okay, not after that crash, but at least he was conscious and walking on his own (although it could be the adrenaline). A moment later, when Y/n got into her own car, her phone buzzed again.

from: Lando

Yknow you could post a pic from the hospital, that would stir the pot

Y/n smiled at the massage. If he could think of that, he might had been better than she thought.

The neon lights of Las Vegas blurred as she drove through the city streets, trying to get to the hospital as quick as possible. Despite the speed, the journey seemed to stretch in time.

Arriving at St. Vincent's hospital, Y/n rushed through the entrance, her heart pounding. The reception area looked like a maze in her anxious state, but she managed to find a nurse.

"I'm here for Lando Norris," the girl said.

The nurse looked her up and down. "Are you his family?"

"I'm his girlfriend."

"Then, unfortunately, I cannot let you see him."

"His family is in Europe, I'm the closest to family you can get here in Vegas."

"The closest, but not family. I'll ask you nicely to wait here for further information."

Y/n nodded with an angry expression on her face. She sat down in the waiting room, pulling out her phone and dialing the number of her manager.

"Hey, Mia," the singer said. "I need you to do something." Urgency and frustration were visible in her voice.

"What's going on, Y/n? Are you okay?" Mia's concerned voice came through the line.

"It's Lando. He's been in a crash during the race in Vegas, and they've taken him to St. Vincent's Hospital. I'm here, but they won't let me in because I'm not 'family.' That's so stupid."

"I'm sorry, Y/n, but I still don't see what you want me to do."

"I want you to make a donation for the hospital from my account. Send them like $100,000. I think it'll be enough to let me in."

"Okay, I'll take care of it."

"Thanks, Mia. I appreciate it more than you know."

Y/n took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. Anxiety lingered in the air. But there was no way they wouldn't let her in after that.

Y/n didn't know how much time had passed. She felt as if all she did was staring at a wall in front of her, ocassionally moving her eyes to the floor or the ceiling. She was fidgeting with her fingers as the same nurse approached her.

"Miss Y/l/n, you're allowed to see Mr Norris in the room 305."

Without a word, Y/n rushed to the room. She found Lando lying in the hospital bed, his gaze turning towards the door as she walked in.

"Lando." Y/n breathed his name, rushing to his side and taking his hand in hers. "I was so worried. And they didn't want to let me in at first."

He managed a dazed smile, his eyes slightly glazed. "Hey, you're real, right? This isn't happening in my head?"

Y/n chuckled. "Yes, I'm real. It's me."

He squinted at her. "You sure? You look like a beautiful hallucination."

"Well, if I'm a hallucination, at least a beautiful one."

"I feel like I'm floating on marshmallow clouds, but you're the most beautiful marshmallow I've ever seen."

Y/n couldn't help but laugh. "I think you might be on some strong painkillers, love."

"Ah, that explains the marshmallows. They're having a party in my head," Lando said with a dreamy expression.

Y/n burst into laughter, the tension of the earlier moments disappearing in the room.

"Did you know," Lando continued, "that racing is like trying to catch a rainbow? And if you're lucky, you might find a pot of gold at the end."

"Is there an Irish leprechaun as well?"

"I wouldn't be surprised. Maybe that's who's been guiding me all this time."

"You gotta ask him to make the rainbow less slippery next time then."

He nodded solemnly. "I'll have a serious talk with him. No more slippery rainbows, only smooth, marshmallow clouds."

As they joked around, Y/n couldn't ignore the quiet concern for Lando's well-being. She gently brushed his hair away from his forehead. "You scared me, you know? Seeing you crash like that."

"I'm sorry, love. I didn't mean to scare you. I promise I'll be more careful next time. But you have to promise me something too.""

"What is it?"

"You'll visit me in the marshmallow cloud world sometimes. It gets lonely up there."

Y/n laughed, leaning in to press a gentle kiss on his cheek. "I'll visit anytime you want."

"You know, even in the middle of all this craziness, having you here feels like finding that pot of gold at the end of the rainbow."

As the night carried on, the hospital room became a cocoon shielding them from everything that layed outside its walls. Y/n found herself falling asleep on an armchai next to Lando's bed.

In the quiet ambiance of the night, Lando's mind wandered through the whimsical landscapes of his medication-induced thoughts. He couldn't help but marvel at the coincidence that brought Y/n into his life.

It all started with handing her an award. It seemed like it happened a whole lifetime ago and now, there they were, in the middle of marshmallow clouds.

Y/n, nestled in the armchair, breathed softly in her sleep, completely unaware of Lando's reflections. Soon enough, Lando allowed himself to succumb to the gentle pull of sleep as well.

[bu-blegh-ost]

The time has finally come, @girlsonlytreehouse !!!

Today I shall share with you the fruits of my work. But first, allow me to take you on a journey I myself have been through while counting all of this shit down.

First things first, I decided to count the rolls in the context of the characters rather than the people playing them, simply because the luck of the actual people could not be measured accurately if I only take Riptide into consideration (and also I thought it would be more fun). The guys have several different campaigns, some that I do not have access to, so I've decided to seperate all their Riptide rolls into characters they play instead, cause then we can clearly see which character is the luckiest. But ofc if you want this to be attributed differently, the data remains unchanged, so that way you all can interpret the results however you wanted and still have all the info you need on hand.

Another issue were the advantage/disadvantage rolls. When a character rolls at advantage, they roll twice and the only roll that counts is the one that was higher, while the other is discarded and the opposite goes for disadvantage. So for example if you roll at Disadvantage and you roll a nat 20 and a 2, that nat 20 technically doesn't matter. Despite that I decided to count each adv/disadv roll anyway, because despite the fact that it does not count, it was still physically ROLLED, which means it contributes to the character's overall pool of luck. I tried to separate them at first so you guys can make your own decision whether to add them or not, but in the end I decided against it cause it was insanely hard to keep up with. There were just too many and too often, which led me to believe that it was fair enough to count everything as long as they actually rolled a dice.

Which brings me to the last complication, which is of course Gillion's Prophetic Screwup. At the beginning of the campaign Gillion was able to exchange anything that he actually rolled into a nat 20, and in return the DM can change any roll he does afterwards into a nat 1. That way there was supposed to be an equal number of wild unrolled nat 20's and nat 1's to balance Gillion out back to 0, but it didn't turn out this way. In more cases than not, Grizzly would either forget or fail to find a good place to screw Gillion over, so the ability bacame much too unbalanced. So they changed it somwhere in the middle of Edison Kingdom Arc. From then on, if Gill rolled anything from 1-10 it would automatically become a nat 1, and if he rolled from 11-20, that'd be a nat 20 instead. Either way these rolls had nothing to do with luck, as he wasn't actually rolling anything, thus I decided not to count these 'artificial' nat 20's/1's. However I did keep track of them nonetheless and I'll still give you the number of those, just separately, and from then on you guys can make your own decision on whether or not you wish to count it.

OOOFFF ALRIGHT.

Without further ado, here are the nat 20's results (up to ep106):

Gillion: 52

Chip: 58

Jay: 55

Goobleck: 8

Surprised? Yeah I was as well. First things first I never expected this to be this close. And never in my right mind could I possibly predict that it would he CHIP of all people to have the highest score here. But I've seen it with my own eyes. And tell you what. Jay had this in the bag for most of the damn series. She would consistently roll good and always when you need a good roll the most. There were times when she would have such a massive lead it was unthinkable she could loose it. But then she would just kinda...stop rolling good for a bit and allow the other two to catch up. It just wasn't as visble if you don't pay much attention, but I thought it to be cute. It's as she was waiting for them <3 But she was still mostly leading. It was only the current arc that made Chip surpass her. After his terrible luck in Feywilde, he bounced back so strongly right after, that he managed to jump in front of the luck queen herself.

And now I bet you're curious about the other side of the coin. Give it up for natural 1's!:

Gillion: 55

Chip: 53

Jay: 52

Goobleck: 1

You see, I kind of expected it to be Gill, but I need you guys to know that this wasn't the case at all times. Jay? Yes. If there is one thing that's consistent is that she had the lowest amount of natural 1s at all times almost, but the person that was suffering from nat 1 curse for a long while was Chip. In the Feywilde Arc he would be so far ahead of everyone, that I was genuinely sure that there is no way anyone catches up to him. But then he popped off in the next arc with nat 20's and Gillion? Oh my gosh, Gillion didn't disappoint. I've never seen a man fail this much let me tell you XD He ended up with the least nat 20's as well, but I thought the difference would be much higher until he didn't roll 4 fucking nat 20s in ep 100 and then this double nat 20 attack roll in the Black Sea whduihdius AND HE CAUGHT UP AS WELL, more or less.

Idunno, maybe this is just how luck works, but it truly seems that the trio shares their successes and burdens almost equally. They support each other and in return fate has their backs as well. Honestly I couldn't have hoped for better results. Also can we give shout out to Goobleck, the true MVP? He's been on the show only for a while but look at this nat1 - nat20 ratio!!! Go goop man goo!!!

So now for the additional stuff that I also counted just for fun:

*Prophethic screwup nats:

Before the rules changed Gillion replaced 8 of his rolls into natural 20s, and in return Grizzly replaced 3 of his rolls into natural 1s.

After the rules changed he only got high enough number for 4 nat 20s, and a low enough number for 7 nat 1s.

So that together makes additional 12 nat 20s and 10 nat 1s from the prophetic screwup alone. I don't think they should be added, but the numbers are there so feel free to do whatever you want with them :)

Downs and death saves:

Throughout the campaign Gillion went down 14 times and rolled 8 death saves.

Chip went down 6 times and rolled 4 death saves.

Jay went down 4 times and rolled 3 death saves.

No shocker here, Gillion dies a lot XD

Knights:

In their journey Gillion knighted 4 people: Julien Booker, Clorton, Garrieth and Duke.

Corruption score:

Thus far each character has the following amount of corruption points (Black Sea):

Gillion: 0

Chip: 2

Jay: 3

Queen: 1

Gryffon: 2 (i think, unsure abt that one, may edit later XD)

Earl: 1

That is all I have for now. I may be clinically insane :)

Good day to everyone and I hope you found this data interesting. Take care <3

[elyrch]

Hi! I like your writing a lot!!

Can I please request Aizawa x reader who is insecure. She has a friend who is absolutely STUNNING and is a really nice person. She asks Aizawa if he thinks she is attractive but not to start a fight, just because she is having a moment of low self-esteem. She is convinced he wouldn't have liked her if he met her friend at the same time as her.

OPTOMETRY: Oneshot

a/n: YIPPEEE I'VE BEEN WANTING TO WRITE ONE OF THESE

summary: hurt/comfort. insecure gn!reader, but the friend is described with she/her and "girl". i cried a little writing this

your friend is so, so kind. so heart-achingly kind to you that you feel terrible for being jealous, but what can you do? she's so pretty that it leaves a pit in your stomach, no matter what. it's not like you can stop your thoughts, either- you'll be thinking about going to the store or getting food, and boom, suddenly you feel like you're rotting from the inside out. you can't even blame her for it either- she's just pretty. so what?

well, the so what of it is that you... you're insecure. sure, you don't blame the girl for being easy on the eyes, but it doesn't really help. whenever you're out with her, random people always come up to her, telling her she's so pretty, asking for her number, buying her drinks- and you're just sat by her side, sulking as you nurse your drink and taking count of the nearest exits, hoping neither of them would notice if you just left. however, one person did notice, every single time- even if you had no clue about it. your darling boyfriend, shota aizawa.

now, to be fair, shota notices more than most. he's a pro hero, obviously, and he definitely notices how you begin to crumple in on yourself when your friend stands at your side. he's not stupid- he sees people ogling her and calculating just how quickly they can get a date with her, but today it's bad.

today, you were at a restaurant- although it seems to be more of a bar at times- with shota and your friend. your friend was at the bar, and shota was in a booth since the seats were much more comfortable than the stools at the bar. you were between them, but you kept noticing random people walking up and talking to your friend, but a striking number of zero came up to you. while she had multiple men fawning over her, you had a grand total of none. shota noticed this, obviously, and at first, he was happy- proud, even- that enough people saw you were taken to just steer clear. however, he also noticed nobody even came up to you to just talk, even if it wasn't a flirting thing. his first thought was, and i quote, "these people wouldn't know beauty even if it slapped them across the face." and, by god, was he right.

eventually, you left with shota, and you decided to bring it up on the way home, thinking he didn't even notice. you asked him, "baby, do you... do you think i'm pretty? like actually pretty, not just the whole being in love with me thing," and he, quite literally, flinched. you thought he had been hiding this from you but... but he wasn't. you just couldn't see why he would.

he pulled the car over on the side of the road, and looked over at you. you were looking away, out the window, at the world that you wished to escape to now that you realized the intense awkwardness of the situation. he placed his hand on your cheek, and guided your face towards him, sighing when he could see your face. "honey, i don't think i've seen anyone who could be more beautiful than you are," he smiled, and by this point you began to cry, but he continued, "i mean this with no exaggeration, i would be a soldier in the most brutal battles just so i could catch a glimpse of your face, alright? do you hear me?" he says, in almost a whisper- something only you could hear.

oh, what a thing for him to say on the side of the highway. you melt, then, and he maneuvers your position so that you're comfortable as he kisses your forehead. as he does so, he keeps whispering how your freckles and moles rival every star in the universe, how your eyes hold the stories of all that came before you, how your legs have carried you so far and will continue to do so for even farther, how your nose defines your face in a way that inherently ties each feature of your face together, how your hair surrounds your face like the halo of an angel, how your voice has soothed his ailments and carried him through the hardships of life, how your mind is so intricate that he could just listen to you for days on end, even if you say some things repeatedly. he says all of this like he was telling you the sky was blue and grass was green. he told you this as though he was explaining what a wooden cube looked like to someone who couldn't see it- and, based on how he spoke to you, you'd expect him to take you to an optometrist if you didn't believe him. it was just the natural progression, in a way. if he couldn't convince you that you were beautiful, he'd just have to get your eyes checked.

just as quickly as it started, it ends. shota wipes your tears, and holds your hand on the way home- not an awkward or nervous silence like before, oh no, but being comfortable as the dust settles in your hearts. his hand gently caresses the back of yours like it's second nature, and you're not even sure he's aware he's doing it. the night ends with a movie and very, very cozy cuddles- back rubs included.

please reblog if you liked this one!

[pulisicsgirl]

silence is deafening - mason mount

summary: after a fight with Mason digs up memories she'd rather forget, Y/N is left to deal with trauma from her past and decide if she will let Mason in

pairing: Mason Mount x reader

word count: 5.1k

warnings/tags: angst, hurt/comfort, couple fight, !! in-depth description of childhood trauma !!, lack of communication, supportive Mase, everything will eventually be okay-- you all know I can't write a sad ending, not proofread (I'm so sorry)

requested: yes!! here

notes: back with another request!!! This one has been sitting in my inbox for a LONG time!! I've had the draft halfway written for SO long, but couldn't decide how to finish it until I was struck with a bit of inspiration earlier this week! I hope you all enjoy it!!

You rested your elbow on the counter, forehead placed in the palm of your hand as you used the other to scroll and click through the numerous emails in your inbox. You had a big deadline coming up for your work, and it seemed that the brunt of the responsibility for it had fallen unexpectedly on your shoulders. As a result, your coworkers were coming to you with all of their questions, new emails popping up in your inbox every hour. So here you were, sitting at the bar in the kitchen, legs tucked under you as you continued to work even after arriving at home from a full day’s work.

Your boss had been on your case for a few weeks now for a reason unknown to you, which put you on edge each day that you went into work, nervous to step a toe out of line and be reprimanded, or worse, fired. You feared that this project could be the breaking point if it didn’t work out, which only added to your nervousness. You had never let a project like this fall apart before, but the anxious thoughts swirling around your mind convinced you that this would be the day that you failed.

You were just closing the browser to open a spreadsheet when you heard the sound of the front door opening and closing. You vaguely heard Mason call out into the house and the sound of his keys dropping into the bowl by the front door, too focused on your work to comprehend what he had actually said.

The nerves seemed to have settled in your chest like a heavy weight, pressing onto your diaphragm as your eyes flicked between the seemingly endless list of numbers and data on your screen. Your head was beginning to ache, and you imagined that this is what drowning would feel like.

You were pulled from your thoughts as two hands slipped around your waist as Mason pulled you tightly into his chest.

“How’s my baby?” Mason mumbled into your neck, pressing kisses to the skin there, and as much as you usually enjoyed being greeted this way, you were feeling overwhelmed by the sudden contact.

“ ’m okay,” you mumbled in reply, wiggling a bit to try to pull from his grasp, but Mason didn’t get the message, keeping your back pressed to his firm chest, continuing to place kisses on your neck and shoulders, his beard tickling your skin. “Mase, please…”

“What are you working on, sweetheart?” he mumbled softly, pressing his nose into your cheek.

“It’s just a thing for work. The deadline’s actually coming up pretty soon.” You tried prying his hands from your waist, beginning to feel suffocated, but Mason didn’t seem to notice. If he did, he ignored it. “So I really need to work on—”

“Come on, just give me five minutes,” he spun your chair toward him so he could see your face. Placing his hands on your cheeks, he began peppering kiss all over—your forehead, nose, cheeks, chin. “Haven’t seen you all day. I just wanna –”

“Mason please!” Something in you snapped and you pushed his hands away from you. “Why can’t you just leave me alone for two seconds! I’m trying to work! Can’t you see that?”

Mason stumbled back a couple of steps, caught off guard by your outburst. You never called him by his full name, and you certainly never shouted at him. A look of hurt washed over his face, the grin that had previously played on his lips falling into a frown, eyebrows drawn together, and you instantly regretted your words. You didn’t mean them, but you were overwhelmed and simply lost your cool.

“Mase, I’m sorry, I-“ You rose from your chair quickly to apologize to him, reaching a hand out toward him, but he was already halfway out of the kitchen by the time you could move in his direction. Your heart sank in your chest as you watched him round the corner, heading down the hallway.

You dropped yourself back into the chair, resting your head in your hands as your eyes began to sting with tears. If you thought you had felt miserable before, you had surely made it worse now. You cursed yourself for letting your stress get the better of you and letting your job come between you and Mason. The despair that you felt sat on your ribcage like a weight as a few tears slipped down your cheeks.

You decided maybe it was best to give Mason a bit of space before you tried to apologize. You knew you had hurt his feelings. He often expressed to you that he feared being too clingy or smothering the other person in his relationships, but you had always reassured him that you loved it, finding solace in his presence and his touch. Until today, when you had snapped at him for doing the very thing you told him brought you peace.

It truly wasn’t that you didn’t want him to touch you. In fact, in this moment, there was nothing you wanted more. You were feeling overwhelmed and had failed to communicate that.

With slightly puffy eyes you wiped the tear streaks from your cheeks, pulling your computer in front of you, determined to finish the work you had laid out for you so that you could spend the rest of your evening making it up to Mason. That proved difficult, though, with anxious thoughts about your relationship swirling around your head, now contributing to the anxiety you felt over your job.

You felt things getting progressively worse—your heart speeding up, the shaking in your hands getting more intense, and you were having trouble concentrating at all.

After about a half an hour, you heard Mason’s soft footsteps as his sock-clad feet padded down the hallway. Your heart skipped a beat, trying to quickly collect your thoughts so you could articulate to him just how sorry you were for what you had said and how you had acted.

But as Mason turned the corner into the kitchen, it was clear he hadn’t come to talk to you, not even sparing you a glance as he walked over to the fridge. Your voice caught on the lump in your throat, surprised by his cold demeanor.

“M-Mase?”

Your call to him was left unanswered as opened the refrigerator door, bending down to grab a bottle of water from the shelf. He uncapped the bottle, taking a drink from it as he walked back out of the room without a word.

Your lower lip wobbled, and you felt the tears welling up in your eyes. You closed your computer, knowing that you were going to get nothing more done, dropping your head to rest on your forearms on the countertop. You tried to muffle the sobs that shook your body, not wanting to guilt Mason into comforting you. You got yourself into this situation and would have to figure out how to deal with it.

It took another half hour for you to calm yourself, your crying finally ceasing. You took a few minutes, trying to make it appear as though you hadn’t spent the last 30 minutes crying in the kitchen before you decided to “pull up your big girl pants” and go find Mason.

You walked slowly and reluctantly down the hallway, first checking in your shared bedroom and finding both it and the ensuite bathroom empty. As you walked back into the hallway, you heard a noise coming from Mason’s gaming room and decided that must be where you’d find him.

You knocked softly on the door to alert him to your presence before you pushed the door open slowly. Mason was facing to your left, looking at the TV where he was playing FIFA, and only the side of his face was visible to you. Once again, he didn’t look toward you, focusing on his game without so much as a glance in your direction.

You took a couple of steps toward him, playing with your fingers in front of you as you moved to a position where you knew he could at least see you out of the corner of his eye.

“M-Mase? Can w-we talk?” Your voice was shaky as you spoke, but you took a deep breath, determined not to cry again. “Please?”

You waited, but there was no response. The clear shakiness of your voice earned a brief glance in your direction, but nothing more.

“Mason?”

Nothing.

All at once, a wave of emotions and painful memories hit you, the silent treatment from Mason taking you back to a time in your life that you had resolved to leave in your past.

Before you could stop it, a sob left your lips, and you clasped a hand over your mouth to silence it, rushing out of the room. You closed the door a little more harshly than you had intended to, soft cries leaving your lips as you raced down the hallway to find somewhere—anywhere—where you could get some fresh air and breathe for a moment.

Before you could even think, you had rushed to the front door, slipping on the trainers you had left there and grabbing your keys. You were out the door quickly, fighting back tears as you turned the keys in the ignition. You weren’t sure where you were even going to go, you just needed to find somewhere to be alone.

*

Almost as soon as you had left him alone in his gaming room, Mason knew something was really off. The two of you had fought before, but you had never reacted to it the way you had when you ran out of the room.

He had resolved to give you the cold shoulder, feeling hurt by the way you had pushed him away so harshly. But his concern for you outweighed his need to get you to apologize. He hadn’t been able to keep himself from glancing in your direction when your voice shook as you spoke. You had never sounded so afraid to address him, and that simple fact was eating away at him. He had soon after turned off the console, wandering out of his gaming room in search of you.

The house was eerily quiet as he moved through the hallway, checking in each room that he passed to see if you were there. When he entered the kitchen, noticing your computer lying closed on the countertop, he furrowed his brows. After not finding you anywhere else in the house, he had been sure you would be back in the kitchen, working on whatever it was that had you so stressed out.

Your shoes and keys missing from the walkway told him you had left, and he felt his heart sink a little. He had been hoping to find you and work this out quickly, hating the way he felt when there was distance between the two of you.

After debating whether to text or call to check on you, Mason settled on a quick text, afraid of suffocating you further. He wandered into the kitchen, aimlessly rummaging through the fridge and the cabinets as he waited for you to reply. He was restless, checking the screen of his phone every few seconds to see if a text from you had popped up, but nothing came through.

It wasn’t long before he threw caution to the wind, dialing your number without caring if you would be frustrated with him. The nerves caused by your brief argument and not knowing where you were was causing his worry to spike and he couldn’t keep himself from calling.

The line rang for several long moments before the automated voice began telling him you were unavailable.

He hung up, blowing air out in frustration and tossing his phone onto the counter before he plopped down in one of the chairs at the countertop. For a few moments, he just stared at the chair you had been sitting in when he had first arrived home���the place you had been sitting when you’d shouted at him.

His heart clenched in his chest at the recent memory. You had never reacted that way to him before, and it bothered him more than he cared to admit. The negative thoughts began to swirl in his mind, feeling like a cloud of despair.

 He felt small. He felt like he was overbearing. He worried that you had grown sick of him and simply didn’t want him around anymore.

As tears sprung to his eyes, Mason’s level-headed side began to prevail.

Yes, you had never reacted that way to him before, so that had to mean that something had triggered it.

Everything had been fine when he’d cuddled up to you in bed that morning, and he was equally as touchy and clingy as the two of you had gotten ready for the day, so something had to have changed between then and when he got home.

As he wracked his brain to remember what you had been saying before you’d snapped at him, he realized he couldn’t really recall what you’d told him. He hadn’t really been paying attention, he realized.

He dropped his head into his hands, elbows resting on the countertop, as the shame washed over him. Perhaps this all could’ve been avoided if he’s just paid attention to what you had been trying to tell him.

With another sigh, Mason picked his phone up from where he had tossed it on the counter, dialing your number again.

And again, he was met with no response.

*

You hadn’t actually gone far on your drive, only making it about 10 minutes before you pulled off into a mostly empty parking lot, parked at the back where it was the most deserted, and broke down into sobs.

You felt silly for crying so much about receiving the cold shoulder from your boyfriend, but it had brought up so many memories and feelings you had done your best to repress.

The environment you had grown up in was… less than inviting. In your house, children were treated as more of a nuisance than a blessing. You were made to feel that unless you were bringing some sort of value to others, you didn’t deserve anything. Love was something that had to be earned, not something unconditional that was shared between a parent and child.

Silent treatment was something that your mother had often used to signal that she was upset with you. From a very young age, longer than you can remember, when she would begin to ignore you when you spoke to her or tugged at the hem of her shirt to get her attention, it meant you had to scramble to find a way to earn her love.

So, seeing Mason doing the very same had taken you right back to that time. You had once again felt like a young child, scrambling to prove that you deserved the love of another.

Of course, you realized that there was no way for Mason to know this would have bothered you the way it did. He knew that your relationship with your parents was now non-existent because of the circumstances of your upbringing, but he didn’t know the full extent of what they had put you through. You hadn’t gathered the strength to tell him all of those details yet.

So you had done the only thing you could think of to do in that moment, and you ran away—something you most certainly regretted now. But you didn’t want Mason to feel guilty for making you cry when you knew you had been in the wrong, so you sat in that empty parking lot for as long as it took you to calm yourself down.

You allowed yourself to sit there and feel miserable on your own for a while, but you knew you’d have to go back to face Mason soon. You knew he was probably worried, but you had turned your phone off after his first call came through. You felt even more guilty as a result, but you had been unable to deal with reassuring him of your safety at that moment.

It was dark outside by the time you walked back in the front door, closing it behind you quietly. You slipped your shoes off, placed your keys in the bowl, and hesitated a moment in the entry.

The soft jingle of your keys had alerted Mason to your presence, and he practically jumped up from his seat at the counter where he had remained the entire time, feeling miserable as he tried to call you nearly every 30 minutes.

Mere seconds passed before Mason darted quickly around the corner to find you standing there, still about 10 feet away from him.

His stomach sank to his feet at the sight of your red-rimmed eyes and puffy cheeks. It was clear you had spent the entire time you were gone crying.

At the sight of him standing carefully at a distance, the feeling of guilt overwhelmed you, and tears sprung to your eyes.

“M-Mase, I’m so sorry, I-“ you stumbled over your words, the first tears spilling down your cheeks. “I shouldn’t have-“

“Shh, shh, it’s okay,” Mason was standing in front of you in an instant, cradling your face with his hands. His thumbs swiped over your cheeks, wiping away the tears that had fallen. “It’s okay, don’t worry. You-“

“No,” you asserted, shaking your head as you held onto his forearms to steady yourself. “No, it’s not okay, please let me apologize.”

Mason’s heart squeezed as you gazed up at him with wide eyes, and he could tell you were trying to stop your lower lip from quivering, but to no avail.

You took a deep breath, in through your nose and blowing the air out slowly through your mouth to try to gather yourself, wanting to be sure that you remembered every part of the apology that you had mentally composed on your way home.

“Mase, I’m so sorry for snapping at you,” you looked up at his face as you spoke, watching as he drew his brows together with a sad expression on his face. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you the way I did, and I shouldn’t have shouted. Work has been awful these last couple of weeks, and my boss has been giving me absolute hell. I think it all just built up.”

Mason nodded at you, and you could tell from his soft expression that he understood what you were saying.

You continued, “It’s not an excuse, I just want you to know that it wasn’t you that was bothering me. I just unfairly took my bad day out on you. I don’t feel like you’re too much—ever—I just… I needed a bit of space, and I should’ve just told you that.”

You could see his face physically relax as the relief washed over him, and you felt even more guilty knowing he had been sitting with those thoughts of self-doubt ever since you had left.

“I’m really sorry,” you finished with a whisper as Mason brushed his thumb softly over your bottom lip.

Without warning, Mason pulled you into a tight hug, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, making you feel completely enveloped by him—and the feeling was the greatest relief you could ever remember feeling. He buried his face in your neck, and you could feel a couple of warm tears against your skin.

The two of you stood there in the entryway, clinging onto each other like you’d vanish into thin air if you let go. Mason’s hot breath fanned against your neck, and you closed your eyes, drinking in the feeling of being so close to him.

“Thank you,” Mason whispered after a few moments. “Thank you for talking to me.”

You squeezed him in response.

“And I’m sorry for being so childish,” he pulled his face back, still holding you in his arms. “I shouldn’t have just ignored you like that. I should have told you how I was feeling, too.”

You brought your hand up to cradle his cheek, pressing a smile to your lips despite the your eyes still being wet with tears.

“It’s okay, Mase, you couldn’t…” you hesitated for a moment, struggling with the idea of opening that part of yourself up to him. But you knew it was a conversation that was well overdue, so you pushed out of your comfort zone. “You couldn’t have known that it would bother me so much.”

Mason remain quiet, turning his head to place a gentle kiss on the skin of your palm, sensing that you had more to say.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Um… so y-you know that my relationship with my parents really fell apart after I was able to move out, and… um…”

You hesitated, feeling frustrated with yourself for struggling to open yourself up. Here Mason stood—the perfect boyfriend, really. He had never judged you for any of your struggles or for anything from your past. He had been nothing but supportive and compassionate since you had first met him. Despite all of this, those nagging thoughts that you weren’t deserving of it all would persist no matter how hard you tried to push them away.

As Mason realized that this was becoming a conversation that would likely require a lot of time, he pulled away from you slightly, taking both of your hands in his as he led you to the living room. He sat down on the couch, opening his arms up to you so you could sit however you felt most comfortable, wanting to put your troubled mind at ease however he could.

Feeling a desperate need to remain close to him, you wound up placing yourself on Mason’s lap, facing him with your knees settled on either side of his hips. Your arm naturally found their place wrapped loosely around his neck, and he placed his hands on your hips, alternating between brushing his thumbs against your waist and rubbing his hands over your thighs.

You took a minute to compose yourself again, staring at the front of Mason’s t-shirt as you didn’t feel confident enough to look him in the eye. Mason remained quiet, continuing his gentle pattern over your legs as he allowed you to have that moment. He could tell that there was a lot weighing on you, even beyond the stress that your job had been causing you.

When you were able to gather your thoughts, you began speaking softly, and you told Mason everything.

You told him about your childhood and the nature of the relationships you’d had with your parents. You told him about the sudden changes in your mother’s disposition and how she would be happy one moment and hateful toward you the next. You explained your long history with the “silent treatment” and how you now realized that was a trigger for you. You were honest with him about the uncertainty that you felt about yourself and about your relationships as a result of this kind of upbringing.

“My mother, she… actually reached out to me last week,” you mumbled. By the time you had finished recounting your life story to Mason, you had cast your eyes down to your lap where you were playing with your fingers, unable to bring yourself to look at his face. “It’s the first time she’s done that since I left home years ago. I don’t really feel like I’m ready to reply to her yet, but I think it’s just dug up a lot of feeling and memories that I tried to bury for so long.”

Mason’s silence as you stopped speaking only made you more nervous. Hesitantly, you looked up to his face, but the pity you expected to find in his eyes was nowhere to be seen.

Instead, Mason had a look of pure admiration in his eyes.

“Please say something, Mase.”

He brought his hand up to your cheek, brushing your skin gently as he gave you a tearful smile.

“You’re so incredibly strong, Y/N.”

His reply took you by surprise, as, for seemingly the hundredth time that night, tears spring to your eyes.

“Really?” your voice shook as you spoke.

He nodded. “You went through all of that, and you’re still the kindest soul I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing.”

You couldn’t stop the sob that left your lips as you fell forward into Mason, tucking yourself into his chest. His arms immediately were wrapped around your body, your shoulders shaking as you cried into his neck.

You weren’t sure how long the two of you sat there. Your cries eventually diminished into soft sniffles as you remained with your face tucked into Mason’s neck. He slowly trailed his fingers over your back, rubbing soothing shapes and patterns, and after all of the crying and how emotionally drained you felt after reliving the trauma of your past, you felt like you could fall asleep right there.

When you had finally settled a bit more, Mason enveloped you in his arms again, squeezing you gently as he pressed a kiss into your hair.

“Thank you, Y/N,” his voice was no higher than a whisper. “Thank you for telling me all of that.”

Lacking the energy to reply in that moment, you shifted slightly so that you could place a kiss on his collarbone in a silent thanks for listening and understanding you on a level that no one else ever had.

You sat there for a while, allowing yourself to just relax into your boyfriend’s body as he held you. As you rested there, you knew that there was nowhere else in the world that you’d rather be.

Feeling your muscles soften and noticing that your eyes had slipped closed, Mason knew you would soon fall asleep and decided that the two of you should go on up to bed.

He shifted you off of his lap gently, trying to disturb your peace as little as possible. He stood, bending over to pick you up from the couch, and carried you bridal style toward the stairs and up into your shared bedroom.

He took you into the ensuite bathroom and placed you gently on the counter. After grabbing the skincare products he had observed you using over the many nights that you had spent together, he set out, following your nighttime regimen as closely as he could remember. He took a couple of cotton pads, dampening them with your cleanser and swiping them over your cheeks, forehead, and nose. He pumped a bit of the moisturizer on his fingers and gently rubbed it into your skin. Your eyes slipped closed, and his soft touch nearly lulled you back to sleep, sitting there on the countertop.

Mason only left you alone for a moment as you brushed your teeth and he wandered into the bedroom. You could hear him moving around but didn’t have the energy to find out what he was doing. Just as you had finished rinsing out your mouth in the sink, he reappeared behind you, having changed into a loose pair of joggers and discarding his shirt, sliding his arms around your waist as you stood up straight.

You relaxed back into Mason’s touch, pressing your back into his bare chest and letting your head fall back onto his shoulder.

For a moment you stood there, drinking each other in. Mason swayed you gently back and forth as he pressed his cheek to the side of your head, his body radiating warmth from behind you. With your eyes closed, you focused on the feeling of him pressed up against you, arms holding you securely as the gentle pace of his swaying calmed the remainder of the racing thoughts in your mind.

Even with your eyes closed, you could feel the tears springing to them as you thought of how thankful you were to have Mason in your life—how thankful you were that he was your person. You had always known that he was someone special, even from the first moment that you met him. But now, having explained to him the entirety of your childhood and all of the difficulties that came with it, you just felt that much close to him and that much more appreciative if who Mason was.

Kind, forgiving, understanding, gentle—you could have gone on for the rest of the night listing all of the characteristics that made Mason the most perfect man you’d even known.

You twisted in Mason’s hold, tucking your face into his neck so he wouldn’t see the tears spilling over once again. You folded your arms between your bodies as he held you close, allowing him to completely envelop you in his hold.

After another moment, Mason placed a gentle kiss to your temple. “Come on, love. Let’s get to bed.”

You nodded, shivering from the cold as he unwrapped his arms from you.

You followed him back into the bedroom, noticing that the sheets had been pulled back, the pillows arranged just how you liked them, and the shirt that Mason had previously been wearing just before was folded on your side of the bed. Your heart warmed at the small acts of service Mason had done for you.

After you’d undressed yourself, slipping Mason’s t-shirt over your head, you crawled into the bed and placed yourself right next to Mason, who was now clad in only his boxers. He pulled the sheets and the duvet up, tucking them over your bodies before he lay down and pulled you into his arms.

With Mason’s arm wrapped around your body, you lay with your head on his bare chest, listening to the soft and steady beating of his heart. It only took a few seconds of you laying there before Mason had slipped his hand under the hem of your shirt, trailing his fingers over your back and reveling in the feel of  your skin against his. Your legs were tangled under the sheets as the two of you lay in silence, content to be completely wrapped up in one another.

The silence was only broken as you whispered into the night air a few moments later. “Thank you, Mase. For everything.” You pressed a gentle kiss to his chest.

“Anything for you, my love,” he replied softly, squeezing your shoulders. “Anything at all.”

tag list: @landoslover @thoseboysinblue @lovelynikol16 @swimmingismywholelife @masonsrem @bracedes @neverinadream @lizzypotter14 @notsoattractivearenti @chilwellspulisic @mm-vii @10vnderhaze

Feedback is always appreciated!!!

[hellfirexwhore]

Forget What You've Heard E.M.

Line cook!Eddie Munson x Bartender!Reader

Sorry it took so long between posts! I've been working all day every day so it's busy over here. I hope you enjoy! 

I do not give permission for my work to be copied / posted as original work on any platform.

Your favorite co-worker's flirty nature is your favorite part of the workday, but is it genuine? Someone is feeding you lies just as your patrons are being fed mozzarella sticks and Eddie is determined to convince you he's not just playing games with your heart.

Misunderstanding, hurt/comfort, fluff, cursing, an asshole named Dylan (We all know one), use of Y/N

Wordcount 4.7k

You smile to yourself as you count up the tips you've made so far. Bartending has done wonders for your wallet, and it's totally worth it if you can look over the long hours on your feet, creeps trying to get into your pants, and going home smelling like sour mix and sweat. You just moved to Hawkins 6 months ago and since living on your own is expensive, you serve beers and shake cocktails at the karaoke bar downtown to make a living. It's easy work and you're good at it, but there's just one issue; your favorite co-worker is a huge distraction. Eddie is the cutest damn line cook you've ever seen with his curly hair always tied into a low bun and his smile that you're sure could cure a number of diseases, but those things don't make it easy to do your job efficiently. It's nearly impossible to grab a platter of nachos from the window without him throwing out a wink and calling you sweetheart, telling you you're doing a good job, or even sliding a basket of fries to you with a finger to his lips as a way of saying "Don't tell on me, honey." 

Tonight is no different. Eddie has been a total menace all night, flashing you that flirty smile, keeping you from your work with his corny pick-up lines that he insists will get him a date with you one day, making conversation, and giving you extra sides of ranch without making you ring them in first like the kitchen manager does. The second you walked into the back to set your bag down after arriving, he told you your hair looked absolutely ravishing even though it's just thrown into a clip like always, making you blush like crazy. It took nearly 20 minutes to get the scarlet red tint to leave your cheeks, and though you tried your hardest to hide it, Eddie sure as hell noticed, leaving a smile on his face throughout the busy evening.

"Hey sweetheart, I've got those wings for the bar top ready for you." You hear from behind you, snapping you out of your thoughts. You smile to yourself at the nickname and put the glass you've just finished washing upside down on the drying mat. 

You turn around to an always grinning Eddie leaning his elbows on the stainless steel of the mini counter under the window to the back of house and holding the ticket in between his index and middle digits. You take the slip of paper out of his hand slowly, letting your fingers touch for a moment before stabbing it through the small metal spike to your right. Every once in a while, you like to indulge in his flirtatiousness, though it makes you nervous. Eddie's fun, he's nice, and dishing back what he gives to you every day isn't hurting anyone. "Thank you, Eddie."

"Any time, sugar." He replies, winking and turning to grab a new ticket and drop an order of potato skins in the fryer. You shake your head, smiling from ear to ear, turning to serve the hot plate to one of your regulars. 

The rest of the shift goes great. Your tips are higher than you had planned, nobody had to be thrown out for fighting, and you got to hear a wonderful rendition of "My Heart Will Go On" sang by a very intoxicated older gentleman during the karaoke session. As you clean up the bar for the night, as always, you can't stop thinking about Eddie. You think tonight might actually be the night you ask him to hang out with you outside of work, though he's invited you to go get some late night pizza before, playfully pouting when you have to decline, telling him that you're exhausted and have to go back to the bar to open the next day. You've wanted to say yes, but Eddie makes you nervous. You're feeling bold tonight though, and you're optimistic. 

Unbeknownst to you, Eddie is in the kitchen cleaning the fryers, taking out the trash, and scrubbing the floors absentmindedly, almost like he's in auto-pilot because he can't get you out of his head. He wants so badly to ask you out, but he's tried that and you don't seem interested. He realizes you probably just flirt with him for fun, a harmless workplace friendship with some winks and pet names sprinkled in, but over the past four months, he's developed a serious crush on you. 

There's just something about you that makes you so different from everyone he's ever dated or been interested in. He doesn't feel like he has to change who he is for you. There's nothing better for Eddie's ego than how easy it is to make you smile, and goddammit what a beautiful smile it is. Every time you look at him through your lashes, blushing at something stupid he's said, Eddie feels like he could lift the entire building up with one hand and not even break a sweat. He fears he's in too deep at this point, the innocent flirting leading to him finding himself thinking about you even once he's gone home for the night. 

"Hey Eddie boy, I think you missed a spot." Eddie rolls his eyes at the irritating voice coming at him from his left. Dylan is one of the most insufferable people he's ever met and of course, he has the honor of working beside him at least 3 nights out of the week. 

Eddie doesn't turn his attention to Dylan, just continues wiping down the steel counter top. "Bite me, jackass." 

"Wow, someone's sassy today, huh? What, you didn't get enough attention from your little bartender tonight?" He smarmily replies, a disgustingly annoying grin on his face. Dylan, to Eddie's dismay, has picked up on the little "situation" between you two, making a joke of it every chance he can in an attempt to piss him off. 

Eddie laughs humorlessly, throwing his rag down and turning to the bane of his existence, crossing his arms over his chest. "Dude shut the fuck up."

"Hey look man, I get it! I'm just saying it's embarrassing watching you stare at her like a fucking creep all day. She does look pretty smokin' in those jeans though, so I don't blame you. Hey maybe I'll ask her out tonight, see if I can get some tail. Think she'll give up the goods?" He's smirking while Eddie's blood is raising in temperature. He can practically feel smoke coming out of his ears hearing this sorry excuse for a man speaking about you like you're just a piece of ass and not the sweet, funny, beautiful person you are. 

"I swear to God, I'll bust your teeth in." Eddie seethes, trying to keep his cool, at least while you're in the building. You're blissfully unaware of their hatred for one another and the last thing he needs is for you to see him throwing his fist into Dylan's face for talking about you. That wouldn't be very "innocent flirtationship" of him. 

"Guys! Come on, finish cleaning and knock it off. I don't have the energy for your cat fights tonight." The kitchen manager huffs, stepping between the two of them with a severely annoyed look on his face. Wordlessly, Eddie takes one more look at Dylan, picks his rag back up, and continues his task of degreasing all of the surfaces. He wants to get it over with and be able to clock in time to catch you before you leave and walk you to your car.

Dylan, the vindictive man he is, takes the opportunity to make his way through the swinging kitchen door and into the main bar area while Eddie isn't paying attention. You look up, expecting to find Eddie standing there, but confused when it's the guy you barely speak to heading in your direction.

"Hey Y/N, you do good tonight?" He asks, leaning against the bar. You smile politely, still wrist deep in soapy water from washing the bar glasses and beer mugs. 

"Yeah, better than I expected actually. Did you need something?" You ask, not rudely, but assuming he came for something specific seeing as he's never made small talk with you before.

Dylan takes a breath and rests his elbows on the hard wood of the bar top, shaking his head like he's trying to think of how to tell you what he sauntered up to you for. You begin to dry your hands, getting a little nervous thinking that maybe the manager had sent him up here to tell you something you've done wrong. You're still relatively new and you've never gotten in trouble here before, but you can't think of anything else he would need to say to you. "Look, I know you and Munson are friends, and I see the way you look at him. You like him, and before you deny it, just listen to me." 

Your heart starts to race. Did he tell Eddie? Did Eddie say something to him? How are you going to face him when apparently other people are picking up on this? Are you this obvious? You can't take it anymore so you nod, waiting for more information as you toy with your hands. 

"You seem sweet, okay and I don't want to see someone like you hurt by someone like him. Eddie and I are cool, but this is what he does. he flirts with the new ones, takes them home, and never speaks to them again. When another newbie comes in, he starts it all over again. I just thought you should know since I'm sure you're a genuinely nice person and I'm certain Eddie is taking advantage of that." Your heart drops at his words. You feared you were being played with, but you didn't want to believe it. You fell for Eddie's charms, and now it's time to face the harsh reality that you had completely misunderstood this whole situation and made yourself look like an idiot in front of everyone. 

"Um, wow. Well thanks for telling me, I appreciate it. I'm gonna finish up here and head out. Have a good rest of your night." You say, rushing through so you don't tear up mid-sentence. Dylan nods, not saying another word but offering a sympathetic smile before turning on his heel and going back through the door he came. You pull the plug to the dish sink, gather your signed receipts to shove into the drawer, and give the glazed wood one last wipe down. You hear Eddie say your name through the window but you act like you can't hear him. 

This whole thing could have been avoided if you wouldn't have fallen for the good looks and quirks of the fuzzy-headed, wild-eyed line cook. You never should have caught feelings in the workplace; that's like rule number 001 in the service industry. Never, under any circumstances, canoodle with your co-workers. You thought maybe this was an exception but now here you are, proven wrong. 

Heading through the swinging door to the kitchen, you avoid eye contact with everyone, especially Eddie, as you walk straight to the back to gather your things. You feel humiliated and giving Eddie the satisfaction of seeing you upset is out of the question so the sooner you can get out of the building, the better. You give quiet goodbyes to the managers and make a quick escape, or you at least try to before a hand reaches out to hold your forearm. 

"Hey, wait for me. I'll walk you to your car." Eddie says softly, giving you a soft smile. You can't bear to look him in the eyes, so you gently pull away, shaking your head. 

"It's fine Eddie, thanks though." You reply, turning to finally leave. Eddie watches as you throw your bag strap onto your shoulder and hurriedly make your way to the exit. Hurt washes over him and he's more confused than when he learned what a tampon is in middle school. He furrows his brow and slumps his shoulders, going back to his final task before he can leave for the night. He doubts you're still going to be in the parking lot by the time he can get out there, but his heart is racing like he might have a shot at catching you before you leave. 

Did he say something? Did his flirting finally make you uncomfortable tonight? He racks his brain trying to come up with some sort of reason why you would be upset with him. Normally, he would suggest that maybe you're just tired but even when you're on the verge of falling asleep where you stand, you can still manage to give him a sleepy smile and a breathy laugh at another one of his terrible jokes. Maybe he took it too far. Maybe he weirded you out or gave you the wrong idea. It wouldn't be the first time he's scared someone off.

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You continue to go to work as normal, doing your best to not entertain anything Eddie had to say. The more distance you can create between the two of you, the less likely you'll get hurt. The time for stepping away from him to protect your feelings ended long ago but now it's time to do some damage control before you get worse. You get attached to people, and unfortunately that includes the bad people too. 

You thought long and hard about whether or not you actually believed Dylan. I mean it's his first time actually talking to you and he breaks the news to you that Eddie just wanted to get into your pants? Why would he care? After going back and forth with yourself over it for your entire day off, you don't know what to think but what you do know is that if they really are friends and if Dylan actually does care, then the safe bet is to just stay away. If he's telling the truth and you ignore that to continue growing your feelings for Eddie, you're in for a world of hurt and that's just not something you can deal with right now. 

You're not mean to Eddie when you work now; you just treat him like everyone else. You say "please" and "thank you", you ring in your extra sauces when you need them, you greet him just like you greet every other cook, and you don't flirt or bat your lashes at him anymore. Eventually, he is going to ask why but until he does, you can't bring yourself to ask him about it. It's humiliating and if he does have bad intentions, he's not going to be honest about it anyway so what's the point in starting that conversation? 

Eddie is trying everything. These past few days have been hell for him and he's grasping at straws. He offers to make you fries, you tell him, "Thank you, but I'm not hungry." He tries to ask you about your day, you apologize and say you're busy. He tries to catch you before you leave at night, but you practically sprint for the door the second you're finished with your side work. 

He watches through the window as you smile at your last patron of the night, desperately wishing that smile was for him. You haven't paid him any mind in 3 days and it's driving him crazy. It might be a little better if he actually knew what he did, but he's completely clueless. The awkward interactions are eating away at Eddie, and he knows if he doesn't say something soon, he'll explode. He starts his cleaning and breaking down the line as quickly as possible in an attempt to finish before you do so you don't run away from him again like you have been. If he doesn't get this straightened out, he doesn't know what he'll do. 

Your last tab is cashed out and you begin your cleaning, causing Eddie to pick up his pace. He knows it'll take you 20 minutes max now that you and him aren't chatting throughout to slow you down. As long as nobody gets in his way, he's determined to finally be able to talk to you tonight. Not playful banter, no pick up lines, just a real conversation. The sooner he gets back into your good graces, the better. 

"Trouble in paradise?" Eddie turns to see Dylan smirking with his arms across his chest. So much for nobody getting in his way. 

Eddie laughs humorlessly and goes back to his work. "Fuck off, dude." 

"Look man I'm just saying it seems like there's a little riff between the lovebirds lately. I wonder what happened, hm?" Dylan replies, his tone condescending as ever, doing his best to get a rise out of Eddie. To his dismay, it's working. 

"You don't know shit." Eddie mumbles, wringing out a sanitizer rag, his fingers already becoming little prunes extended from his hands from the extensive cleaning. 

"I don't know about that one, Ed. We had a really riveting conversation, seriously it was interesting, and I'm sure I know a little more than you think." This stops Eddie in his tracks. He breathes hard through his nose and turns on his heel, grabbing Dylan by his shirt and shoving him against the wall. 

"What the fuck did you say to her? Huh? Are you the reason she won't fucking talk to me? What the hell is wrong with you, you jealous son of a bitch?!" Eddie shouts. The manager on duty is already trying to break the two of them up and you hear the commotion from the front, peering your head into the window to see what the hell is going on. 

"Ooh Munson is mad! I just told her exactly what you're up to, that's all." Dylan says, calm as ever, a disgusting smile on his face. "Punching me won't undo it, so go ahead." 

"Enough! I swear to god, I will kick you both out." Eddie reluctantly loosens his grip on the boy's clothing, only pulling away completely when he's certain the risk of getting fired isn't worth hitting Dylan, even though the want to is overwhelming. 

 Eddie looks to you, his heart breaking at the disappointed look on your face. He decides this ends now. He has no idea what filth and lies have been planted in your head, but he needs to fix it and fast. He gives one last scowl to the man he was just threatening, and backs up, walking out of the kitchen door. 

He approaches the bar and you freeze. You don't know what you're supposed to say or do, so you do and say nothing. He has a soft look on his face, one very different than the one he was wearing in the kitchen just a minute prior. It's almost as if his rock hard persona turns to cotton candy when he's in your presence, and if you ask Eddie, that's exactly how that works. 

"Look, I know you don't want to talk to me and I'm still not entirely sure why, but please wait for me. Please talk to me, let me figure out what the hell happened, and let me fix it." He pleads. You think it over quickly, trying to figure out of this is something you even want to get into right now. You question his motives, still confused as ever. Helpless, you nod and see the relief wash over his entire body, giving you the same feeling as when you're in the middle of a horrific thunderstorm, and in an instant, the sun comes out of the dark clouds. Whether this conversation leaves you feeling like a sunny summer day or it leads to another crack of thunder, you're unsure but you have half an hour before you find out. 

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You sit there at the bar having finished your closing work, waiting for Eddie to finish his. Against your better judgement, you're happy to talk to him again but nothing can stop the knot in your stomach from growing tighter. All you wanted to do today was make some money, go home, cook dinner, take a bath, and watch a movie in bed but now, you're sitting here, anxiety building up in your body like a tower of mix-matched Lego pieces. 

You're taken out of your thoughts when Eddie exits the kitchen and walks toward you, not looking any less nervous than he did earlier in the evening. "Hey, sorry I took so long." 

"It's okay." You say quietly, standing up from the bar stool and pulling the strap of your backpack up onto your shoulder. "Do you want to talk outside?" 

Eddie nods, giving you a tight smile. He leads you out of the front door and around to the side of the building to the employee parking lot, not saying a word just yet. the silence is broken by the flick of your lighter, illuminating the tip of a cigarette freshly placed in your mouth, inhaling the smoke and feeling the tiniest amount of tension wash away. 

You lean against your car waiting for him to speak, still not really sure what you're supposed to say. He's the one that needed to defend himself, he's the one who wanted this conversation to happen. 

"Look, I don't know what Dylan told you but I can assure you it was a lie." He starts. He's fidgeting with his fingers, avoiding eye contact. He's lost every ounce of confidence he once had when he's on the other side of the wall passing you a basket of chicken tenders. 

"If you don't know what he said, then how would you know that?" You reply, taking another drag of your cigarette. You're hoping he's being genuine and not just defensive right off the bat, but if someone is lying about you, you'd feel defensive too. Everything is still fuzzy and figuring out this mess is like putting the pieces of a clear puzzle together.

"Because he fucking hates me. He does shit just to piss me off." Eddie shakes his head, pulling his own pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, lighting one between his lush lips. 

"Why would he hate you, Eddie? What did you do?" You don't mean to point blame at him but he had to have done something to make someone hate him to the point of making up a lie to make you ignore him for days.

"When I first started, he thought I was flirting with this girl he had a thing for, and she got a crush on me. She didn't want to hang out with him anymore and he thought I just swooped in and stole her. I didn't even like her like that but since then, he's made it his job to make my life a living hell when he's here. That includes fucking this-" Eddie gestures his hand between the both of you, "-up for me." 

"He told me you're fucking with me." You say, suddenly fixing your eyes on your sneakers. You almost shudder thinking back at the way your heart dropped to your stomach when Dylan first spoke to you. "Said you flirt with the new ones to get into their pants and then move on to the next one." 

Eddie's eyes widen, looking like he's a child being told Santa isn't real. The genuine look of shock is very convincing, and you're close to dropping every allegation from that expression alone. "Jesus Christ. Y/N, I promise that's not what's going on here." 

"How can I know that for sure? I felt like an idiot after he told me that. I was humiliated thinking I fell for some sleazy game you were playing." You're trying not to tear up. You can feel the thickness in your throat as you speak, hoping Eddie doesn't pick up on it. Six months of growing feelings for someone isn't something to fuck around about, and you might have taken this more seriously than it was intended, but when you're in that close of proximity with someone for that long, itching for the other to make a move, it's hard to not be heartbroken when something happens to it. 

"Sweetheart, I flirt with you because I like you. At first, it was just fun and I thought you were cute, but now I have a big, fat, stupid crush on you and I think about you all the time. I don't ask you to hang out with me after work so I can take you to my van and get your clothes off. I ask you to hang out with me because I like the way you make me feel." Eddie responds, making eye contact with you finally, searching your eyes for any trace of doubt. He wants you to know how serious he is. This isn't just a fling for him, much like it never was for you. You had a feeling this could turn into something special, though it goes against everything people tell you about workplace relationships. 

"And what would that feeling be?" You inquire, not breaking the contact between his chocolate pools and your own, finding a boldness in yourself that you didn't know existed. 

"You make me feel like I'm the coolest guy in the world. You laugh at my stupid jokes, you compliment me, you're interested in what I have to say.." He trails off with a fond smile on his face. There's a softness about him that balances out the roughness of his edges, endearing you even further. He reaches out to grab your soft hand with his rough one. "I really fucking like you." 

"I really like you too. I was going to ask you out the night Dylan dropped a bomb on me." You admit, rubbing your thumb over the skin of his hand. 

"That motherfucker." Eddie shakes his head, getting angry all over again at the fact that he finally had his chance and it got ruined for him in an instant. "I'm going to kick his ass." 

You pull your hand out of his and smack him lightly on the chest. "No, you can't get fired! Who will I talk to all day?"

"You've been doing just fine not talking to anyone." Eddie jokes, raising his eyebrows and bringing his cigarette to his lips, inhaling the smoke that seems to make this whole thing easier. After having a sick stomach for hours, he skipped his smoke breaks, partially leading to his angry outburst.

"Yeah and it was miserable! Do you know how much I hated having to go through my shift without hearing you call me sweetheart?" You laugh, a sound Eddie missed, even for just three days. 

He smiles down at you, dazzling as always. You missing him as much as he missed you is actively washing away his worries one by one like a salty body of water washing away a structurally questionable sandcastle. "I won't deprive you anymore." 

"I appreciate that." You grin, taking his hand back into yours. 

"Does that mean you believe me? You can ask anyone, I'm serious. I talk about you all the time. The guys make fun of me for my "heart eyes" the entire time you're here. Ask Adam, Levi, Grant, Brandon-" 

"Okay, okay." You cut off his adorable rambling. "Yes, I believe you."

Eddie breathes a sigh of relief. You can see his shoulders relax, his jaw loosen, and his posture seems straighter. "Good because I mean it. I'm sorry this was such a mess for you. Hopefully I can make up for it?"

"And how do you plan to do that, Munson?" You tease, giving him the flirty look he had been wishing to see from you again. He can't take his eyes off of the way you look at him through your thick lashes. 

He moves closer to you subtly, moving slowly so he can relish in the moment. "Can I start with that date?" 

"You sure can." You say just above a whisper. You're lost in his eyes once again, but this time, it's not just playful. There's a brand new feeling getting introduced here and it blows your mind that it was first kindled in a greasy kitchen. 

As long as Eddie is here, things are easy. You have your flirty boy back and being at work is a little easier again. With Eddie right behind you serving up winks and pet names just as often as he serves up appetizers, going home smelling like beer and deep fried cheese is worth it. 

[sempersirens]

a bird in your teeth, epilogue

masterlist

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

warnings: mentions of past trauma, ptsd, nightmares. so much fluff

a/n: a little palate cleanser. sun bleached flies joel is on the naughty step rn

December 24th, (five years later)

God only knows, what I'd be without you...

The TV turned black as the credits rolled, only the warm flickering lights from the Christmas tree left to illuminate the room.

You took a steady breath in through your nose and locked eyes with Sarah, both suppressing a laugh before simultaneously turning to finally face Joel, who had been trying to silently bite back small sobs for the past forty-five minutes.

"How you holding up, boys?" Sarah teased, lovingly.

"You girls are damn evil. Pickin' such an emotional film on Christmas Eve."

"It's heartwarming!" You interjected.

"My heart is feelin' a lot of things right now but warm ain't one of 'em." Tommy murmured, wiping his eyes with the back of his sweatshirt.

"I just can't believe neither of you had ever watched Love Actually."

"May 'swell have, the number of times I've seen you two watchin' it, all damn year round," Joel said.

"Keep talking like that, Miller, and I won't make you an Irish coffee." You warned, earning oooh's from Tommy and Sarah.

You pulled yourself off the sofa and moved to the kitchen, proving your threat entirely empty. As you pottered around the room, collecting all of the ingredients for the drinks, you listened to the noise of the three people you loved most in the world simply existing in the room next to you. The haze of their laughter mixed with the song still warbling through the TV was softened by the wall separating you, a honeyed prayer just for you.

Somehow, life kept moving after that night. Everything thereafter seemed to be measured in the passing of time. Four days for your lip to heal. Three weeks for you to return Daisy's calls. Seven months until you could stop taking the long route to pick Sarah up and drive down that street again. Two years for the panic attacks to stop, for good. Five years, and counting, for an uninterrupted night's sleep.

Two months passed before your tenancy was over, but you had woken beside Joel each morning nonetheless. Sometimes, before the others had risen for the day, you would creep down the stairs and pour yourself a cup of coffee, sit on the porch, and look at that house across the street. You would watch the lights slowly turn on, see the silhouette of life taking shape. A young family had taken over your lease, and it comforted you to know another life was being nurtured within those walls.

Neither you nor Joel had ever discussed what happened that morning in that apartment. And you didn't need to know; you were content with the understanding you both did what you needed to go on. Call it closure.

"What's goin' on in that head of yours, pretty girl?" You felt his chest pressing against your back, his arms leaning on either side of your body, entrapping you against the counter.

His face nuzzled in the curve of your neck, breath tickling your hair against your skin.

"Just wondering if you're on the nice list this year." You turned to face him, staring up through your lashes at the man you love.

"That so? We've got about," he checked his watch, "two hours until midnight. M'sure I can do enough to make it on each of your nice lists for the next twenty years."

"You're planning on keeping me around for that long? Maybe I'll have a love affair with a real cowboy." You teased.

"Good luck gettin' him to watch a Hugh Grant film with ya."

You rested your hands on his face, using your thumb to trace his cheek lightly.

"How did I get so lucky?" You smiled, shaking your head softly in disbelief.

There had always been a surplus of love inside you, even when you were little. Throughout your life, you had poured it into the wrong people, time and time again. Belittled, taken for granted, chastised. Even though the love remained, you had grown to fear it. It would be like riding an escalator and instinctively grabbing the handrail, but being zapped by an electric shock. Each time thereafter, your hand would hesitate in reaching for the supportive grip. Sometimes it would tentatively hover above, trying to gage the sting of electricity a few millimetres away.

But loving Joel came so easy. Everything about him made you want to tear yourself open and offer him everything you had, everything you ever had been, and all you ever would be. You would wake in the night simply craving the feeling of his skin against yours. And every single time you reached out to him, even in his sleep, he would pull you in.

From the other room, an old Christmas song hummed through the walls.

Merry Christmas, baby / Sure did treat me nice...

"I should be the one askin' that question, darlin'." His right hand flexed in and out of a tight fist, the same way it did when he felt a bout of anxiety rise in his chest.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" You asked, concern digging itself into the furrow of your brows.

"I'm no good at this, you know that."

"No good at what, Joel?"

He pulled away from you slightly, lowering himself onto one knee, suppressing the groan you knew he desperately wanted to release at the tightness of his back and knees.

"My sweet girl, I will never understand why y'picked me. Out of all the men in this damn world, even Hugh Grant, I get to be the one who calls you mine."

"Joel..."

"I don't know much, but I know that I need t'spend the rest of my life by your side. And I need you by mine. Would you do me the honour of being my wife?"

"Oh my god, yes! Of course, I will, Joel."

Joel slipped the ring he had presented from a small box in his back pocket onto your finger. His smile showed off the creases by his eyes that you often wished you could dive into and engulf yourself in each feeling that caused them to deepen.

"Get up, you idiot. Your poor back. I don't want to be pushing you around in a wheelchair just yet." You laughed into his kiss, your bodies merging together like it was all they had ever been made to do.

"Can we come in yet?" Sarah called from around the corner.

"Yes! Come in, both of you." You replied, cheeks wet and aching from the smile etched into your face.

"No chance of those Irish coffees, I guess?" Tommy smirked, you softly clipped him round the back of the head before suffocating him into a hug. "Welcome to the family, Mrs Miller."

Merry Christmas, honey / Everything here is beautiful, I love you, baby / For everything that you give me.

[directdogman]

my power went out in the middle of me coding in the hobo interaction in my game and i feel like the little shit shart did it on purpose

like 4 HOURS WASTED THAT AINT NO ACCIDENT THAT FELLA DID IT ON PURPOSE I KNOW IT. THEIR GOD IRL CONFIRMED !!???!?

God: "Wow, your power went out? That's craaazy. While you were using it? Man, that's not really all that considerate, is it? Maybe the grid hiccuped. That happens sometimes. It sucks, but it's true. Nothing is dependable ALL of the time, after all. Y'know there's an acceptable amount of bug pieces that can turn up in candy? If they're able to legally sell you a candy bar with a centipede inside it, I guess it's to be expected that sometimes, power just kinda goes out. I mean, ya'd think they'd figure out a way to pump out stuff to chow down on without spiders in it before they'd figure out how to make electricity that never shuts off (even IF a spider falls into the reactor), right? Electricity is complicated, after all, way more than spiders and centipedes. Y'ever seen a spider create music? It's been known to happen, but it's rare is what I'm sayin'.

Y'know, actually, I think it's funny: If ya place a mass of spiders on a hamster wheel, they basically won't produce any amount of electricity worth talkin' about. They just kinda dart around aimlessly. Can't really coordinate spiders. Too many legs. More legs means more chaos. That's a rule. Ever stare at a crab? 'Scuttle, scuttle, pinch', that's a crab's motto. Lobsters aren't much better, but they have their own deal going on the side, which I won't go into now. All that being said, GOOD LUCK keeping insects from sprinting into reactors and frying the power grid for a moment, though! I mean, it's no wonder they keep appearing inside candy. They're skeevy lil fuckers, y'know. Like I said, lots of legs. An excessive number, even. 4 pairs. That's eight legs. Don't even get me STARTED on centipedes! No creature that isn't up to SOME kind of malarkey would need that many legs. Me, I've just got the two and boy, do I get a lot of use out of 'em. I mean, I stand around a lot, of course. Granted, I could sit or lie down, but then people'd assume I'm lazy... which maybe I am, but a lil bit of effort's gotta count for something, eh? Wait, what were we talkin' about again? Oh right, how to keep spiders out of reactors. Honestly, I think we'll figure it out some day, but as marvelous as the wonders of modern science are, I just don't think we're there quite yet. Maybe some day. All I know is, it won't be ME to figure the mystery out, that's for damned sure. Anyway, ya got any change?"

[swiftlymoniquesblog]

One Call Away - Sam Winchester x Reader

Loosely inspired by One Call Away by Charlie Puth in which the Reader calls on Sam as she’s going through a rough time. 

Listen to the song here

A/N: Hello! So this is once again one of those fanfictions that is based on what I’m really going through. I can’t get into details about what actually happened but I am a bit inspired and I wish I had someone like Sam (outside of my family) to turn to in times like this. I've been working on this one for maybe 6 months or so? It's been a long time coming so I hope you enjoy it!

As always, Supernatural masterlist | Masterlist of all Masterlists

Warnings: Mean people, crying, swearing, fluff, angst, language

Word Count: 3992

“You are a bitch!” The words of Judd Nelson in The Breakfast Club rang through my ears every time I looked at her. If I had to deal with her mistreatment one more time……

Okay, so it wasn’t always like this, in fact, it used to be really good but then again, it all seemed like a phase. It didn’t make any sense, all of a sudden I was out and looking in and it was not okay. The environment around me was so toxic, that I dreaded going there every day. I didn’t know what to do or who to go to so I went to the one person I always knew would be there for me. Stepping outside, I pulled out my phone and dialed his number. 

“Sam? Hey, can we talk?” I ask, hoping he isn’t busy.

“(Y/N) of course, what’s going on?” He said I can tell the concern in his voice.

“Work is just becoming too much for me and I don’t know what to do. I feel like no one likes me, people are trying to get rid of me, and I feel like I don’t have any ideas on how to fix the problem.” 

“(Y/N) I’m sorry, that’s awful. What happened?”

“I don’t know what happened or what changed, I just all of a sudden was kicked out of the crowd and it feels horrible. I work hard and I try to do everything that is required of me. I love my job and the people I work with but something changed for the worse.” I say, starting to cry. I couldn’t help but let all the feelings out because this was going on for months. 

“Hang on, I’ll be right there,” He says, the line goes slightly as the tears keep falling. A few moments went by and there was a knock at my door. 

“Oh sweetheart,” Sam says, pushing the door closed behind him and wrapping his large arms around me. Sobs just wracked through my body as the stress of the last few months boiled over. 

Right before I started this job, I met the Winchesters. I didn’t even mean to meet them but I’m glad to have them. They were in town working a case and I had assisted them in pulling information on what may have killed the person they were after. Don’t worry, I’ve known that monsters are real before I met them. My great-grandfather was a hunter, my grandfather, my father, and it would’ve gone to my brother but the tradition is, it goes to the oldest child. So I’ve grown up in the life and have seen everything. Of course, the guys were thrilled to know I knew so much about monsters and some best practices to destroy them but I wasn’t allowed to actually hunt at all. I was just used to giving information but I was damn good. So I was asked to move into the Bunker for easier access but I ended up having to get a job because my assistance wasn’t being requested as often. Things were great at first but everything changed and it was awful. Of course, the Winchesters were overprotective because they said they saw me as a sister, and they wished they could do something to help me. 

“They’re doing what to you?” Dean had yelled, not at me but at the situation. “I’m going to make them pay for treating you like that.” 

“I appreciate that Dean, but I don’t want you to do anything,” I explained to him and Sam. They both frowned when they couldn’t help me but it was something I needed to handle myself.

“But (Y/N) you’re being treated unfairly. You do see that right?” Sam asked, more concern showing up in his features. 

“Yes Sam, I know, but let me handle this first and if that doesn’t work, I’ll ask you guys,” I say and make sure they both understand before I go back to my room.

Authors POV

“Why is she being treated so badly? She really enjoyed her job and then all of a sudden, everyone turned on her?” Sam stated, not fully grasping what happened. 

“I don’t know Sammy, but we gotta figure out how we’re going to help her,” Dean said.

“Dean, you know what she said, she doesn’t want our help.”

“The hell she doesn’t. She’s too nice to start something like this. She needs to be protected.”

“Look I think she can be too nice too sometimes but she’s also tough as nails in certain aspects. She doesn’t let anyone push her around so we just have to trust her and believe she will find a way to come out on top,” Sam says but he doesn’t trust those words himself. No, Sam is extremely protective of her and will do anything he can to make sure she is okay. He could never tell her why he feels that way, maybe because he doesn’t know himself, but when it comes to her, everything is different. 

He paced the length of his bedroom, which was rather small for his long strides, and that made him frustrated because he would have to stop, turn, then go back to pacing, only to have to start all over again a few seconds later. The cell phone that sat on his bed taunted him, telling him she wouldn’t call to say she needed him. He would get flustered, running his large hands through his hair, slightly tugging on the ends of his neck as he would groan. He hated waiting and hated that she wasn’t calling sooner for his help. It irritated him that anyone was treating her poorly because she didn’t deserve that. She was smart, brave, funny, beautiful, strong, resilient; nothing standing in her way but this? This was more than she could handle, he thought. This would upset even him and he was used to this kind of crap but as long as he’s known her, she didn’t deal with things where she was being used or people didn’t like her. Okay, so she’s only been a part of the team for six months, but she became family as soon as she decided to move in with them. 

A few hours passed and Sam had fallen asleep waiting around. He refused to help Dean with a case that had come up because he was so concerned with (y/n) and he knew he needed to be around in case she needed him. He would’ve slept longer if it wasn’t for his phone waking him up with a rather annoying buzzing sound.

“Hello?” He answers the phone, trying his best not to sound as though he was just asleep. 

“Sam?” A small voice came through from the other end. She sounded timid almost; something was wrong.

“(Y/N) what's wrong?” 

“Something happened and I need your help; I’ve lost control. 

"Okay, where are you?"

"Down by the lake, about two miles from the Bunker. I'm in my car." 

"Stay there, I'm coming to find you."

Luckily, Dean had come back from his hunt and it ended successfully.

"Dean, I need to borrow Baby. (Y/N) got into a bit of a situation and she really needs help," the younger brother says to his older brother, in a way he hasn't seen his baby brother for several years.

"Dude, of course. Is she okay?" Dean asks.

It took Sam a few minutes for him to find the words to answer. He looked like a fish gasping for air on the land; he truly did not know.

"I don't know. She sounded so scared and fragile…." A single tear fell from his eye, knowing the person he cared for most in the world was in great need of someone to be there for her.

Dean had only seen this behavior in Sam one other time and that was when he was sent to Purgatory. This must've been serious. 

"Take whatever you need. Just make sure you're good before you drive; you don't want to get hurt yourself. Call me if you need me."

"Thank you, Dean." Sam grabbed the keys to the Impala from the table a jacket and his phone before speeding away to try and get to his friend, in her weakest moment. 

The drive seemed endless but it only lasted ten minutes. He saw her small vehicle parked under a tree, close to the lake but still a good distance from the shoreline. It was dark, with only a few street lights a few yards away. Sam had the idea of turning the Impala's headlights on, hoping to illuminate the view around (Y/N)'s car and as a way to make himself known. 

"Sam?" Her voice rang out into the night.

"I'm here," he answers her.

The sound of a car door opening and shutting came and went and the next thing Sam knew, (Y/N) was running into his arms as she let all her pent-up emotions fully go. With her still in his embrace, he bent down so he was sitting on his knees, with her head resting in his jacket. He held her close, afraid to say anything, for fear it was too soon for her to speak. So, he sat with her, rocked her, and occasionally wiped the tears from her now puffy eyes. Even at this moment, his heart swelled. See, Sam finally figured out why (Y/N) was different; he was in love with her. Yes, he had fallen madly in love with her yet could never find the right time to tell her. Now was definitely not the time but when she would look up at him, tears brimming her big (y/e/c) eyes, he felt it in his soul; he adored her. He knew he would do anything for that girl and he ached to help her when she was this hurt. 

How dare anyone treat such a beautiful and kindhearted person like her? He had thought to himself. He couldn't fathom why anyone would be so cruel to her but he pledged to himself in that very moment, he was always going to be there for her; Superman had nothing on him.

Sam's POV

"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked, wanting to know what happened since she seemed more calm.

"I was called in by my boss and had a meeting with human resources. It was so stupid and I felt like I was being targeted. I threw up because it's just been too much and I've been so stressed. I'm gaining weight and I'm eating more crap; I hate this," she answers and my heart breaks further

"(Y/N) you need to get out of there. It's not healthy for you to be in that environment."

"I know but I don't want to quit; it wouldn't look good for future jobs."

"Fuck getting another job! Just stay with us and we'll have work for you to do. You don't have to worry about anything; we've got you." I say, reassuring her that we will always have her best interest at heart. 

She looked back at me with these big, wet, puppy dog eyes and I felt my heartbreak further for her. "I wish I could but I just can't."

"Well, I'm not stopping until we figure something out that would be much better for you and I'm not giving up until we think of something because goddammit (Y/N) I care about you."

The air in the room felt very thick and everything was quiet, (Y/N) not saying a word, not looking at me and Dean, well Dean had shot me a look and a grin, knowing what was behind this sudden statement. I gave him a mental plea of 'please leave.' I was relieved when he just smiled and left the room.

"(Y/N) are you okay?" Again, she remained quiet for a moment before finding the words to say. 

"What do you mean you care about me?" She asks.

"Well, I've always cared about you, since we've met," I answer, trying to put off the true answer.

"But when you've said this before, Dean has stayed in the room; he just left." I took a big sigh and then I decided it was time.

"Sam, what are you saying?" She asks, her head slightly turned to the side, much like Cass does when he's confused.

"I'm saying I care about you, as more than just a friend. I've been crazy about you since you came to stay with us and with all this shit happening at your work, all I wanna do is wrap you up in my arms and protect you from all the mean people," I finish my statement, my eyes never leaving her face. 

There's an agonizing silence as I try to read how she's processing all this but then she finally speaks up.

"What are you waiting for?

I take that as an okay and I grab one of her arms, tugging her into my body. She's safe and she's warm in the protection of me. My arms snake around her and I feel her taking a big breath in and out; her whole body relaxing. Time had passed and I wasn't sure how much of it had but I savored every moment of it. I slowly untangled her from my arms as she looked up to me. Not a single word was spoken but I took the lead and pressed my lips to hers. She reciprocated, pressing her smaller frame to mine by stepping on her tiptoes to reach me. We stayed together for a short while, but it meant everything to me.

Two days later Sam was on my side through everything but it was time to go to human resources to find out what they could do for me. 

“Sam, I'm scared.” 

“I know you are baby, but I’m here and I’ll be with you as long as you allow me to be.” He takes my hand and drives me down to the department where we would be meeting with a representative of human resources. We arrive and as he parks the car, he brings my hand up to his lips and leaves them there for a bit. 

“You ready?” He asks.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I say, gripping his hand a little tighter. We walked in and were met by the specialist. 

An hour or so passed and it was determined I would be going on a leave. A few weeks away from my workplace I could not be more relieved to be out of that situation. In fact, so much pressure had built up inside me that it exploded in tears from my eyes. Sam just held me tight and made sure I knew he was there. I was going to be spending every day with Sam and Dean and I felt a bit odd about it, knowing I wasn’t going to be able to help too much.

“Nonsense sweetheart, you can help us research our cases,” Dean stated.

“Could I come with you guys?” I ask.

Sam and Dean shared a concerned look but Sam spoke up first. 

“It wouldn’t be fair to leave you alone while you’re on leave but you have to promise us, you’ll listen to everything we tell you. We care a whole lot about you and these cases can get pretty dangerous. Stay close, don’t wander off, and shoot when we say.”

“Wait, you guys trust me to shoot someone? I’ve never done that before,” I state.

“We’ll teach you. We have more time now so we can get you ready,” Dean said. “Sammy, you got this?” 

Sam glanced at me and looked to read my face, waiting to see if I would object. “If she’s up for it.” 

I sucked in a hard breath and nodded. 

“Then I will take her on.” Now it was my turn to read his face. It wasn’t as easy but I managed; he looked slightly uncomfortable. 

“Sam, can I talk to you for a minute, in private?” He nodded and followed me out of the room. 

“You don’t have to teach me to shoot. You looked uncomfortable; I can ask Dean,” I say.

“No I want to,” he says.

“Then why do you look so annoyed by it?” 

“I’m not annoyed, I’m worried. Our line of work can be really dangerous; I don’t want you to get hurt.” 

“Well I’ll be fine, you’re going to train with me; I’ll be a hunter.”

“That’s not something to be excited about, (Y/N). We kill people and creatures.” 

“Sam, I know, I’m not excited per se but I am interested in learning more about you and what you go through every day.”

“But you can do that without doing what I do,” he says.

“Look, I really appreciate your concern and you’re right, I don’t have to do this to get to know you better but I don’t want to be alone for twelve weeks and I can’t ask you to give up hunting just for me so if this is what it takes, then teach me. Show me what I need to do to stay safe,” I said going over to him and wrapping my arms around him. He holds me close, his head resting on my head. 

“I care about you a lot, you know that, right?” 

“I know, I do too.”  

A few weeks later, Readers’s POV

Time seemed to have gone by rather quickly. The more hunts I went on, the easier it became. I took it as not killing people as much as killing creatures who may have been human at one point but aren’t anymore. I was continuing to stay busy with the boys, hunting, traveling, researching, and staying in more crappy motels than I could count. The job was taking a toll on me, on all of us, but we all grew closer and the boys treated me like I was their sister, well that was until Sam started distancing himself from me. It began as small ways for him to separate himself; not interjecting in conversations about hunts, simple nods or shakes of his head, answering with “hmm” instead of actual words. Then it grew into staying behind during hunts, not eating food with Dean and me, and overall just not acting like himself. 

“Hey Dean, have you noticed a change in Sammy lately?” I asked one day while he was driving us home from a hunt. 

“You mean any more than usual?” He jokes, always having to pick on his younger brother. 

“I’m serious, Dean, I’m worried about him!” I say, slightly swatting the elder Winchester. 

“I don’t know (y/n), maybe you should go talk to him, see what's bothering him,” Dean suggested.

I figured that was the best idea so I decided to do just that. I was a bit infuriated and when I walked, I added more pressure to each step, making sure Sam knew I meant business. I finally found him in his room, lying across his bed, as if we weren't worried about where he was.

“You better have a damn good reason for acting so off, Sam,” I say, making myself known.

“(Y/N)” he says, suddenly sitting up to look at me. 

“Well Winchester, what's your problem? You've been acting weird, especially around me. Did I do something wrong? Are you mad at me? What is it?” I asked, both hands on my hips, staring down at him.

“No, it's not that,” he says.

“Then what? I mean I thought everything was fine between us but you've been acting so differently towards me! You can't look at me for long, be around, or talk to me. It's almost as if I annoy you or something. Is that what it is Sam? Am I annoying? Do I bother you? What?!” I practically yell at him.

“I love you,” he says, calmly and not initially meeting my eyes. I go to say something else but just stare at him when his words sink in.

“You what?” I said, not immediately grasping what he was saying. 

“You’ve been through hell lately, with how everyone treated you at your job and you felt like the whole world was against you, you turned to me and I was always there for you. No matter what time of day, if I was out on a hunt or preoccupied with something else; I stopped for you. And in the midst of it all, I fell in love with you. Never in all my life have I connected with someone the way I have with you and all I want to do is protect you and make sure no one hurts you ever. I just hope you feel the same about me because I haven’t had much in this life but I hope to have you because you are who I am proud of, who I want to wake up to every morning, start a family with, maybe even retire from the hunt.” He said, looking at the tears that were steadily falling from my eyes. 

“I love you too Sam. I couldn’t have expected you to be the person I would turn to amid my darkest time but you were always there and you helped me realize there’s more to life than just working a job where I wasn’t appreciated or even valued for that matter. You’ve shown me what it means to love someone more than just myself and to be fully open and raw to someone else and I cannot thank you enough for that. You are my Superman; always there to save my day and my life. You are my heart's desire, my perfect man, the one I hope to spend the rest of my life with. I love you more than I have ever loved anyone else.” I admitted and the smile on his face was pure, unbridled joy. He took a few strides and took my face in his hands, just gently but enough for me to feel that he was in control. He took his time, watching my eyes the entire time except for the few times his gaze dropped to my lips and back. Making sure I had given silent permission, he finally brought his lips down to mine, just a small, chaste kiss to test the waters then when he saw my response, he brought our lips back together with a passion and urgency I wasn’t expecting from him. His hands moved from my face to my hips, bringing our bodies flush against one other, fear in both of us that this moment would end. I grabbed ahold of his shirt in both my hands, holding onto him with every ounce of strength I had. When we finally pulled away, there was a sparkle in his eye, one that solidified the next step.

“You know, now that we’re together, we can mess with Dean.” He suggested. 

“Oh yeah? Like kicking him out the room or make-out sessions in the backseat of the Impala?” I suggest. 

“Ah, now that’s my girl, exactly what I was thinking.” We both laugh before going back in for another kiss. In the end, Sam was who I needed. The person who was always there for me to run to when I just grew too frustrated with life. He was my biggest supporter and always made sure I had everything I needed or ever wanted. And all he ever was, was one call away.

[bella-rose29]

Hopeless Romantics

Lockwood x f!reader

Their relationship through various hopelessly romantic dates.

With the tickets discount thing I have no idea if that's an actual thing but I figured it would work in the same way as a student discount or something.

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: literally none other than maybe wondering why you can't actually have an anthony lockwood for yourself

Tag list: @anathemaloren, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss, @dangelnleif, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @karensirkobabes, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @ran23sblog, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @wandamaximoffbae, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife

Let me know here if you'd like to be added or removed from the tag list! <3

Stargazing

It had been an incredibly long night, all members of Lockwood and Co wanting nothing more than to collapse in their beds and fall right to sleep. George and Lucy had done just that, bidding goodnight to their fellow agents and heading up the stairs. Y/n had been about to do the same when Lockwood dragged her by the hand through the house, out into the back garden.

"Anthony, what are you doing?!"

He turned his head to look back at her, smile bright and blinding despite the darkness. "Taking you on a date," he said, just as he pulled her to the floor, lying down next to her.

"A date? Ant, it's the middle of the night!"

"Yeah, and for once it's not a cloudy British night. Look." He pointed up at the night sky, and Y/n realised he was right. If she concentrated she could see the Milky Way. The sheer number of stars was overwhelming, and she didn't think she'd ever seen so many.

They laid there for a good hour or so, only going inside when Y/n started complaining about the chill (Anthony immediately moved the two of them inside and up to his room, saying he'd be a terrible boyfriend if he let his girlfriend freeze). They'd been talking about whatever came in to their heads, occasionally wondering about the constellations and trying (and failing) to name them. Once changed into pyjamas and snuggled in his bed (really Y/n needed to just move in with him, she was in his room so much), they continued looking at the few stars that they could see from the window, and when Y/n finally fell asleep, Anthony carefully crept to close the curtains, slipping back under the covers and drawing his girlfriend closer, falling asleep himself moments later.

~~~

Dancing in the Rain

It had been raining all day.

George had complained, since he'd been planning on going to the Archives, but at the sight of the torrential downpour he'd decided to forgo the walk and holed up in his room instead. Lucy hadn't minded so much; she was in the attic reading, enjoying some peace and quiet.

Anthony was in the library, trying to get paperwork done, but with his girlfriend sat in the same room as him he was struggling. He huffed for the millionth time, making Y/n look up.

"What? You keep huffing and puffing. Is something wrong with the papers?"

"No, nothing's wrong with the papers. Just... How am I meant to concentrate when the most beautiful girl in the world is sat so close to me?" He turned on his chair, smiling dopily at her.

Y/n snorted, looking at him over her book. "Charmer."

"Is it working?"

"It doesn't need to work, Ant, we're already dating."

"I've got to make sure you know how much I love you though," he pouted, and Y/n giggled.

"You've also got to make sure your company is running properly?" His pout didn't leave his face, and he huffed (again) as he turned back to his work, running a hand through his hair in mild frustration. "Ant?"

"Yeah?" He looked over at her, immediately perking up at the sound of her voice.

"Wanna dance in the rain?"

"Right now?"

"Yeah. It's not as bad anymore, I think we'll be fine."

"Okay, yeah. Sure."

Y/n pulled him up from his seat, and he all but ran out the front door into the street, barely pausing to pull his shoes on. They were immediately soaked, Anthony's white shirt sticking to his body and Y/n's thin top doing the same within seconds. She was right, it wasn't as bad as it had been earlier, and they were laughing as Anthony held his hand out for her to take.

"May I have this dance, m'lady?" he said, his smile wide.

"You may," Y/n replied, placing her hand in his. He yanked her in, pulling her close to his chest, and she reached up to move some of his soaked hair out of his face. It wasn't much good, since she couldn't see that well from the raindrops that fell into her face, but she'd practically memorised the shape of him. He held her close, gently swaying as the rain fell all around them, the couple only moving when a car came around the corner and honked at them for being in the middle of the road.

When they came back inside a while later, George was just coming out of the kitchen, piece of cake in hand.

"No, nope, stay there, don't move! You two are dripping and I'm not letting you get that everywhere!" he rushed up the stairs, coming back a few minutes later with towels and changes of clothes for the two of them. "You can get changed there, then put your wet clothes in here. Let me know when you're done, so I can dry them and mop the floor." He handed over a plastic bag, one for each, then left, heading into the library.

"Oi, turn around, Ant. You might have seen most of it before but I'd like some privacy, please," Y/n lightly slapped his arm, nothing menacing in her tone as she turned her back on him. She'd barely finished pulling on the jumper (Anthony's jumper, really, but she wore it more than him at this point) than he'd wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back against his chest to hug her from behind.

"I love you, Y/n, you know that right?"

"I do. I love you too, Anthony."

~~~

The Picnic

"Anthony, where are we going? And why do you have a huge ass basket?"

"You'll see!" Y/n had been chatting with Lucy in their shared room (not that Y/n used it much now, she was in Lockwood's so much), when Anthony had burst through the door demanding that his girlfriend come with him. Y/n had laughed at his antics, taking the hand he offered and yelping when he all but ran down the stairs, girlfriend in tow. He'd been practically bouncing while he waited for her to put her shoes and coat on, and his excitement had only grown the closer they got to their destination. All of a sudden he stopped, making Y/n crash in to the back of him.

"Ant?"

"Close your eyes."

"What?"

"Just... just close your eyes, trust me. Don't open them until I say, okay?"

"Okay..." Y/n shut her eyes, squeezing them so tightly closed she could see patterns. She heard the rustling of something plastic, followed by the sound of him moving around and getting other items out of the basket, and after what felt like forever he finally said "Open!"

She did so, gasping slightly at the sight of the picnic blanket and various food items laid out. "Wait, you did all this?"

"Yep! Well, not all, George did the cooking, and Lucy helped me carry all the stuff back from Arif's without you noticing, but the rest was all me." He looked nervous, something Y/n hadn't seen her boyfriend be for a while, and she realised that he was waiting for her approval. He was scratching the back of his neck, slight blush covering his cheeks.

"I love it, Anthony. Really, I think this is amazing," she smiled at him, and immediately he relaxed, his own grin forming on his face. Y/n moved over to where he stood, planting a soft kiss on his lips. "And I love you."

"I love you too," he whispered, kissing her again.

~~~

The Aquarium

"Two day tickets please, we should get a discount too?"

"You agents?"

"Yes, Lockwood and Co." Anthony handed over his licence card to the woman behind the desk, and she handed it back with a nod of approval.

"Here you go, that'll be ten pounds altogether then please."

Anthony handed over the notes, then accepted the two tickets with a smile. "Thank you!"

Y/n grabbed his free hand, taking her own ticket and pocketing it. They made their way into the aquarium, stopping to read every sign and press their faces to every glass, and Anthony was sure that he was the luckiest guy in the world to have Y/n as his girlfriend. He told her as much when they stopped for something to eat in the aquarium cafe, and she'd laughed and gone pink.

"Well then I'm the luckiest girl to have you, Ant."

They'd left the table not long after, disposing of napkins and empty sandwich packets, and when Y/n squealed in delight and grabbed Anthony by the arm, he knew that the tunnel was just around the corner. Y/n was always going on about the tunnel where the fish swam right overhead, surrounding you with water that was held back by thick glass smeared with little children's fingerprints. She spent the next few minutes pointing out various creatures, and Anthony nodded along, listening intently to her descriptions of each one, from the largest shark right down to the smallest fish, a huge smile on his face at her awe.

"Ant, look!" She smushed her face against the glass, jabbing a finger at the ray that had started coming their way. When, a few minutes later, a second ray did the same, Y/n looked on in as much wonder as she had the first time, and Anthony found himself smiling softly at his girlfriend's apparently limitless fascination with the animals.

They sat in the tunnel for ages (they did have a day ticket, after all), chatting quietly about anything that came to mind, Y/n interrupting every now and then to excitedly list off facts about the fish.

When they finally left a while later, going around the rest of the aquarium, hand in hand, Anthony knew then that he never wanted to be with anyone else. She was still smiling at everything she saw, laughing at the pufferfish and marvelling at the lion fish, and her joy was infectious. A few times she stopped to talk to some small kids, exaggerating her movements and discussing the animals so seriously with them that anyone would think she was talking about the threats of the Problem, not seahorses. She was so good with the kids, and not for the first time Anthony caught himself thinking about their future together.

It was nearly dark when they left, having been kicked out because it would soon be curfew, and Y/n was pulling him along the pavement on their way home, still talking excitedly about her favourite parts of the day.

Yes, Anthony thought as he unlocked the front door and ushered Y/n inside. Yes, this is my future.

[fantasylover145]

I've seen a lot of people say that Buck needs to choose and Eddie needs to be chosen or whatever. But honestly I think it's the opposite. Most of the time Buck isn't accidentally getting into relationships, he's fairly passive at times once he is in them, but he has pursued quite a few of them. Buck pursued most of his hookups (snake lady & firetruck girl), even in the first ep with firetruck girl, he asks for her number after they sleep together, he pursued Natalia, even Taylor whilst she kissed him first in season 4, she already knew Buck liked her because he pursued her first and told her he was interested in her. Actually we can count Tommy too, Buck very clearly showed him he was into him and was attracted to him before Tommy kissed him, even if Buck at the time didn't know what it meant, he still CHOSE Tommy.

Buck just jumps in too quickly and goes head first into a relationship without ever fully thinking things through and if he is even in the right headspace for a relationship. Most of the time he hasn't stopped to think about if he is emotionally ready for a relationship and I think he uses them as a distraction and a way to get affection. Especially since 911 has shoved him into relationships immediately after he has gone through something extremely traumatic (the lightning strike & Eddie being shot). Buck may be using the relationships to avoid a lot of the problems in his life and he needs to work on that. But he has pursued multiple people in the past, he isn't just getting with random people because they show interest.

Buck has actively shown interest in all of his past love interests, Eddie on the otherhand has not. Even Shannon, Eddie wasn't interested in getting to know her again or spending quality time with her that wasn't physical. Whilst he showed initial interest in Ana and Marisol, he was never actually interested in either of them. Eddie is extremely passive when he is in relationships, he doesn't even care about them AT ALL, Shannon he did love but still didn't show much interest in her as an actual person seperate from the labels of wife and mother. Eddie keeps making these choices about who he should be and who he should be with because of what he was told growing up and the expectations on his shoulders. Eddie needs to be the one to finally CHOOSE for himself and pursue someone because HE wants to be with them. They both need to focus on themselves before anything happens obviously, Eddie going back to therapy, working on his grief over Shannon, his Catholic guilt, his harmful coping mechanisms etc. And Buck needs to focus on processing everything he's been through but most importantly he needs to feel chosen by his partner because he hasn't really felt much love that he could trust.

[zetsubo-bani]

Is Yana losing interest in Black butler?

This is something I've been seeing for the last couple of years. A lot of people, especially after the most recent chapter (210), are saying that yana has lost interest in black butler and that it is apparently evident. While no one knows for certain if she has actually lost interest in it, I would like present some of my thoughts as to why I don't think she has lost interest in it.

First of all though, why are people saying that she has lost interest?

It has to do with a the slow pacing of the story which has been a complaint for a long time now. The chapters typically don't have more than 20 pages nowadays and the most recent one had only 11 (9 if you don't count the chapter cover). It's frustratingly slow and always ends with another little cliffhanger.

Naturally a lot of people are fed up and lose motivation to continue reading it monthly since it feels like we're barely advancing with the story and because of this slow pace, people are saying that yana doesn't have any motivation to continue it further.

Now the reason why I think the pacing is so slow is because of twisted wonderland, the game she is in charge of. She is responsible for the main concept, scenarios, character designs and also creates most of the art in the game herself. That's a lot of work she has to do, especially if you consider that she's also working on black butler.

The number of pages a chapter have started dropping since the blue memory arc. From what I've seen, a lot of the pages back then started to have only 20 pages and the drop to the 10-20 pages seemed to have become a thing around the start of the blue revenge arc. And since then the number of pages is different depending on what happens in the chapter. We already had a 9 pages chapter back in 167 so it's not that she goes increasingly lower with the pages number.

The blue revenge arc started in 2019 and considering that's also the year that the game twisted wonderland got announced, I think we all can think of why the pages number started to drop.

So to me it doesn't look like that she's intentionally keeping the pace slow because she lost motivation, it's because she already has a lot of work to do with twisted.

I've seen someone say: "but why doesn't she go into hiatus if it is so much work? Wouldn't it be better if she put black butler in hiatus to work on twisted and then later return to finish it properly?"

Well she could certainly do that but you have to consider that twisted wonderland is a gacha game. Gacha games require continuous content even long after the main story ended. Events that can draw in the players to continue playing and pull for the characters or cards they like.

So if she were to put black butler in hiatus to focus on twisted, it would be a very long hiatus, one that she would probably not get out of unless she handed her job to someone else.

Now onto the chapters itself. While the pace is indeed very slow, one thing that I've noticed is that she puts more effort into the chapters art. And I don't mean the characters, they of course look great.

I'm talking about the backgrounds.

Back then, a lot of the pages had blank backgrounds with a certain few having a little background. Of course there were also a lot of pages with very beautiful and detailed backgrounds but I'm talking about the smaller ones.

While the newer chapters still have a lot of blank backgrounds, they do feature more panels with a background than the old ones did

There several panels in the new chapters where I would have bet that the yana could have put a blank background but she didn't.

So while the pacing is still slow, the chapters have a lot more detail art wise in my opinion. That alone says to me that she didn't lose interest in black butler.

There's probably more that I could talk about that I will later notice but I don't want to make this post too long.

Please remember, this is just my opinion.

I'm not trying to excuse the slow pace of the chapters by the way, I'm just as frustrated as everyone else. I'm just providing some of my thoughts as to why I don't think yana has lost interest in black butler

[marvelseries19]

WELCOME HOME

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x reader

Genre: Angst/Fluff

Summary: Years ago an accident changed your life completely, whether that is a good thing or not is yet to be determined. Now an offer might give you the chance to find out.

A/N: Hello everyone. It's been a long time, but here is the first chapter. I've read and rewritten this many times, just trying to find the best way to write it and I think it's pretty close. This will be subjected to further editing to sharpen the last details nothing major. I think. I don't know when I will update the rest of the chapters as they have yet to be written but, I hope I can manage my time well enough not to make you wait half a year for it. Remember that the first tag is the official one, every chapter, update, idea, etc. Will be under it. I hope you enjoy and feel free to give me feedback, ideas, or questions.

Warnings: +18. Murder, canon violence, and violence in general. Depictions of injuries. Minors DNI.

Word count: 1.4k+

Masterlist

[You do not have permission to repost or translate any of my stories or claim them as yours]

TWO YEARS AGO

The desolate island you are stranded on stands as a stark testament to isolation and danger. The air is thick with humidity, carrying the earthy scents of moss and damp earth. Your face and body bears the traces of all the pain and hardships you’ve endured these past five years but the small shelter near the edge of the sand is a testament to your willingness to survive.

You can hear the shuffling of the leaves on top o the trees and the chorus of the birds in the distance at your disturbance of their resting places on the tree branches while you’re running hoping you can get to the shore in time to be seen by the fisherman you managed to devise in the distance. 

Relieve washes over you when you noticed that your endurance had paid off. Finally, after five years of pain and loss, you were getting out of this island that had brought nothing but pain and trauma. 

The man on board gave you a blanket and something to warm you up along with a phone. Despite their inability to understand your language, they could still tell how much pain you were in and what might have happened to you on the island and could only imagine the things you had to go through. 

Once you were secure inside the boat they handed you a phone. The first thought that crossed your mind was calling your mom. Despite the difference you had back in the day, she was still one of the most important people in your life and you could only imagine how she suffered after you and your father went missing. You only hoped she hadn’t decided to change her number.

“Hello” Hearing your mom’s voice instantly brought tears to your eyes, you hadn’t heard her voice in so long and you were so overwhelmed by everything that it was hard to keep your tears at bay and to actually answer her. “Hello? Who is this?” She asks after your silence.

“Mom it’s… it’s Y/N” Your mother's heart sunk in her chest, she was just coming to terms with you and your dad being declared dead and the thought of this being a possibility was surreal.

“My daughter has been dead for five years” After the announcement that you were gone, all hope was lost in your mom's heart. It was a pain that no parent should have to go through so, this had to be some sort of sick joke. “Please don’t call here again” 

Moira was about to end the call when your desperate pleas reached her ears, “Mom, Mom, please just listen to my voice.” You were just begging her to believe you. “It’s Y/N… I didn’t die on the Gambit, I’m alive… I’m okay.”

“Y/N…” She whispered. “Y/N is that you?”

“Yeah Mom, it’s me!” Relief washed over your body once again. “Just please don’t hang up, okay?” 

Your mother's tears fell freely down her face. She has to sit down, her legs failing her at the news. “Oh, no. No, no, no. I won’t” She promised. “Oh, my beautiful girl, it- is your father alive?” 

It was your turn to feel your heart sink, the memory of burying your dad on the island coming to the front of your mind again. “No… No. He- he and um… He and Sara didn’t make it” You wished you could be there with her, in her arms just like when you were a kid. You were tired, cold, and hurt and after so much time on your own, you just needed your mom. 

She stayed on the phone for as long as she could and then when you finally came back to the city, she raced to meet you at the hospital. 

---

The news of your rescue was on every tv by now, including the ones inside the hospital.

“LOST BILLIONAIRE FOUND,”  In big white letters. The statement was displayed on the banner of the news channel. 

“Y/N Queen is alive. The New York City resident was found by fishermen in the North China Sea five days ago. Five years after she was missing and presumed dead following the accident at sea which claimed “THE QUEEN’S GAMBIT”. Images of the day before you went on the trip were being shown along with previous pictures that were taken a while back when you were just another rich girl making very drunken and public mistakes. A time that even you couldn’t recognize anymore. A few other photos of the boat were in the background as the man continued talking. “Queen is the daughter of New York billionaire Robert Queen, who was also on board but now officially confirmed as deceased.” 

---

Standing in front of the window, you look outside at what once was your home you try to process the last few hours. Physical discomfort gnaws at you as you grapple with the unfamiliar sensations of clean clothes against your skin and the dull ache of healing wounds. The contrast between the harshness of the island and the comfort of modern medical care is jarring, leaving you feeling disoriented and almost out of place.

As you stare at the still-busy streets below, your mind races with a barrage of conflicting thoughts. You are grateful for the medical attention that saved your life, yet you carry the weight of survivor's guilt. The memories of the friends you left behind on the island and the choices you made to ensure your own survival haunt your thoughts. You feel a profound sense of responsibility for the lives lost, a burden that refuses to be cast aside.

Outside your room stood a very concerned doctor along with your mom was discussing your medical condition.

“12 percent of her body is covered in scar tissue, second-degree burns on her back and arms. Her x-rays show at least 12 fractures that never properly healed.” The doctor couldn’t believe how much you had gone through, at least not by just looking at you. You seemed hunted yes but, you also looked well put together, you had developed muscle mass you had never been able to achieve before, and you were well nourished with all things considered of course. “Moira… I’d like you to prepare yourself. The Y/N you lost might not be the one they found” You could hear them from inside the room and you could only agree with the doctor's word. The things you had done, the things you went through, and the person you had to become to survive changed you completely, and coming back, seeing your family, your friends, and the people you had failed was all a reminder of that. 

But you had a mission and you would continue to do whatever it took to fulfill your promise to your father.

Save this city.

---

PRESENT

Perched atop a towering skyscraper, you survey the sprawling cityscape below under the soft luminescence of the moon. The air is crisp, carrying with it the faintest hint of city life—sirens, distant chatter, and the distant rhythm of traffic.

Your silhouette is a sentinel against the night sky, your figure outlined by the glow of the city below. Your attire blends seamlessly with the shadows.

As you gaze down, your mind is a whirlwind of thoughts—an intricate dance of reflection and purpose. You think of the things you’ve done, the alter ego you had created but the purpose of said alter was in doubt. It was meant to be to fulfill your father’s wishes but, there was something inside you that you couldn't explain nor control and it scared you. You wondered whether the green arrow was just an excuse to let the monster inside come out or if it was in fact what you intended at first.

The wind brushes against your face, ruffling your hair and carrying with it the distant scent of rain. You close your eyes for a moment, allowing yourself to be immersed in the sensory symphony of the city—the distant laughter, the melodic strains of music, and the underlying current of urgency that underscores every corner of this urban landscape.

Your reflecting time seems to come to an end when you feel someone's presence behind you. With ease and efficiency, you point your bow and arrow toward the threat.

“I could never sneak up on you…” You lowered your bow at the realization of who was in front of you. “Hello, Natasha…”

Taglist: @liliesandrosies @s1ut4nat @justyourwritter69

[7-wonders]

Time of Your Life

Michael Langdon x Reader (Mad Love Act II, Chapter XVIII)

Summary: It's something unpredictable, but in the end, it's right. I hope you had the time of your life.

Word Count: 3.6k

A note from the author (it's a long one): "Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)" by Green Day has been on repeat while I wrote this final chapter for a couple of different reasons. While one will be revealed literally the moment you begin to read this final chapter, the other is for obvious reasons. We've reached the end of Mad Love.

I've spent more time than I should have thinking about the note that I would write to accompany this finale. This story started way back in 2019, born of one of my first one-shots that blew up. Though I had never planned to write anything beyond that original first chapter, people kept asking for a second part. Thus, Mad Love was born.

So much has happened in the five years since I began writing this, both within the story itself and within my life. I've graduated college, started a new job, moved cities and slowly learned how to become an adult. Through it all, there's always been this story to come back to. No matter what got in my way of releasing the next chapter, or how long the breaks between releases were, there were always readers just as excited to learn what was going on with Michael and Reader as I was to write it.

My thanks to anybody who's ever read this story, and my endless gratitude to those who have liked, commented, and reblogged throughout the years. I've fondly read everything left in the tags, from the quickest of keysmashes to the most thought-out notes. The support of my readers was, sometimes, the only reason I chose to write and update, especially in the last couple of years when my interest in this fandom waned. You've seen this story through the highs and lows, and you've seen me, the author, through the highs and lows.

With the end of this story comes the end of my time writing for Michael Langdon, and I'll miss him so much. He was the reason I started this blog in the first place, and getting to get inside his head has been such a benefit in my growth as a writer. Thank you for everything, Michael, you awkward, puppydog Antichrist.

For the last time, I sincerely hope that you enjoy, and remember that likes, comments, and reblogs make my world go round.

Mad Love Masterlist

Seven months later

“Smile!”

It’s a phrase you’ve heard innumerable times today, whether directed at you or overheard among the groups that comprise the hundreds, if not thousands, of people gathered. Though you’ve been directed to smile a number of times today, and that doesn’t show any signs of stopping, you doubt you’ll end up being annoyed. After all, how could you be annoyed on one of the best days of your life?

Your arm tightens around Kate and vice versa as you both do what’s asked and smile brightly for the camera. It’s a bit awkward, having to figure out how to hold your diplomas with one hand while simultaneously trying to keep your mortarboards from hitting, but you make it work. Once Kate’s step-mom flashes a thumbs up, Kate insists on one more, and you giggle as she kisses your cheek.

“Mallory, get in a picture with them!” Brennan, standing off to the side, urges.

“Even though I’m not a graduate?” she asks teasingly. 

“Still a bestie,” Kate retorts, wiggling her fingers in Mallory’s direction. “C’mere!”

She fits herself between you and Kate, the missing puzzle piece to your trio, as the three of you pose once more. Mallory will get her own graduation day soon—she only needs another semester of credits to graduate, and plans on returning to school in the fall to finish her English degree. There have already been plans discussed of how you’ll celebrate her own accomplishment, but she’s insisted that talk of this can wait. Today, she said, is for you.

And today, you’re so, so happy.

Sometimes, you never thought that you would actually see graduation day. Between the routine breakdowns every semester that made you ponder why you actually wanted your degree and how weird and supernatural your life had become in the latter two years of your post-secondary education, graduation seemed so distant, like a barely achievable fantasy. But in the blink of an eye, you found yourself sitting among your peers and listening to the same type of cheesy “this is where your life begins” speech that you heard at your high school graduation a few years prior.

This graduation is so much sweeter though, because you had to work for this degree. Through the late nights and tears, the well-researched essays and the hastily finished group projects (the bane of your existence), the relationship drama and the threat of apocalypse—you persevered, despite it all. You earned this accomplishment. This time around, the speeches sounded so much more inspirational, the air filled with more excitement, and the celebrations more deserved.

The best part of the ceremony? Walking across the stage to receive your diploma and looking into the crowd to see Michael standing and cheering with your family, tears in his eyes and a grin on his face. When you waved at him, his smile had somehow grown, and he whistled loudly.

Now, you eagerly search the faces of those streaming around you outside, hoping to see someone familiar. While you found your family right away after the ceremony officially concluded, Michael split off from them for a bit, making you wait to find the one person you wanted to see most. When you finally see your favorite pair of blue eyes, you peel off of Kate and Mallory and run to him. Michael opens his arms and happily wraps you up in a hug, the both of you swaying from side to side.

“Well?” he finally says, pulling away from you to fix your mortarboard, knocked out of place when it hit his forehead. “How’s it feel, graduate?”

“Feels pretty damn good,” you declare, flipping open your diploma and gazing down at it proudly. Your name and your major are written ornately, declaring that you’ve fulfilled the requirements of your degree. Michael kisses your cheek as he looks it over, tracing the engraving of your school’s crest on the inside cover.

“I’m so proud of you.”

You become unexpectedly emotional at this, tears pricking your eyes for the first time today (honestly, you thought this would happen sooner) and your throat growing tight. While you know that he’s proud of you all the time, hearing it on the occasion of the biggest accomplishment of your life so far makes it extra special. “Thanks, love.”

He kisses you chastely, acutely aware of the fact that your family is watching. It’s sweet, how eager he is to impress them. You’ve told him multiple times that he doesn’t need to try—he succeeded at making them like him from the get-go, simply due to how he treats you. Michael, of course, didn’t grow up with any idea of what a semi-healthy family dynamic is, and still believes that he needs to continually earn their approval. It’s a stark difference from the Michael that he was veering towards becoming a few short months ago, and you’re so thankful for it.

He wasn’t lying that night in New Orleans when he said things would be different from that point on, and that included his attitude.

Even after your return from your fall trip, as Michael officially put a stop to the apocalypse plans and started charming and convincing investors and Cooperative members alike into believing that Satan’s will had changed, you could tell that there was something weighing heavily on him. It was in the way that he looked at and acted toward you, the way that he hugged you in the morning and held you at night—like he was so worried that he was going to lose you, or like you would disappear if he looked away for too long. After asking him time and time again what was wrong, only to receive the same answer, that he was fine, you finally sat him down and asked for the truth.

“Honesty, remember?” you said. “We promised that we were going to communicate now.”

Michael considered what he was going to say for a while. You sat in silence with him for almost twenty minutes, holding his hands in yours and waiting patiently for him to gather his courage. Finally, he spoke.

“I saw the future,” he said. “The future that would have happened if I actually ended the world. It was a complete wasteland, devoid of almost all life. Those who survived the initial fallout were riddled with tumors and sores from the toxic air. They did terrible things—stealing, murder, cannibalism—just to survive. Nothing, though, was as terrible as me. I became…a monster. Someone cruel, someone evil, who enjoyed playing with the lives of those left like they were nothing but puppets. The only thing that I cared about was my father’s approval, and with the world ended and depravity everywhere, he encouraged me to lean into that depravity.”

Michael stopped when he became choked up, and his hands began to shake. One of your hands went to his cheek in comfort, only for him to let out a sad, distressed sound at the act. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“In that future, you—you died,” Michael blurted out.

“I did?”

He nodded as tears began to run down his face and make his eyes look impossibly bigger. “You died, and I couldn’t save you. I was too late, and left with nothing but your corpse. The image has haunted me ever since I saw it. When I look at you, all I can see is how lifeless you looked in my arms.”

It made sense, then, why Michael treated you the way he did. If you had a vivid image of the future, one where he was dead and you were forced to bear witness to it, you’d likely have acted the same way. To see him in this much pain over what he witnessed hurt you in turn. Sniffing back tears to try and remain the strong one (because Michael needed comfort in that moment much more than you did), you took his hand and placed it on the side of your neck.

“Do you feel my pulse, thrumming away under your fingers?” you asked, waiting for him to nod before moving his hand to your chest. “Feel my breathing? I’m not dead. I’m here, alive, and with you. And if I have it my way, I’m not going anywhere.”

Michael pulled you to him, and you straddled his lap in order to get as close to him as possible. If it took you plastering yourself to him in order for him to hear the truth in your words, then you were going to glue him.

“Yes, you saw a future where I died. But what matters is that this isn’t our future. Our future is this one, where you’re changing your path to ensure nothing like that happens. And it won’t, okay?”

It’s taken a lot of work and reassurance to get Michael to believe that the future you were on a crash course for is no longer even an option. With Satan’s recent acceptance of Michael’s alternate plan—“the long game,” Michael likes to call it—he’s finally starting to come around.

“There he is!” Kate says triumphantly when you pull Michael back to your group. “We thought you got lost.”

Michael smiles. “I was just taking my time.” He turns to Brennan and grins, abandoning holding your hand so that he can greet his friend (his friend! Michael has a friend!) with a hug. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks, man!” The joy on his face at Michael, notoriously not the best at touching, initiating a hug is evident, and you and Kate share a fond look over your respective boyfriends’ shoulders. Never did you think that your sheltered, half-demon husband would become good friends with a self-described frat bro, but stranger things have happened.

“Are you guys coming to the bonfire tonight?” Brennan and a couple of his closest Lambda Chi brothers had planned a farewell beach bonfire for tonight. It’s supposed to be pretty lowkey, according to Kate, with maybe thirty people at most—rookie numbers for an event hosted by Brennan, but ones that make the event more appealing after a long weekend of graduation festivities.

You shrug. “Maybe. We’re going to dinner with my family after this, so I’m not sure how long it’ll take or how peopled-out we’ll be.”

“Oh, you have to come!” Kate pleads. “What if this is our last night all together?”

“It’s not going to be! We have plenty more adventures in store,” you assure her. After all, it’s not like she and Brennan are going anywhere yet, not with Brennan finding an engineering job in the area and Kate getting a job offer out of her internship.

“But you and Michael are going to Europe in a month, and by the time you get back summer’s basically over and you’ll be off to grad school.”

You smile at the reminder of what’s in store for you. Michael was finally making good on his promise to sweep you off your feet with the “date” of a lifetime. Greece, Italy, England, and France were on the docket for your European adventure, but one of the perks of having an Antichrist husband who controls the world’s most powerful people is that you can change your plans to whatever you want them to be.

And grad school! While you’re excited to be in a new area, and to continue your studies in a field you love so dearly, you’re most excited for Michael’s future. In addition to what he’s already been doing with the Cooperative, he’s also planning on taking a couple of classes at the same school that you’re attending to find a major he’s passionate about. His orientation day is the same as yours, and you’re a little too excited that you’ll get to take your student ID pictures together. For the first time in a long time, Michael seems happy and excited for what’s in store. As for you, you couldn’t be more thrilled that he’s discovering who he is outside of being Satan’s son, which is all you’ve ever wanted for him.

“You said it yourself though, Europe’s not for a whole month!” you say to try and cheer Kate up.

She pouts and drags Mallory to her after a moment of thought. “Okay, but Mallory goes home tomorrow night! What if that’s it for us?”

It won’t be, since you and Kate literally have the tickets already booked for a trip to see Mallory in New Orleans before school starts in August. But despite your best efforts, the nostalgia gets to you. This likely will be the last time all three of you get to hang out together here, at the school where you all met. The longer you go without speaking, the wider Kate’s smile grows. Oh, she knows you too well!

Luckily, you’re saved by a member of your family grabbing your arm. “We’re going to head back to our hotel to get ready for dinner. We’ll meet you in an hour, alright?”

You smile and nod. “Alright, love you!” 

Hugs are given to both you and Michael (who still looks delightfully pleased that these people don’t all hate him simply by virtue of him being alive) before they split off. The conversation with Kate is forgotten for the moment as you make the rounds with some of your other friends, going through the routine of congratulating and smiling for pictures over and over again.

“We should probably get out of here if we want to be on time for dinner,” Michael eventually says into your ear. 

You nod after checking your watch to see that he’s right and head over to Kate, wrapping your arms around her from behind in an attempt to scare her. Instead, she just laughs and turns around so that she’s facing you.

“Hey, we’re leaving,” you tell her.

“But we’ll see you tonight, right?” she asks hopefully.

“I don’t know.”

“Please?” Kate’s eyes grow wide, and she clasps her hands in front of her. “Please please please?”

You sigh. “We’ll see…”

Naturally, you end up sitting in the car next to Michael as you pull up to the location Kate sent you at that damn beach. 

The sun’s just barely set, the horizon still a light yellow as the last rays of light try to cling on before giving way completely to the night. It silhouettes the scene below, where your friends are clustered in loose groups around the fire that’s already going strong. Their laughter, along with music playing from a speaker someone must have brought with them, can be heard even up here, at least a hundred feet away. It makes you eager to join them, and you reach into the back seat to grab the bag that you packed with a large blanket, some drinks (both with and without alcohol, for wherever the night leads you), and a couple of snacks.

“You made it!” Mallory cheers when you and Michael walk hand in hand to the group, Kate jumping up to hug you like it’s been years since she’s last seen you—one of your favorite traits about her.

“What can I say? Someone’s pretty convincing,” you tease.

Kate laughs triumphantly. “Damn right, I am. C’mon! Have a seat.”

Doing as she says, you spread out the blanket next to Kate, Brennan, and Mallory, lay your drinks and food out so that they can be shared, and get comfortable.

The night passes like most get-togethers with your friends do: with lots of laughter. And when there’s not laughing, there’s talking. The topics range from anything to everything—the simultaneous feelings of excitement and fear at what’s next, sharing memes, updates on job hunts, new music recommendations. Being able to fit fifty different conversations into one hours-long period is one of your (many) favorite things about your friends. You, Kate, and Mallory eventually end up on the topic of your Europe trip, both wanting to know all of the details now that you’ve gotten it mostly planned.

“How are you going about the Greece portion?” Kate asks.

You tilt your head in confusion. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

Kate fumbles for a moment, unable to find the words. “Mal, help me out here.”

Mallory nods, apparently knowing exactly what Kate means. “You know, are you going to look at all the history and culture, explore some ruins and visit museums? Or are you going to live out your Mamma Mia fantasies, endless days spent on the beach, swimming in the crystal blue ocean, and,” she casts a look at Michael, currently chatting with Brennan and Jack, before waggling her eyebrows, “dot dot dot?”

You and Kate both laugh, with Mallory joining you after a moment of trying to keep up her straight face. “How long have you been holding on to that one?”

“Actually, only when Kate tossed the question to me.” She shrugs and sighs. “It’s hard being a comedic genius, but somebody’s got to do it.”

“But for real!” Before Kate can ask you the question again, another song starts up and she lets out a pleasantly surprised shout. When she looks at Brennan to get his attention, he’s already looking back at her. “Of course, you snuck this song onto the playlist.”

“I had to,” he says bashfully. “Beach bonfires get me feeling all sentimental.”

“We met at a beach bonfire,” Kate says to you and Mallory. “Labor Day weekend of our sophomore year! This song comes on, and suddenly I find myself talking to a guy who also thinks Perks of Being a Wallflower is one of the few movie adaptations that’s just as good as the book.”

“How did I not know that!” Mallory exclaims. 

“Brennan, you’re such a sap,” you tease.

“Only for my lady love.” He crawls over and kisses her, so naturally it’s your and Mallory’s duty as her best friends to gag when he does so. “So? May I have this dance?”

Kate goes along happily, allowing Brennan to pull her up and spinning with him in the sand. Michael joins you now that his conversation’s been broken up, settling back down on your blanket and pulling you against him so that your back is to his chest. You both watch your friends dance for a bit, a few others on the opposite end of the fire getting up to join them.

“Do you ever think about it?” Michael asks you, bringing your attention away from the scene in front of you.

You look at him curiously. “Think about what?”

“How we would have met if I wasn’t who I am. What our life would have been like.” He smiles, a slight movement tinged with self-deprecation, and takes a drink of his water before continuing. “I do. In my head, we met on the first day of class. It was probably some gen ed—English, I usually imagine. I would have sat next to you because it was the only empty seat left, and by the end of the second week, I would be asking you for help since I’m not the best at writing. We probably would have started out as friends before I got up the courage to ask you out on a date.”

“That does sound nice,” you admit. 

Though you won’t say it aloud, sometimes you’ve thought the exact same thing. How, if he was just a regular guy, your love story would have been something simple, something normal. You never would have been kidnapped (twice), or poisoned by Satan, or forced to marry the Antichrist, falling in love with him despite your very best efforts. You wouldn’t have had to spend so much time and energy worrying about the world ending while trying to figure out how you, a mortal with no sort of powers, could stop it. There wouldn’t be some alternate future out there where the world did end and you died, according to Michael, a painful and traumatic death.

“You know what, though? If I had the chance, I don’t think I’d change our story.”

He looks at you in bewilderment. “Even after everything we’ve been through? After everything I’ve put you through?”

“Have the things that we’ve gone through been crazy and oftentimes fucked up? Yeah, absolutely. But for every bad, there’s been so much good.” 

With Michael snapping for the first time and accidentally hitting you came going on your first “date” with him and learning that he really likes mint chocolate chip ice cream. When you were in the trenches after Dinah gave you the potion to reverse the effects of the poison apple, Michael never left your side and cared for you diligently until you woke up. The Cooperative meeting you attended, the one where you watched Michael incinerate a man with his mind, seemed a fair trade-off for getting to experience your senior homecoming with the man you love.

“I love all of you, Michael, demonic parts and all. If you weren’t the Antichrist, then you wouldn’t be the man that I love. So yeah, I’ll take everything we’ve been through. Because everything we’ve been through, we’ve done together.”

Michael’s laugh sounds surprised, as though he was waiting for you to reveal that you’ve been lying this whole time. “I love you too.”

While you and Michael had an impromptu heart-to-heart, more of your fellow beachgoers got up and started dancing as songs came and went. The song changes once more and this time Mallory jumps up with a whoop, grabbing Kate’s outstretched hand and spinning herself under it. As the two start to move with the beat of the song, they catch your eye and begin beckoning you over. Laughing, you shake your head and settle yourself more firmly against Michael.

“Aren’t you going to go dance?” he asks.

“No.” You smile and kiss him, happy to feel him smiling too. “I’d rather just stay here with you.”

It’s the truth, both for your current situation and for life in general. You don’t have the gift of divination like your husband and best friend—nor any powers at all—but you don’t need them. With Michael by your side, you already know that your future’s looking very bright.

•••

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