#and personally i haven't been to the park but i've been to other places in the guadarrama mountains and i can't recommend them enough

[jackredfieldwasmyjacob]

Hola, a friend and I are thinking about doing a sightseeing trip to Madrid in the middle of november. Do you have some insider tips what we should see? :)

hi anon, yes of course !!!

so, one thing about madrid, it isn't a monument city but a walking city. i'd say walking through the city center, centered around the two main squares, puerta del sol and plaza mayor (both also massive tourist hotspots so expect a ton of people). just walking around that area, around arenal street, calle mayor (main street), carretas street and others is enough to get a feel of the oldest part of the city (also called 'madrid the los austrias' or 'austrian madrid', when spain was ruled by the habsburgs). it's my favourite area honestly, alongside the barrio de las letras, which you can get to walking or in a few metro stops. its name translates to 'neighborhood of the letters' because a ton of writers lived here, and you can find phrases from spanish literary classics engraved on the streets, it's lovely.

apart from that central area, other cool spots i would really recommend you should check out is gran vía (busiest street in the city, it literally translates to 'broadway', it has a ton of theatres as well), malasaña (hip arts district, love the vibe, also it's so beautiful and there's always stuff going on, really nice place to go out at night as well), chueca (next to malasaña, it's the queer district!!! also very beautiful), debod (my actual favourite place in the city!!!!!! it's this hill that holds an egyptian temple - the temple of debod - that was gifted to spain after the aswan campaign, you can visit it and also the views from the city from here are lovely, you can find the best sunset here), el rastro (the largest flea market in the country, you can visit it every sunday, you can find anything here. also nearby, in the cuesta de moyano, there's a book fair also open only on sundays), retiro park (our main park, really pretty, it's very nice to just chill; it also has a lake you can row on, and cool statues and stuff), and the royal palace (it's open to the public if that's your thing, but the area around it is very very nice, i always end up here when i hang out with my friends).

now let's talk museums!!!! madrid has a ton of museums, i'll tell you the ones i recommend but depending on what you're looking for there's probably something for you. important to note is that at least the prado and the reina sofía museums are free everyday one hour before they close !!!!!! important !!!!!! check in case there's other museums that do this, but i'm unsure, i think it's those two and maybe the thyssen?

so. the main three art museums in madrid are the prado museum (the counterpart of the louvre, that sorta vibe), the reina sofía museum (our modern art museum, only stuff from picasso onwards), and the thyssen museum (ngl i haven't been here, it's a private museum made out of the collection of this one countess). all of them (more or less) are in the prado boulevard, which is also very nice to walk by so it's always lovely to go there even if you don't enter the museums. nearby there's also the national archaeological museum, my personal favourite one.

other smaller but also cool museums that i love are the madrid history museum (the facade is insane, also has tons of cool maps of the city), romanticism museum (an old romanticism-era palace with romanticism-era paintings and other stuff), cerralbo museum (underrated af; it is the personal collection of this one noble, the building itself is absolutely insane), and the sorolla museum (if you like sorolla this is your place!).

(i'm nearly done i swear)

if you have time and want to visit a nearby city, my recommendations are: alcalá de henares (really close to madrid, it has the second oldest university in spain, with a medieval feel to it, it also has the madrid archaeological museum - it was a roman foundation under the name of complutum - and most importantly, it's known for being the birthplace of miguel de cervantes, writer of don quijote!!!! you can visit his house, it's now a museum :), el escorial (deep in the mountains, it has the monastery of el escorial, maximum icon of spanish renaissance, it was the winter palace of the monarchy and holds the royal crypt, where most of spanish monarchs have been buried), toledo (oh if you love medieval cities you'll love this one. it was the first capital of spain, and it is most known for being the city that during the medieval times had christians, muslims and jews living peacefully. there's tons of churches, mosques and synagogues to visit, and it is very well preserved, with narrow steep cobblestone streets, cannot recommend it enough), and segovia (toledo is to the south of madrid, and segovia to the north! it is most famous for its roman aqueduct, the best preserved and highest in the country, and it also has a ton of historical buildings, including its alcázar, a palace that inspired the sleeping beauty castle !!!!!). also it's not a city but there's a national park in madrid, the sierra de guadarrama national park and it's super beautiful, it's this lovely mountainous area perfect for hiking or just chilling, and depending on when in november you come, you might see snow!

as a final warning!! i don't know where you're from but in november madrid is probably colder than you are expecting so make sure to pack some extra layers just in case !!!

[bonetrousledbones]

fuck it since my birthday is in like one day i'm gonna use my birthday wish to tell y'all to look at the shit going on in southern Appalachia right now after Hurricane Helene. look at it and talk about it and spread resources about it like wildfire because nobody else fucking is and it feels like we're on our own out here.

there are people who are stranded in hazardous areas that are still safer than trying to leave by driving on the increasingly hazardous roads. i'm personally going into my third day without electricity at this point, and haven't been able to get any gas for a generator to even keep our fridge working. there are very few places with power or running water, and cell service has just barely been restored in the last hour. ground crews are working hard to repair things, but there are many, many areas that are entirely inaccessible that may not receive these fixes for several more days if not weeks. i'm afraid my own neighborhood might become one of those areas if repairs don't get to us soon, and since we're much more rural i have a difficult time trying to be optimistic about it.

we're very far inland. i guarantee you damn near everybody here was expecting a little more rain and wind like we usually get during hurricane season, if they even heard about the hurricane beforehand in the first place since most people only got about a twelve hour notice before landfall- after several major areas had already been flooded. our terrain protects us from most major weather events- most locals have never encountered a single tornado or legitimate tornado warning in our entire lives. nobody i've talked to or heard from about it seems to have had any idea that it would be this bad. everybody's wishing that they took it more seriously, but we've never, ever had to before. i've seen people comparing it to Hurricane Katrina and honestly i'm not sure if that's all too inaccurate. today while looking for a single working gas station i drove by a military helicopter parked in front of the elementary school i went to when i was little.

please for the love of god, talk about us. talk about the good memories you had here or the beauty of our mountains, and talk about how devastated we are as we watch historic structures, buildings, and entire towns get wiped from the face of the earth like they were never even there. stop dismissing us as uneducated hicks and rednecks and hilllbillies and fucking help us.

r/Asheville resource/updates megathread (Asheville is the largest city in western North Carolina)

How to set up disaster roaming for cell service

WLOS Live updates

Duke Energy power outage map

WNC Landslide Map

Hotels accepting locals

Emergency shelter locations

I live in western North Carolina so all of my own resources are centered around that. If anybody from the other impacted areas has additional sources they'd like to add, please don't hesitate to do so.

[last-words-ofashootingstar]

Reminder; Don't Forget

(Scrap)

❥Park Seonghwa x fem reader

➯a/n: i want park seonghwa to be mean to me while wearing a tank top, that is all ➯a/n: i'm going to start posting drafts that haven't been touched in over a month so they don't just collect dust, enjoy ya filthy animals

✃ "You need a reminder of who's good girl you are."

✫彡wordcount: 2.7k

(>ᴗ•)♡´･ᴗ･`♡genre: YANDERE SMUT (hinted mafia/crime au)

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: THIS IS A DARK FICTION. EMPHASIS ON DARK FICTION. i do no condone pretty much anything seonghwa does in this fanfic. this is very dark, the darkest i've gone so if you are uncomfortable with that check out something else. we have here: dark/yandere/savior complex hwa, degrading, unsafe physical restraint, choking, destruction of personal property, shaming, dubcon, extremely possessive behavior, some ddlg themes, slapping, praise, yelling, captivity, crying, knifes thrown at reader as a punishment(none hit!!), threats of violence, manipulation, mind break, hair pulling, mention of edging, face humping, throat fucking, messy bj, not proof read

MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI

"Did you forget your place, hm? It certainly seems like it, acting like a slut when you're mine!" His grip on your neck tightens, a chuckle leaving his furled lips as you grab at his tank top desperately trying to force out apologies through the pressure he puts on your wind pipes. "What, you can't even say that you're sorry? Another's man's number in your phone and you can't tell me you're sorry?"

Oh he's evil, he loves to see you squirm. And squirm you do: pushing against his heavy weight on your hips and clawing at his arm as your lungs beg for air.

He lets go, arms crossing his chest as he leans back nonchalantly, every bit of his weight in your lap as you heave. "Hwa-seong...Hwa, I'm s-sorry! I thought, thought, it'd be okay hes just a f-friend-"

   "You thought," he laughs cruelly, "are you even capable of that? Dumb little girl," he slaps your jaw, lightly, but it still makes you face the wall with a look of defeat.

"I think for you, is that clear?" You nod, tear stained cheeks gleaming in the light.

"Hey, am I clear?" he shouts this time, making you jump.

    "Yes! Yes, Hwa, clear..."

   "There's my good girl—" He brushes back your hair, cooing as you lean away, "you're the prettiest girl I ever laid my eyes on, and you think men don't see that? You think they're blind? Or are you really just that naiive, pretty baby?" His cool finger tips trail down to the blooming bruise on your neck, pressing softly to make you whine. "Give me your phone."

   He's up and off your body in a second flat, letting you catch your breath as you slowly manage to pull yourself to your knees. He doesn't press you to hurry or yell, he doesn't do anything but sit back in the bean bag chair he gifted you for previously good behavior and watch you like a hawk. His legs spread and hands on his knees, resisting the urge to snatch you up. When you turn and see him on the other side of the room, you simply outstretch your arm with the old prepaid phone he provided you with a few weeks ago. "Bring it here," he commands lowly, eyes tracking your every move as you slowly move towards him on your knees- having no energy to stand.

He spreads his legs further, a silent instruction. You slot yourself between them and hold the phone to him tentative, shoulders relaxing as he takes it. "Thank you, beautiful. See, isn't it easy when you listen to me?" He unlocked the phone quickly, eyes flicking to you darkly when you go to take it back. "Got something to hide?" You shake your head, looking down as he takes your hands and places them on each of his thighs. "Don't move."

So you don't, simply breathing deeply to replenish your abused lungs while he combs through your phone with a fine toothed comb. You know you haven't done anything truly wrong, but it seems like he has different definitions to you.

"Good girl..." He whispers to himself as he sees the message of you shooting down the idea your friend tried to corrupt you with, to go out without him. "Stupid, but good..." He continues as he reads through every message with the phone number of the man. He monitors everything you do, it was only a matter of time before he got around to checking all of the numbers in your phone and their owners.

"Aw, you really are just naiive, huh? My poor little angel. Cant even tell when someone's trying to take you away from me-" He tuts his tongue, setting the phone down on the floor. When you go to pick it up, he kicks your hand away. "Sorry, Baby, you can't be trusted with big girl stuff yet. Gotta learn first." He smashes the device beneath his booted heel, a squeal passing through your lips at the loud metallic crunch.

"Hwa!" A pouty whine comes before you can stop it, tears welling up in your eyes all over again. When he cocks his eyebrow up, you cower between his legs, stuttering quietly. "Sorry, m'sorry..." He swipes the destroyed phone to the side with his boot before tapping your hip with it. You shuffle quickly, untying his shoes with a shaky breath.

"I know you get bored baby, but I can't have others corrupting your mind. I'll get you some new books, maybe even a TV for in here if you're extra good." You whisper a soft thank you, and a promise you will be as you set his shoes off to the side neatly.

"Look up at me, Doll. C'mon don't be angry," you look up at him as softly as you can, a groan of affection bubbling past his throat, "there's my pretty little thing." You rub your fingers on his jean-clad legs in an attempt to ground yourself as he looks down at you like a predator that's spotted it's next meal.

"Aren't you so happy you have me to take care of you? Who knows what others would do to that pretty face of yours— not to mention that pretty cunt."

A heat immediately finds it way to your face, and he laughs deeply. "Oh, please, don't be coy. You know as well as I do that if I didn't take you out of there that that little hole would be ruined in an hour. I saved you."

You hide your face in his lap, mind racing. It's true that he's more gently than other people you've had the dis-pleasure of encountering in his line of work. But that doesn't make him any less over bearing and obsessive. His possessiveness bordering on ownership. Sometimes you're truly thankful he scooped you up before anyone else could touch you- other times you curse him for it.

He rubs the back of your head gently, leaning up in the slouching chair, like he can sense your thoughts. "You aren't going anywhere, Baby. You're mine- until the day you die and even after that. Even God himself couldn't pry you away from me. You are mine. Do you understand that?" You nod into his lap, a quiet 'yes,hwa' muffled by his jeans. "Such a sweet thing," he whispers before gripping your hair and pulling you up, earning a gasp.

That glint in his eyes- "Hwa, wait, wait—" he did no such thing, standing up with his clothed crotch in your face, pulling your hands up to his belt.

"You need a reminder of who's good girl you are-"

"No-"

"No?!" He laughed in disbelief, nails digging into your scalp as he makes you look up at him, the stretch of your neck uncomfortable as he cranes it up. There's a sharp hunger in his eyes, "you're so cute -so, so, so, cute when you're defiant... but I'm not in the fucking mood. Get your ass up," he tugs you up by your hair, ignoring the sharp yelps that tremble past your lips.

     "Ple-ase don't take me downstairs! I'll be good, I'll be good!"

    "It's okay baby, we aren't going downstairs," he positions you back to the wall and backs up, pushing you back when you try to follow and apologize. "I'm too tired." The glimmer of hope is stomped out as he unlocked his side of the nightstand. "You can take your punishment here."

   "Hwa... I'm real sor-" A skinny throwing knife that thuds into the wall next to your head shuts you up quick, a squeal replacing your pleas.

   "Been looking after you so much, I'm rusty-" He throws another with a groan, hiding his smirk as you jump, "stay still baby, I'm out of practice." You can't help but duck as it thunks into the wall just above your head.

     "Stand up straight!" His booming voice shakes you to your core, and you stand as straight as you can manage with the knot forming in your gut. You grip the wall with your finger tips, looking down at your feet so you don't see the sharp objects coming. You've found that it's less fearful that way.

Knife after knife is thrown, each dull thump making you twitch as they're buried into the drywall in the outline of your body.

When they finally stall, his sock clad feet come into view, his curved knuckle lifting your chin. The flame in his eyes has faded to a simmer, an almost fond one. "Are you done being a brat? Or should I let my hand slip next time I need target practice?"

   "I'm done..." you speak with a gulp, body still frozen against the wall lest you move and graze against the blades.

He seems to sense your thoughts once again, cooing softly as he notices your tense shoulders. "C'mon, sweet girl," he carefully pulls you straight out from the wall and twirls you around.

He wraps his arms around under yours and grips your shoulders, holding you close to his chest and resting his chin on your head. "Your life in my hands... Such a delicate thing you are." You eyes trail over the outline of your body, traced with throwing daggers. "If you just behaved, I wouldn't have to scare you. It's the best way for you to learn, my love. That fear you feel when we go downstairs, when I have you pinned up- that's the fear you would feel every waking moment without me. Just be a good girl, and let me protect you..."

"...Okay, I'm sorry, Hwa... I don't know why I act out," You don't know if you're telling the truth anymore. It is even acting out? You sometimes think you have a right to.

Maybe— "Maybe you like it when I'm mean to you."

You don't know what you would have thought, but that wasn't it. You think he likes being mean to you. He always finds a reason to punish you: whether it be with bone chilling fear or being pushed to your sexual edge and then repeatedly denied.

    Some days, he's softer with the sexual aspect of his obsession with you.

He turns you back around and shoves you to his knees, right back into his clothed bulge where you started. "I want to claim you, I'm going to claim you. Every part. Take it off now before I decide to skull fuck you." Your breath hitches in your throat, lip trembling at his threat, knowing full well he will follow through.

Today is not one of those days, you realize.

You hands quickly find their way to his belt, unbuckling the golden buckle and letting it dangle, the button undone next and the zipper followed. He didn't bother to kick his jeans off, or even pull them down. Only his cock out, twitching to life infront of you inpatiently. "You belong to me, I'm gonna get that through your thick skull" -he flicks your head- "even if I have to use my cock."

He rubs against your cheek, sighing out in pleasure at the feeling of your hot embarrassed face. "Say my name," he whispers deeply, eyes swirling with an unreadable mix of emotions.

"Seonghwa," you pant out shyly, eyes closed as you feel him rutting against your face, his pre cum smearing on your cheek bone. His grip is continually becoming softer, loving as he lewdly humps your head. Your hands find purchase on his sock clad feet, helping you lift up your body into him. "Seonghwa," it comes out as a moan, and a thick groan comes from him in response.

He steps back just an inch, looking down at your tear stained face, his fresh pre-cum glimmering on the side of your face.

His full lips curve into a smile, his previously angry facade fading as quick as it came when he busted in the door earlier, while he lifts you to the bed and lets your head hang.

He's even beautiful when viewed upside down-

    "You make it hard to ever leave your side, pretty girl. I could spend the rest of my life buried in any of your gorgeous holes, I love you so much."

"I love you, Hwa. I-" Your breath catches in your throat as the words tear through your throat. "I do want you to claim me, I want to know I'm yours." One of your hands seems to sprout a mind of its own, wrapping around the base of his thick and smooth girth. "Let me take care of you, and you take care of me."

A groan dies on his lips, shuddering as you slowly stroke him, the words you speak shooting through his heart and down to his balls. "Let me be your good girl. Please, I know I can!"

The fear he instilled in you just moments ago festered into a need to please, to solidify your place by his side so he would never leave. He never would dream of it- leaving you. You are his heart and soul personified. You hold his entire being in your hands, and you have no idea.

"Yeah? Gonna be my good girl again? Make it up to me?" His heart flutters as you nod enthusiastically, your mouth opening wide for him and tongue lolling out."Fuck, that's a good girl," he spreads his legs around your dangling head, slim fingers gathering yours to your chest and holding them ever so softly as he slips right down your throat.

The hot, velvety skin encasing him makes him moan loudly, squeezing your hands to ground himself and keep himself from fucking your skull like his life depends on it. But, oh, how he wants to—

"Good fucking girl, that's it, just like I taught you," you gulp around his overwhelming length, eyes closing as you focus on breathing through your nose, the smell of his body wash somehow soothing to your fried nervous system.

   He holds himself back as long as he can, thrusting in your throat slowly and basking in the warmth of it. But as your saliva builds, nowhere to go, and the wet and lewd squelch of your throat grows louder, he can no longer do that. He intertwines his fingers with yours and lets you squeeze tightly, a soft growl letting you know his arousal is at a peak before he loses all control-

   His hips draw back and slam into you, the head of his cock poking at the very depth of your throat and making you gag, and the noise just stirs him on, going again and again and again to hear that sweet sound of you choking around him. Sticky saliva tainted with the white of his pre-cum drips from the corners of your stretched mouth, dripping up your face. It seems like the onslaught will never end, but he has bigger plans for his building release.

     The moment your throat is free of his cock, you draw in a large gasp, all of the wetness in your mouth dripping like a waterfall, letting you heave as he watches with dark eyes. Not that you can see the lust driven look on his face, if you were to open your eyes you'd be blinded by spit and cum.

  He discards his pants and top as he lets you catch your breath, cooing all the while about how good you just did for him. He uses the softness of his tank top to wipe away most of the filth on your face, and you finally peek your eyes open as you feel him lift you.

   You swear there's hearts swirling in the darkness of his eyes as he scans your messy face, a permanent smirk plastered on his features. "Pretty girl, you're such a mess for me," you can only pant in response, leaning into the palm he places on your cheek as he lays you down right-side-up, letting your head collide with the soft pillows.

The moment he put a pillow under your back, you knew you were in for a long ride.

And by the end of it, you wouldn't forget who you belong to.

[briefinquiries]

Luke Alvez x Reader: Promise You'll Call

Prompt: hi first i just want to say i love you writing so much. Do you think you could write something where luke finds out the reader’s significant other is harming them (mentally or physically)? I understand this is a rough topic but i was just going through a hard time with flashbacks. I understand if you can’t, thank you!

Word count: 7k (idk how this got to be so long)

Warnings: DV mention (in detail), blood tw

A/N: ayyyyooo, it's been forever since i've posted, but enjoy! i wanted to post, so i haven't proof read yet, so please excuse any grammatical mistakes, I'll go back and fix tomorrow :)

Luke honestly didn’t mean to eavesdrop. It just so happened that he was still in his truck, finishing up the burnt bagel he’d made in a rush this morning when you pulled into the parking garage. At first, Luke didn’t recognize that it was you in the black BMW that stopped in the middle of the garage, right behind his own truck. But when he peeked through his rearview mirror, he saw you sitting in the passenger seat, tucking a curtain of hair behind your ear. 

Luke’s stomach flipped, the same way it did every time he saw you. 

Except this time, he actually felt guilty for it, because he was pretty sure the guy driving the car was your boyfriend. Luke was new to the team in the last year, and while he’d done a pretty good job getting to know everyone at the BAU, he still hadn’t met partners or family yet. You were one of the few agents who never talked about your personal life at work. 

But even though Luke couldn’t see the man driving the car, as soon as you cracked open the passenger side door, he certainly heard him. 

Was it even considered eavesdropping if the entire parking garage could hear? 

“I’m not done talking!” The man’s voice echoed across the entire garage, causing Luke to straighten in his seat.  

“Will you lower your voice?” You snapped back in a hushed tone, before looking around the space, clearly embarrassed. 

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do!”

“The whole city is going to hear you, Justin, please.”

“I don’t care if they do– get back in the fucking car!”

Something in Luke’s chest began boiling at the sound of his tone. Did he always speak to you that way? He fought back the urge to peel himself out of his truck. You were his coworker– not his girlfriend. It wasn’t his place to knock this guy down a few pegs, no matter how badly he wanted to. 

“I have nothing else to say to you right now–”

“Good, don’t talk. Fucking listen for once in your life!”

“You’re being ridiculous,” you said, voice eerily calm. It was like you were almost used to this kind of fighting– like you knew the exact steps to take to attempt de-escalating him. “I have to get to work. We’ll talk about this later.”

“If you shut that fucking door, you’re walking home. I swear to–” but the man’s voice was abruptly cut off by you shutting the door. 

Luke secretly felt proud as he watched you turn and walk away from the BMW without looking back. 

Suddenly, music blared through the speakers of the car before Luke heard tires squealing while the car drove away. Luke remained in place while he heard your footsteps fade into the distance, not wanting to embarrass you further or let you know he’d been heard the entire conversation that just played out. 

But while he gave you a moment to catch the elevator without him, Luke didn’t like the feeling that settled in his stomach. If your boyfriend acted like that in the middle of the bureaus parking garage, what the hell was he like behind closed doors?

…

You fought back tears for the entire elevator ride. Thank God no one got into the lift with you, so you at least had a moment of peace before having to pull everything together. 

Justin woke up mad– again. That had been a regular occurrence for the last year. And for the last month, he’d been convinced you were cheating on him. With zero evidence aside from a “hunch” he was apparently going on, there was no amount of convincing or location sharing or reminding him that your job came with sporadic hours that would change his mind. And things were getting worse. Each day it felt like he was angrier– more out of control. And each day you told yourself that you could handle it. You were literally trained on how to de-escalate murderers, for God’s sake. But this morning, when you woke up to not one, but four flat tires on the car you parked in the garage, you knew things were escalating again. 

As the elevator climbed, your phone suddenly pinged in your pocket. You pulled it out to read the text back from your mother. You’d reached out to her earlier, letting her know what you’d suspected– that Justin had slashed your tires so that you couldn’t take your own car to work. 

Mom: He wouldn’t do that. I know you are going through a rough patch, but Justin’s a good man. Did you reach out to that couple’s therapist I told you about?

You let out a sigh. 

Typical. 

Justin had worked at the local hospital with your father before he retired. As a world-wide renowned cardiovascular surgeon with a strong handshake and charismatic demeanor, he could do no wrong in your parent’s eyes. 

In the few instances you actually had reached out to them for support in the last year, the burden always fell back on you. What had you done to piss him off? What were you doing to mitigate the situation? You should have learned by now not to reach out to either one of them. You wouldn’t get the response you wanted. 

The elevator slowly climbed and you knew you had to pull it together. Deep breath in, deep breath out. You reached the fifth floor and stepped out of the elevator, trying to forget about everything that had just happened. 

Within an hour, a new case rolled in. You sat around the round table and listened to Emily give the rundown while Garcia clicked through slides of gruesome crime scenes she blatantly refused to even glimpse at . You tried to pay attention– to compartmentalize your home life like you had always been so good at doing. But as soon as you heard that the case was in Idaho– across the country, worry began creeping back inside of you. One of the biggest problems that Justin had was your constant travel for work. Although he was allowed to put in consistent, 16-hour days at the hospital, he got upset every time you told him where your next case was.

Which, honestly, you understood. When you took the job with the BAU, you never expected to have much of a life outside of it. You were gone more than you were home, and you knew that sort of lifestyle wasn’t for everyone. Except when you met him, Justin had known what you did for work. You didn’t lie or keep it a secret. He said he was okay with the traveling and the long hours. Until he wasn’t. 

Suddenly, there was a gentle tap on your shoulder. Every thought racing through your mind blew away and you refocused on the present moment. 

“Everything okay?” It was Luke asking. 

You looked around to realize that everyone else was packing up their belongings to board the jet. Turning to face Luke, you nodded. “Yeah, sorry. Just daydreaming, I guess.”

“Daydreaming with those crime scenes in the background?” he asked, nodding towards the gruesome picture still up on the screen. “You’ll have to teach me how to do that.”

You let out a breath of laughter. Luke hadn’t been on the team for long, but you realized within a few weeks of knowing him that he always knew how to make people laugh– no matter what was going on in the world around you. That was one of the many reasons he fit in so effortlessly with the team. 

“We can do a mindfulness class sometime,” you joked. 

He smiled, dimples popping from his dark, smooth skin. “I’d attend consistently.” 

Something fluttered in your stomach.

You just chalked it up to stress and nerves. 

…

Luke was supposed to be reviewing the case on the flight. Instead, he couldn’t stop watching you. Out of all the open seats, you chose one right across from him. You had the file open on your lap while your eyes scanned the page. Luke could tell you weren’t reading either, though, because the jet had already been airborne for almost half an hour and you hadn’t flipped the page. 

Meanwhile, Reid, who was to Luke’s right, had already read the entire file, front to back, probably three times by now. 

“Can you give me the Sparknotes version?” Luke leaned over and asked him.  

“What’s Sparknotes?” Reid asked, no hint of humor in his voice. 

Luke’s jaw fell open. “Aren’t you supposed to be a genius or something?”

“I don’t really think that intelligence can be measured or quantified in the way humans have tried to in the past. Technically I have an eidetic memory, which allows me to recall information with accurate precision. Meaning I’d actually have to see the information once to be able to recall it. I’ve never seen a Sparknote… or whatever you called it.”

A smirk spread across your lips, your eyes darting up to meet Luke’s. 

Luke shook his head in disbelief, offering you a small smile before turning back to Spencer. He’d been with the team nearly a year now and he still hadn’t gotten used to Reid’s demeanor. He wondered if he ever would. 

“You never had to Google the summary of a book when you were younger?”

Reid gave Luke a perplexed look. “Why would I do that if I have the book in front of me?”

“Because it’s faster.”

“I can read–”

“20 thousand words a minute,” Rossi interrupted as he walked by with an empty cup of coffee. “Yeah, we know, kid.”

He placed a free hand on Luke’s shoulder, patting it gently. “I have no idea what prompted this conversation, but trust me when I say it’s not worth it.”

Luke heard you stifle a laugh as Rossi walked past. 

…

You’d been on edge the entire plane ride. Justin never responded to your message, letting him know you’d be away for at least the next couple of days on a case. Maybe he was in the OR today, or maybe the hospital’s cell service was just spotty. 

Or maybe he really was just that mad at you. 

You knew the way he treated you was wrong. You recognized the red flags that had been staring you right in the face. But slashing your tires? Maybe your mom was right– maybe there was another explanation. Because no matter how much he yelled, or got in your face, or tried to intimidate you, you really didn’t think there was any way he could do that. 

You hated being this distracted while you worked. Emily was having to repeat instructions for you, JJ was throwing you worried glances, Spencer had asked three times now if you were okay… It was like you were the one being profiled in Idaho. 

Of course that wasn’t really the case, though. You were in Sun Valley because of a string of murdered women, each left dumped and discarded in ditches off the parkway. Each with ligature markings around their necks. Each with evidence of sexual assault. And each deserving of your undivided attention. 

You tried your best to give it to them. But in reality, when the case finally wrapped up six days after you’d arrived, you knew that everyone had picked up your slack. 

And while you were grateful to be part of a team that could pick up the slack of others, you hated that you had to utilize it. 

‘Unbelievable.’

That had been the only message you received from Justin the entire week you were away. You sent a practical novel back– trying to apologize and explain your side. Then you tried calling at least twice a day. But each time you went straight to his voicemail. Normally, space wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Except the jet was about to land back at Quantico, and you were terrified of what was next. 

Not to mention you had no ride home. 

“Hey,” a soothing voice suddenly said, stirring you from your thoughts. 

When you glanced up, you saw Luke gesturing towards the open seat across from you. 

“You mind? Everyone else is asleep.”

For a moment, you looked around the jet and noticed that Luke was right. Practically everyone was sprawled out or curled up against a window, passed out. You couldn’t blame them. It had been a rough case. If circumstances were different and you weren’t currently overthinking everything in your life, you’d probably be passed out too. 

Eventually you turned back to Luke and nodded. “You couldn't sleep?” You asked him. 

He shook his head. “Nah. I never sleep on planes. I think it’s a control-thing. I can never calm myself down enough to actually sleep.”

You frowned. “Now that you say that, I’ve never actually seen you sleep on the jet.”

“And you probably never will.” 

You grinned back. “Does that mean I’ll never get to know if Luke Alvez snores?”

“I’m afraid that information is classified,” he smirked. 

“Such a tease.”

Luke let out a low chuckle before casually leaning forward in his seat. “I did want to see if everything was okay, though.”

“What do you mean?” You asked, probably sounding too defensive. 

He shrugged. “I mean you just didn’t seem yourself this week. Not in a bad way or anything– just off.”

Shit. You knew it had been noticeable. But even still, the small part of you that was hoping it wasn’t deflated at Luke’s words. You actually debated telling him everything, which was so out of the norm for you lately. Ever since you and Justin had been having problems, you’d turned into a shell of who you used to be– you never hung out with Penn, Emily, or JJ anymore. You never had time for getting your ass kicked at chess on the jet with Reid, because you were too busy worrying if Justin was mad at you for leaving. You never joined everyone at Rossi’s evening dinners because you felt guilty for spending nights that you were home away from the house and Justin would never go with you. 

Suddenly, the harsh reality slapped you right in the face: You didn’t like who you were becoming. You didn’t like who you were when you were with Justin. The thought made you want to curl up and hide from the world– from Luke. But there was something about the way he looked at you– so earnest and intentional, like he was hanging onto every word, like he actually wanted to be someone you could trust, that felt prevented you from doing so. 

“You’re chewing on your lip,” Luke pointed out. “That’s how I always know when you’re overthinking.”

You relaxed your jaw instantly. That’s how he always knew? How often was Luke paying attention to your moods and mannerisms? The thought made something flutter in your stomach, but not in the anxious way it had been fluttering recently. This was softer– less scary. 

“Stupid profilers,” you muttered under your breath, desperate to break through whatever tension was boiling between the two of you. 

It was enough to earn a chuckle from Luke. “We are pretty annoying, aren’t we?” He sat back in his chair, cracking his knuckles casually. “You know, my last two girlfriends have broken up with me because of this job. One was serious– the last one, not so much. But still. They said it was too demanding– that I couldn’t make them a priority. I don’t know if you remember the Orlando case last fall. The one with–”

“The fourteen year old boy. We were too late to save him, but we got his sister,” you finished for him. “I remember.” Not only did you remember, but that very same case had been burned into your brain for months. 

Luke nodded. “Yeah. Well, when we got back from that case, that’s when she broke up with me. She said she was trying to deal with me being gone all the time. But if I couldn’t even be present when I was home, she was done. God, I had nightmares about that case for weeks– still do sometimes.” 

You gazed at him sympathetically. Unfortunately, his story wasn’t that out of the norm. Aside from you, everyone on the team in a relationship was already married. Once you had a solid, established relationship, most times it was doable. But the reality was, it was hard to date someone and be part of the BAU. 

“I’m sorry,” you said softly. 

“Don’t be,” he waved you off. “They were right. I put my job first. And I’d like to think that the person I’m supposed to be with would understand how important this work is to me, even if each case takes a little piece from me.”

You thought about Justin– always criticizing, always making comments and remarks about how much you worked. You thought about the last few weeks and all the late nights you’d sat and done unnecessary paper at your desk just to avoid going home to him. 

“Or maybe you’d actually want to make the person you’re supposed to be with the priority,” you suggested softly without meeting Luke’s gaze.   

Luke had just been so vulnerable with you– telling you about his relationship problems like you were someone he could confide in. And the scary part was, you liked it. You liked being someone he came to with these types of things. You wished he’d do it more. 

Justin never confided in you– never let you confide in him, either. You stared intently down at your lap and wondered what it would feel like to have someone who would. 

“Justin and I– we’re having some issues.”

Finally, you dared to look up at Luke. His brown eyes looked black in the dimly lit jet, but they still glistened as he listened. “He’s just so mad at me,” you whispered, voice faltering. You’d barely said anything, but you could already feel all of the emotions you’d been masking and forcing down start to bubble towards the surface. “All the time. And I don’t know what to do about it. I don’t know if I want to do anything about it.”

Luke leaned forward again, his elbows resting on his knees while he wound his fingers together. “I heard him when he dropped you off in the garage the other day,” Luke said honestly. Instantly, you felt heat rise to your cheeks. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, I swear, I was just waiting in my car because I was early and well–”

You took a shaky breath, embarrassed beyond belief. “Anyone in the vicinity would have heard him that day.”

Luke’s voice lowered. “Does he always talk to you like that?” 

Yes, you thought. 

“No. That was just a bad morning.”

Luke nodded, but pursed his lips like he didn’t quite believe you. “I know it isn’t my place, but you don’t deserve that. I mean, fuck, no one does. But especially you.”

You smiled softly, trying to believe that he was right– that you didn’t deserve Justin’s harsh comments or anger. And on some level, you knew you didn’t. But another part of you always wondered why you didn’t try harder– why you didn’t care if he ended things or not. 

“Thanks Luke.” 

He nodded, leaning back once again. You gazed out the jet window, seeing familiar city lights in the distance. You’d be landing soon. And then it was back to whatever grim reality faced you at home.   

 “You don’t have your car today, do you?” Luke asked suddenly, stirring you from your thoughts. 

You shook your head. “Uh no. When I went to leave for work, my tires were flat.”

“All of them?” he asked, sounding shocked. 

“All of them.” 

“What’d you do, park in a pile of glass?”

“No, I think they were slashed.”

Luke’s eyes widened, a wave of concern washing over his face. “You don’t think–”

“I have no proof,” you said, knowing instantly what Luke was implying before he even said it. “But yes.”

“Jesus–”

You took a slow, steadying breath, doing your best not to fall apart in front of Luke. 

“I think your place is on my way home,” Luke said after a moment. “I can give you a ride.”

You looked up, instantly ready to decline the generous offer. Luke was good– too good. And you didn’t want to ruin whatever type of friendship was blossoming between you by being too needy right from the start. 

“Don’t even try to say no,” he spoke first. “Please let me give you a ride.”

By habit, you chewed on your lower lip. 

“Don’t overthink it,” he said quietly. “I wouldn’t have offered if it was going to be an inconvenience.”

You felt guilty– you really couldn’t help it, and you weren’t used to accepting help from others. But something about Luke’s tone was so earnest, you believed him. He wouldn’t have offered if he didn’t expect you to say yes. After a moment, you nodded slowly. “Okay,” your head hung, gaze falling to your lap. “Thank you.”

The two of you spent the final minutes of the jet ride sitting quietly, gazes fixated out the window as the pilot landed you safely back in Quantico. When the lights flickered on, your other team members stirred in their seats with exhausted sighs and groans. You grabbed your go bag and followed closely behind Luke as he stepped off the plane. 

“Need anything inside?” he asked. 

You shook your head. “No, I’m good.”

With that, he adjusted the bag on his shoulder and veered towards the parking garage with you just strides behind him. 

Luke made small talk on the ride home. It was like he knew how nervous you were to see Justin and was trying to lighten the mood. You mostly just smiled and nodded in response, and felt grateful when Luke didn’t pressure you or point this out. Only when you got close enough to offer him instructions to your house did you actually utter any words. 

Then, before you knew it, Luke was putting his truck in park on the street near your house. You swallowed thickly as soon as you saw Justin’s car in the driveway and a single light still on in the house. 

The harsh reality was that you had no idea what to expect when you walked through those doors. But here… now… sitting in this truck with Luke, you felt safe. It was hard to leave that. 

But of course you had to. Luke couldn’t wait here all night. 

“Thanks for the ride,” you said softly, trying to conceal how shaky your voice sounded. 

“I don’t mean to overstep,” he said quickly. “But… I just– I mean, I don’t feel good about leaving you here.”

You shook your head quickly. Again, not wanting to feel like a burden. “I’m fine. It’ll be fine. He can be controlling and he gets angry– but he’d never hurt me or anything.”

Luke nodded, although the furrow in his brow told you he didn’t quite believe you. 

“You have my number. Promise me you’ll call if you need anything.”

You weren’t used to this kind of generosity. But before you could overthink things, you nodded earnestly, believing that you would actually call him if it came to that. If nothing else, Luke had proven how trustworthy he was in the last few hours alone. 

“Alright,” he nodded carefully as you slid out of the front seat of his truck, feet colliding with the pavement. 

“Thanks again,” you did your best to muster up a genuine smile. 

The corner of his lip tugged up slightly, but concern was still plastered over his face. “See you on Monday then.”

“Monday,” you agreed. 

With that, you closed the door– putting a literal wall between you and the only person who had made you feel safe in the last week. 

You turned towards your house, the knots in your stomach tightening with each passing moment. When you reached the front door, you turned one last time to see Luke leaned forward, eyes trained on you. Your chest softened when you realized he was waiting for you to get inside safely before driving off. Offering him one, final wave, you turned to unlock the front door. 

When you first stepped inside your house– everything looked normal. The light above the stove was on and the fridge hummed softly. You placed your duffel bag on the floor and stepped into the kitchen for some water. As you filled up a glass, you began to wonder if maybe you’d overreacted. Maybe Justin had been busy with work this week– just like you’d been. 

But your wishful thinking was short lived. 

Because the second you turned away from the faucet, you nearly jumped out of your skin at the sight of Justin– standing on the other side of the island counter. You hadn’t even heard him approach you. 

“Jesus, Justin–” you gasped, setting your glass of water down on the counter. “You scared me.”

Instead of replying, his eyes just narrowed. He looked angry– angrier than you’d ever seen him. An eerie chill crept down your spine, sending an eruption of goosebumps across your skin. 

“Where were you?” he asked, voice menacing and icy. 

“I told you– there was a case–”

His hands slammed down on the counter, causing you to take a step back as you jumped. 

“Don’t lie to me!” 

“I’m not lying–” you said quickly, trying to keep your own voice even. You knew how important it would be to remain calm. 

But despite your efforts, Justin swiped his hand across the counter, sending your cup of water colliding into the wall, where it shattered. 

You winced, unable to completely contain your shock. Because despite the yelling and the screaming, Justin had never done that before. Something inside of you told you that you had to leave… now– but you couldn’t react in time. Because before you could even turn your body to head towards the door, he was already turning the corner around the island, eliminating the only barrier between you and his violent outburst. 

“Where are you going, huh?” he challenged. “Gonna take off again?”

“I was at work, Justin– I told you that.”

He took another step closer to you, sending you a step backwards. Like a choreographed dance, you alternated steps until you heard the crunch of glass beneath your shoes. You’d reached the wall. You were cornered. 

Panic flooded through you. And suddenly, logic went out the window. You couldn’t think rationally– you couldn’t problem solve. Everything just went blank. 

“Who brought you home tonight, hm?” 

He was close enough that you could smell the alcohol melting off his breath. You lowered your head, trying to appear as submissive as you could– because what the hell else were you supposed to do?

“I saw the truck– the white one? Who the fuck was that?”

“Just someone from work,” you answered quickly. 

“Just someone from work, huh?” He took another step forward. There was practically no space between the two of you now. “Look at me when you talk.” 

You were trembling so hard, you couldn’t follow his commands as fast as he wanted. 

“I said–” he snapped harshly. Instantly, you felt fingers wrapping around your throat, forcing your head up. Justin’s hand squeezed, cutting air off. “Look at me when you talk.” 

His grip tightened. “Go ahead– say it. Tell me where you were.”

You opened your mouth, but you couldn’t even get air in your lungs, let alone formulate words. 

Justin’s eyebrow raised. For a moment, he actually looked like he was enjoying this. 

“No?” he asked. “Nothing? Are you finally done lying to me?”

You tried to inhale– but when nothing came, more panic settled in your stomach. You squirmed, needing air fast. Your hands raised to grab his forearm, desperate for him to let go. You tried to breathe again– but when air still didn’t come, you dug your nails into his skin without thinking– scratching him, hoping that would help. Except, you were so panicked, you had no concept of how hard you actually scratched him. Your nails broke through the skin– causing him to release your throat.  

“You bitch,” he hissed. Before you could even take a breath, you felt something collide with the side of your face, sending your head whipping to the side. 

Your head hung for a moment while your brain tried to comprehend what was happening. 

Justin had hit you– and there was currently something warm dripping down the side of your head. As you were hunched over, you felt something then collide with your stomach– hard. His knee maybe? You couldn’t tell–

“You let some man drive you home to my house!” he yelled, hand closing around your throat again. This time, he launched you backwards, whipping your head into the wall forcefully. “And then you come in and you fucking lie about it?” 

You grasped at his wrist– not scratching, but trying to get him to loosen his grip. You couldn’t breathe– no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t breathe. 

“Please,” you tried to say, but all that came out was a gasp. 

You attempted to look at him– hoping he could see how sincere you were being. But when you gazed up, your stomach just dropped. His eyes were menacing– black, empty. He looked like he could kill you right here and now and not care in the slightest. 

Justin’s grip tightened, you could feel each individual finger as it dug deeper into your skin, cutting off your airway– crushing your windpipe. 

You were going to die– You were going to die and there was nothing you could do to stop it. 

You dug your nails into his skin again, you flailed– you slapped with what energy you had left. But nothing was working. Your vision was blurring– dark edges starting to create a tunnel around the world. He was too strong– and you were going to die. 

Until suddenly, with no warning, Justin’s grip loosened. 

Instantly, you slid to the floor– coughing and choking as you gasped for air. 

You waited for whatever would come next– a kick to the ribs, something clattering over your head. But instead, you heard his footsteps retreating. 

You willed yourself to look up– through foggy vision clouded by tears, you saw Justin backing out of the kitchen, his eyes wide. 

“I-I–” he stammered. “I didn’t–” For a moment he paused, like he was frozen in place, before shaking his head. 

You were too focused on trying to breathe regularly again to make sense of the look of remorse seemingly on his face before he darted out of the room. 

Although he was out of your sight, you knew Justin couldn’t be far. And you knew that, despite the fact that you were sputtering and could barely breathe, you had to get out of that house. With what little strength you had left, you pushed yourself off the floor. Your back throbbed from being thrown against the wall, while a wave of dizziness overcame you. You all but staggered to where you’d dropped your bag earlier, doing a quick scan of the room before grabbing the strap and hauling it over your shoulder. 

You hurried to the front door, hand on the knob, when you paused. 

Where the hell were you supposed to go?

And then Luke’s words from earlier flashed through your mind. 

Promise me you’ll call if you need anything. 

You couldn’t– you thought. You’d already asked him for so much. But he did make you promise. And honestly, you couldn’t think of anyone in the world aside from him that you’d talk to about what had just happened. 

Suddenly, you heard movement from upstairs. 

You didn’t have time to toggle back and forth. You had to make a decision. 

Before you could second guess anything, you grabbed your phone from your pocket, pulled up Luke’s contact info, and hurried out the door. 

…

The second your name flashed across his screen, Luke knew he shouldn’t have left. Granted, he was only four minutes down the road– but he wished he had listened to his gut and just stayed. 

He slid his thumb across the screen. “Hello?”

He was met by an eerie silence.

“Hello?” he repeated. 

“Luke–” Your voice sounds so small– so choked up. “I’m sorry– I–” 

He waited a moment, hanging on to each word you spoke like it was a prayer. 

“Could you– maybe… could you come back? I’m so sorry– I–”

Luke was already turning his truck around before you could finish your choppy sentence. 

“I’m on my way,” he assured you. “Stay right there, okay?”

He was pretty sure he heard you agree before the line went dead. But regardless, Luke was back at your house in an instant. The second he put his truck in park, he was already undoing his seatbelt and launching himself out of the car. 

He had no idea what he was walking into– all he knew was that he had to get you out of there. What the hell could this asshole have said to you to have you so shaken up over the phone? 

He imagined knocking on the door– finding you tear streaked and trembling. It made his insides roar with anger before even seeing you. 

Except, when Luke turned the corner of his truck. He didn’t have to reach the front door to see you. He didn’t even have to walk across your lawn. Instead, you were hunched over on the curb, face buried in your hands while your whole body shook. 

Luke’s shoulders fell– your name tumbling from his lips as he approached you.

He had prepared for trembling– he had prepared for crying. But what he wasn’t prepared for, was seeing your face, bloodied and bruised when you looked up at him. 

He stopped dead in his tracks, everything inside of him turning to ice at the sight. 

“Where is he?” Luke managed to choke out. His voice sounded muffled and distant in his own ears. 

You let out a shaky breath before attempting to smile– like you were trying to somehow convince him that you were okay. The cut on your lip stretched as you did, making you wince. “Inside,” you whispered. 

He nodded once. As much as he didn’t want to leave you out here alone, Luke couldn’t help himself. 

“I’ll kill him,” he said through gritted teeth. And just like that, he was off– taking long strides towards the front door. He had no idea what your house looked like– no idea where he’d find that asshole lurking. All Luke knew was that he was going to pay for what he did to you. 

He had tunnel vision– the only thing in front of him was a blind, rageful desire to hurt that piece of shit as much as he had hurt you. He was narrowing in on the front door– just a few steps away… until he heard something break through the fog. 

It was you– your voice so soft and broken, calling out to him desperately. He turned around, blinders widening to see you standing on the lawn, chest heaving and tears falling down your cheeks quickly. 

“Please Luke–” you begged. “Please don’t. I want to leave. Please, can we leave?”

He paused, but only for a second before all of his anger melted away in an instant.  

He nodded, knowing right there– in that moment, that he would do absolutely anything for you at the drop of a hat. In a few quick steps, he was back at your side, hand hovering near your lower back just in case you needed extra support. 

“We can go,” he said gently, purposely keeping his voice as calm as he could. “Let’s get you in the truck.” 

After only a couple of steps, Luke noticed that you were limping. He felt a wave of tears burning behind his eyes. He was frustrated– angry. With your boyfriend, but mostly with himself. He knew he shouldn’t have left. He knew it in his gut. He should have been there– maybe if he’d stayed, he would’ve heard the yelling– he could’ve stepped in before things got this bad. 

“Can you get up, okay?” he asked as he opened the passenger door for you.

You nodded, reaching up for the handle bar. He watched as you winced– just the extension of your torso causing your breathing to increase. 

“You’re alright,” he said. “Let me help.” 

He made sure to wait for you to nod before he placed his hand against your lower back. Ever so gently, he supported your weight so that you could hoist yourself up into the front seat. 

“There you go,” he said, once you were safely tucked inside. He closed the door and turned to head to the driver’s side. Just as he did, he caught a flash of movement from the direction of your house. When he looked, he saw Justin standing on the front porch. Even from the road, Luke could see the tears glistening in his eyes. 

He felt the familiar anger from earlier resurfacing inside of him. It tightened in his chest– burned in his stomach. He envisioned himself crossing the lawn– grabbing Justin by the shirt collar– launching his fist right into his jaw. 

Luke inhaled deeply before looking back towards you. You were staring at him, crying again, your face riddled with fear. Because you knew exactly what he was imagining, and it made you afraid. 

Luke’s insides softened. 

No. 

He would not just be another man who scared you tonight. Luke wanted to be someone you felt safe with. 

Without looking back, he hurried along the front of his hood and climbed into his side of the truck. He put the truck in drive and calmly accelerated down the road– away from everything that had ever hurt you. 

…

It was only when you were in the safe confinement of Luke’s truck that you realized how bad you were shaking.  

The further you got from the house, the more the events from that evening sank into your brain. You’d seen this before with victims– once their adrenaline calmed down and they actually realized they were safe, fight or flight wasn’t protecting them anymore.

There was so much you wanted to say to Luke. But you could barely muster up the strength to breathe, let alone explain yourself. 

But you knew that you had to say something. You inhaled shakily and picked at the loose hangnail on your thumb. “Luke, I’m so sorry,” you said, breaking through the thick silence. 

He adjusted his grip on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white from how hard he was holding on. He hadn’t said a word since you’d been on the road and you found yourself wondering what was going through his mind. Was he angry? Annoyed? Frustrated?   

Luke grimaced. “Please don’t apologize,” he said softly. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

You bit your lip to keep any tears from spilling out– you’d cried enough in front of Luke for one day. “I just meant that I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”

“You didn’t drag me into anything.”

Something in his tone just seemed so off– so curt. You desperately needed to make this right. 

“Is there a hotel or something on the way to your place? You don’t have to go out of your way– you can just drop me off, I don’t want to inconvenience you–”

Luke hit the breaks, his truck coming to a stop as he pulled over on the side of the road. After shifting the gear, he turned in his seat to look at you. 

“I’m not inconvenienced by you. And I’m not dropping you off at a hotel. You’re coming to my place, and I’m going to clean up your cuts, and then I’m going to make you dinner.”

“Luke–” you started to protest but he shook his head. 

“Please,” he said, voice cracking. “Please, let me do this– Otherwise… otherwise I won’t be able to forgive myself.”

Your brows furrowed. “Forgive yourself? What are you talking about?”

Luke shook his head, his dark mop of curls unruly after the long day. Slowly, he lifted his head and gazed out of the windshield, like he was deep in thought. 

“I knew something was wrong– I mean, I heard the way he spoke to you in the garage. After you told me he slashed your tires… I just knew. I knew something bad would happen when I dropped you off, but I tried to convince myself I was just being dramatic– or paranoid. But I knew– and I didn’t listen. I left you, and you got hurt. So please, let me make you dinner and give you a safe place to be tonight. It’s the least I can do.”

Your mouth hung open– whatever you thought was going on in Luke’s mind, it wasn’t that. Before you could think twice, you leaned forward in your seat and gathered his hand in yours. His warm skin touched yours– sending shockwaves through your entire body. 

“None of this was your fault,” you assured him. “In fact, you've shown me more kindness in the last few hours than I think Justin has shown me in the last year. I’m so grateful it was you who came and got me tonight, Luke.”

The words came out so easily– probably because of how true they were. 

His gaze flickered towards yours– eyes glistening with unshed tears. He spun his hand, so that your palms pressed against each other, before lacing your fingers together and squeezing gently. 

“You know I’ll never let him hurt you again, right?” he asked. 

His words sent chills down your spine. You did know, but you weren't sure if you were ready to admit that or not. So instead, you changed the subject.

"Are we almost to your house?"

Luke shrugged. "Not really- I'm closer to Stafford, probably thirty five minutes."

You frowned. "Stafford? That's the opposite direction. I thought you said my place was on your way home."

A smirk crept across Luke's face. "That might've been a tiny lie."

"Luke!" you exclaimed.

He let out a laugh. "What? I knew you wouldn't have gotten in the car otherwise. Am I wrong?"

You let out a huff of air, hating the fact that he was right.

As he put the truck in drive and continued down the road, you squeezed his hand back.

[howlett-variants]

"I've got you"

a/n: I love Charlie Kenton sm, he deserves more love. Also, I haven't written an X reader fic in like 10 years forgive me.

Prompt: Charlie gets his ass kicked, thankfully he has you to patch him up! Words: 2,975 Tags: gn!reader, post movie, hurt/comfort, Charlie is very dog coded to me and I don't know how to tag things anymore

You could have never guessed your day to go like this. Work had been boring as all hell. The only thing keeping you going was the thought of getting to hang out with those you cared about most over at Tallets Gym. Bailey was basically your closest friend at this point. She was kind and caring but could always match your energy- especially if that energy was being angry with Charlie. Speaking of Charlie, seeing him was always one of the best parts of your day. Even when he was being an idiot, or impulsive, or both- he always knew how to put a smile on your face. Which was much needed after a boring day at work. You even looked forward to seeing Max most days. The kid was the spitting image of his father when it came to personality, which definitely had its downsides. Max was probably the most independent eleven-year-old you’ve ever met- he was always determined to do stuff by himself. Even if he ended up asking you or Bailey for help in the end. Things were never boring with the Kentons. 

Today would be no exception.

Your phone rang mere moments before you were about to park in front of the rundown gym.

“Hel-” You started, but were quickly cut off by the sound of your good friend Bailey in a panic.

“Charlies hurt.” “What?” “Max just called, and he’s freaking out-” You could hear her voice quicken on the other end. 

“Slow down Bail, where are they?” “Some gas station twenty minutes outside of town, they were on their way back from a fight and-” She gave you a few more vague responses, clearly not sure of the situation herself, but that was okay. You could work with that. There weren’t that many gas stations on that side of town, plus it would be hard to miss Charlie’s massive green truck. 

–

Ten minutes, and a few potential road laws broken, later- you finally spotted the truck. You pulled up next to them, attempting to not fully slam on your brakes. Your panic had slowly grown over the last few moments, and panicked driving is not a good idea. 

Tossing the door open in a quick motion, you stepped out and ran over to see Charlie sitting on the tailgate of his truck. Max was next to him, holding a makeshift ice pack to his face. 

“How’s he doing?” You plant your feet in front of them, doing your best to keep your arms at your side to not fret over him. At the sound of your voice, Max looked over with a smile. Charlie attempted to look at you, but winces the moment he tried to open his eyes.

“I’m fine- just a black eye.” Charlie replied weakly, still unable to fully open his eyes. 

“He might need stitches this time.” Max’s smile fades, returning to a worried expression. 

“Let me see.” Max nods before jumping off of the tailgate, making room for you to take his place. You carefully move to sit next to him, close enough for your legs to touch. You reach a hand up to his face, slowly peeling away the ice pack. It took everything in you to not visibly tense at the rather nasty wound on his face. Whoever beat him up this time actually used a weapon, brass knuckles, if you’d have to guess. He had a large gash right next to his eyebrow, reaching almost to his ear, as well as a black eye and numerous other bruises all over his neck. You can only imagine the amount of bruises he was hiding on the skin you couldn’t see. “Yeah…that’s going to scar. Where’s your first aid kit?”

“Don’t have one…” He mumbled.

“Come again?” You can’t help but sigh, “With how much you get beat up-”

He avoids your glare and refuses to respond, which is Charlie for ‘You’re right, but I will not admit it’. With a slight roll of your eye, you reach into your back pocket with your free hand and take out your wallet to hand to Max. “They should have bandages, or at least some cotton balls I can use to stop the bleeding. Grab what you can- if nothing else, your dad can save it for later.”

The kid nodded as he took your wallet before running back into the gas station. It probably wasn’t your smartest idea to just hand your wallet to an eleven-year-old, but you knew Max would at least grab what you asked- even if he came back with a few extra snacks.

Seconds after he left your eye-line, you heard Charlie suck in a sharp breath. The sound caused your full attention to turn back to the man next to you. He was no longer sitting upright, but instead leaning on the side of the truck as if the metal wall was the only thing holding him upright. You were quick to notice the stiffness in his shoulders was far worse than a few seconds ago, and you didn’t have to ask why to know what was going on in his head. 

“Char, the kid just watched you get your ass kicked- again. You don’t have to act all tough. Hell your face is bleeding like some kind of horror movie victim. He knows that you’re not alright.” It broke your heart to see him like this. He was always putting on a front of the big strong unfeeling douchebag, but you knew better. You also knew better than to question it. Max was a strong kid, but he was still just a child. No kid should have to watch this dad getting beat up as much as Charlie did. You moved your hand from his face to his shoulder, using your thumb to rub soothing motions in a small attempt to comfort him. 

“How’d you get here so fast?” He questioned, completely avoiding your concerned comments.

“Max called Bailey. Bailey called me. Here I am.” You moved your free hand up to his face, attempting to inspect the wound a bit more. Fingers lightly holding his chin, making it easier for you to move his head if needed. He couldn’t help but lean into the small touches. “I think I still have some pizza in the car. It’ll be cold by now though.”

He let out a light chuckle, mouth struggling to turn into a smile without pain. “Maybe when my face is done bleedin’ out.”

You smile at him, grateful to hear that his sense of humor was still intact. The moment he winces again, your smile falls. “What the hell happened?”

“Just some assholes that I used to owe money to, what else-” He pouts, “I would have been able to our run em but-”

“Max…”

He didn’t have to even look at you for you to understand what he meant. From what Bailey had told you in the past, getting his ass kicked out of the ring was nothing new for Charlie. He was constantly coming back to the gym with cuts and bruises, and the occasional broken bone, but ever since he regained custody of his son, he’s tried to be a lot more careful. He had always been reckless and almost uncaring when it came to what happened to him, but now he had someone to protect. Thankfully, the Atom fights had helped pay off practically every debt he had ever owed, but there were still some people who had it out for him that couldn’t give less of a shit if his son was watching or not. 

The hand on his face slowly moved to the back of his neck, before you carefully pulled him closer to you. You positioned his head to rest comfortably on your shoulder. Your other arm snaked around his back, holding him in a secure hug. “It’s okay…I’ve got you.”

Your hushed tone was all he needed to melt completely into your hold. His face hid in the crook of your neck, like it was the only thing keeping him in one piece. His arms found their way around you, holding onto the fabric of your shirt like a lifeline. Charlie Kenton was many things. He was a boxer who had seen his fair share of violence, as well as a man who routinely went to shady places for robot fights, but he was also a father who had no idea what he was doing. To him, there was nothing more terrifying than the idea of his son watching him bleed out (and potentially die). Whoever had attacked him this time didn’t hold back. He honestly didn’t know if he was going to make it out in one piece. 

He was in pain and scared shitless, but you were there. You kept him grounded, like you always knew what to do or say to keep his anxieties at bay. You were his rock, and he was yours. The two of you had this unspoken thing that not even Bailey dared to bring up to either of you. You could feel your shoulder becoming damn, from both tears and the blood from his wound- but you didn’t care. The stains would come out, and even if you ended up having to throw the shirt away, it didn’t matter. What mattered was the man quietly sobbing in your arms. 

He would never admit it, but Charlie cried a lot. Never in front of you or anyone else, but you’d always catch him silently crying to himself in the middle of the night. You knew that Bailey and Max were aware, but all three of you knew better than to mention it to him. Anytime that you gathered the nerve to ask him if he was alright in the middle of his crying session, he’d just yell at you to go away. You knew he never meant to actually yell at you. Normally he’d even apologize the next morning with a vague ‘sorry about last night’ while avoiding any actual questions about whatever he had been upset about. But right now, he didn’t care. There was nothing he needed more than you. 

—

Time passed by in a small blur. The only sound you could hear was Charlie’s heavy breathing finally beginning to regulate itself to the sound of your light humming. His arms were still wrapped around you, but the grip on your shirt had loosened. You still had one arm around his back, the other had found its way to his hair- playing with the short brown strands. 

“I got some stuff!” Max’s sudden voice startled you both. You turned your head in his direction to see that his hands were filled with an assortment of bandaid boxes, a bag of cotton balls, and a few snacks that he bought with your money (which you fully expected would happen). Charlie’s body went stiff under your arm at the sound of his son’s voice, embarrassed to be caught in such a vulnerable state. “This is all they had.”

“Thanks kiddo,” you smiled at him. The arm around Charlie’s middle let go, so you could reach out for the ‘medical’ supplies. He silently mourned the loss of the touch the second you let go. You placed the items next to you before your gaze returned to Max. “Why don’t you sit up front and update Bailey, tell her we’ll be back in a little bit. I’ll get to work patching up your dad’s apparently very punchable face.”

It was a poor attempt at a joke, but Max still smiled. Charlie made a mental note to thank you later for the small attempt at saving what was left of his pride. Thankfully, Max obliged and left to go sit in the front seat, giving you two a bit of privacy.

Using both your hands, you carefully lifted his head off of your shoulder. He made a small noise of disappointment as you pulled him from his safe spot. You couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself. You held his face in between your palms as you examined his face one more time. His eyes were a little swollen from the crying, and he looked like he was about to fall asleep. The adrenaline must have finally worn off. 

“Okay, I’ll do what I can, but I’m taking you to actually get this checked out first thing in the morning.”

“Fine by me.” his words were beginning to slur together. Something told you that you’d be the one driving the truck back to town tonight. It would be safer to leave your old car than the massive truck holding one of the most popular boxing robots at the moment. 

Your humming continued as you cleaned up the drying blood from his cheek. There was only so much you could do with the limited items (and skill) you had, but you stayed focused. With the bleeding stopped and wiped away, the wound wasn’t as bad as you originally thought. It would still leave a nasty scar, but it was small enough that a trip to an actual medical professional could wait. As you worked, you could feel Charlie’s head become heavy in your hands.

“You falling asleep on me?” You teased lightly.

“mmmno.” It was more of a noise than an actual word. 

“Almost done, big guy. Then you’re welcome to crash on your little cot back there.” Between the warmth of your hands, the soft touches, and your quiet humming as you worked- Charlie was practically melting. Bailey and you liked to joke that he was like a dog sometimes, from the bursts of impulsive energy, to the unapologetic joy over the smallest things, and of course his mastery of the ‘puppy dog eyes’ that he often used on you and Bailey to get what he wanted. He would always scoff or roll his eyes whenever you would tease him or whenever you called him a dog. You couldn’t help it, especially at times like this- with his eyes comfortably closed and melting into your every touch. It was adorable, despite the fact that you were actively cleaning up a wound. 

“Can’t sleep yet-” His body betrayed his words by interrupting his sentence to let out a yawn. “Gotta drive back.”

“Not like this, you’re not. I’ll drive.” Driving the truck wasn’t your favorite, but you have done it before. As long as you didn’t get pulled over, you could drive it home without a problem. “C’mon, let’s get you into bed before you actually pass out on me.”

With a light pat to his cheek, he dutifully allowed you to help him stand. His head immediately seeking your shoulder to lean on again. He was taller than you, but still seemed perfectly comfortable once he found the crook of your neck again. You blamed the blood loss and the crying for how touchy he was being. It’s not that he wasn’t a touchy person. He had a lack of personal space with those he was close to, but this was different. For a second, you questioned if this was even beyond him seeking you out as a source of comfort. 

Ignoring the swirl of worry and emotions you had yet to even fully admit to yourself, in your stomach, you carefully led him over to the cot inside the truck. You gave him a small nudge to sit down. He listened with only a small sound of complaint. The disappointment was short-lived. You could almost see ears perk up the moment you returned to sit by his side. 

“Thanks…for doing all this.” Standing must have woken him a little. His voice was much clearer than it was a few seconds ago. 

“It’s not like I was going to let you bleed out.” You rolled your eyes with a small smile across your lips, as you finished putting the last bandaid on his face. It was a haphazard job, but it would do the trick- at least for a few hours. 

“I know. Glad to have you on my side is all.” Your eyes moved from the collection of bandages to his eyes, feeling a little shocked by the genuine emotion they held. Charlie didn’t have a lot of people to count on. You knew that better than anyone.

“I’m happy to patch you up anytime.” Your hands left the sides of his face where you had been diligently working, moving down to find his hands. He took the hint and intertwined your fingers, giving them a light squeeze. The two of you were bonded, neither wanting to question of risk actually talking about what that bond was. You were waiting for him to say something, and he was in between being far too chicken shit and waiting for you. So many days spent dancing around either other like this. You knew, even now, that neither of you would mention the softness and tenderness from tonight’s interaction. He’d go to sleep as you drove him, and he’d wake up not remembering much of the night in the first place. Still you sat with him, foreheads pressed together, basking in each other’s company. 

“I gotta take you home, Char.” You whispered, not wanting to leave this moment yet. His grip on your hand tightened, but he still allowed you to pull away.  

“Tomorrow, let me take you to dinner.” His voice wasn’t as quiet as yours, but it was even more unsure of itself. Speaking before thinking, as always, but looking deep into your eyes this time. “As…thanks.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the offer. The two of you went out for dinner alone all the time, but something about this felt different. You gave his hand one final squeeze and planted a small kiss on his cheek before standing up. “It’s a date.”

[fob4ever]

i was at a bookstore yesterday that had a copy of the kerrang: living loud book that featured the FOB watergun fight article i've never seen transcribed anywhere so i made a transcript of it for archival purposes. enjoy! from kerrang, may 2005.

For a man staring down the barrel of a loaded gun while wearing just underpants, Fall Out Boy bassist Peter Wentz looks remarkably chipper. Especially when you consider the person about to unload in his face is guitarist and vocalist Patrick Stump, grinning madly despite the fact that fellow six-stringer Joe Trohman has a pistol to his temple. He in turn is firmly in the firing line of drummer Andy Hurley, cackling loudly with his finger hovering over the trigger.

Passers-by stop and stare, waiting for the inevitable, messy climax of this "Reservoir Dogs" scenario. The tension mounts, onlookers brace themselves, the band get ready to open fire. Suddenly it happens.

"Argh!" screams Wentz as several litres of icy water soak him. "That's fucking cold!"

No, Fall Out Boy aren't about to blow each other away, They're having a water fight for K!'s benefit in a car park at the Chicago stop on travelling punk circus Warped Tour, where they're knocking out their "softcore" wares ("We're basically a hardcore band that couldn't cut it as a hardcore band," laughs Wentz) on the main stage alongside big hitters like The Offspring, Avenged Sevenfold and My Chemical Romance. The Windy City is more than just another stop for them; Chicago is Fall Out Boy's hometown, the place where they formed out of the ashes of their old hardcore bands, and where they still live with their parents- who are here for today's show - during the few weeks of the year they're not on tour.

It all started for Fall Out Boy here in 2001 when the members wanted a break from playing in their various bands. Long time friends Wentz and Hurley got together with hardcore associate Joe Trohman to do something a bit less heavy. Following a conversation about avant-metallers Neurosis in a bookstore, Trohman introduced Stump to the rest of the band. When their other bands folded, they took on Fall Out Boy full time.

"We wanted to do things before we were ready," chuckles Peter Wentz fondly of the early days of DIY tours for the benefit of the one or two people who would show up. "We'd plan two-week tours, just to see the world. Nobody would book us, so we had to do it all on our own."

"A lot of bands have scenes to go into and surround themselves with those people," says Stump. "We had no scene, so we would just play anywhere, with whoever."

FOB have come a long way from their humble roots. Right now they're America's fastest rising band. Radio smash 'Sugar, We're Goin' Down' has placed them squarely in the mainstream, having spent three weeks as the Number One song on MTV's 'TRL', a prime-time show usually devoted to pop acts like Maroon 5 and Ashlee Simpson. So dizzying their Stateside assent has been, they had to cancel their recent European tour in order to play the MTV Music Video Awards, where they are also nominated for 'Sugar...'. Thankfully, FOB haven't let the screaming adoration turn them into big-headed twats.

"A piece of shit with legs on it could walk onto 'TRL' and people would still go crazy," laughs Wentz. "That stuff just goes straight by me. With the fast turnover in the music industry, how can anyone have an ego"

Andy Hurley chips in. "You can be today's main stage and tomorrow's trash."

That's to find out tomorrow, though. Today among the madness of trying to plan anything on the Warped Tour - stage times are decided daily by lottery - Fall Out Boy have to try and find time for hanging out with family and friends.

"Three weeks on Warped is like three months on a normal tour," says Peter Wentz.

"Home becomes like Atlantis on tour, you wonder if it actually exists after a while," adds Patrick Stump.

Now FOB are big stars, a lot of old 'friends' have been coming out of the woodwork. Joe Trohman and Peter Wentz have polarised views on those who didn't give a toss back in the day suddenly becoming your pal once you've made it.

"The way I look at it is if someone's a dick to you and you don't know them, so what?" says Trohman. "Just care about who did support you, keep those important people close, not the people who five years ago called you a loser."

"I work the opposite way!" Wentz counters, before adding darkly, "The people I think about most are enemies. My brain works on revenge!"

Though a tight knit group of close friends, Peter Wentz is clearly Fall Out Boy's spokesman. He does most of the talking during the interview and writes the lyrics, and seems like the most driven one of the lot. As well as doing Fall Out Boy, Wentz has also written a book with tattoo artist Joe Tesaure, 'The Boy With The Thorn In His Side'. It's a dark, twisted tale that could have come straight from the brain of Tim Burton.

"I've always been into Roahl Dahl and people like that, and I was friends with a tattoo artist at the time and we came up with this idea to do a book together," he explains. "It wasn't something I felt fitted in with what Fall Out Boy is, I hate when bands do something that's not 'them'. The book is what it is, and Fall Out Boy is what we are."

Despite all thise talk of nightmares and revenge, FOB are upbeat individuals, enjoying their newfound success, while refusing to allow success to go to their heads. They'll tell you they don't like the shallowness of groupies or industry parties, and that the trappings of rock stardom hold no appeal.

"I don't feel like I deserve it," says Wentz in closing. "It's not like, 'this amount of time and this amount of shows = this kind of bus'. I appreciate what we've got. We've toured in a tiny van and it was cool, but now we're having new adventures living like this. I don't feel we deserve it more than any other bands do."

He surveys the sumptuosly appointed tour bus for a moment before chuckling heartily.

"Actually, that's a lie, we totally deserve it more than anyone else! Ha ha!"

[cookinguptales]

Can I ask you to do a post about Disney & disability please? You mentioned it and I’d love to know more!

Well, my notifications can't get any messier, so why not?

This post got very, very long because I ended up talking about a lot of the accessibility solutions in detail (and... ranting about how accessibility at Universal was so bad that I got physically injured there) so I'm putting it under a cut for you.

To preface this, I have mobility issues (as well as a lot of food intolerances/allergies) and general chronic illness, my sister is Deaf, and I have friends who regularly attend the park with autistic family members with high support needs. These are the disabilities I have experience with, so while I've heard a bit about others (such as portable descriptive devices for visitors with visual impairments) I can't speak as much about those accommodations.

I have also traveled quite a bit, mostly as a disabled adult. I can work from anywhere and my family enjoys traveling, so I've been very lucky in this regard. I also used to live in central Florida, not too far from Disney, and benefited from their FL resident rates.

So I'm coming at this from a person who has a lot of experience traveling while disabled and a fair amount of experience going to WDW, though I haven't been nearly as often since I moved out of Florida.

(Good fucking riddance.)

So know that I am speaking from experience when I say I have never, without exception, been to a single place half as accessible as Walt Disney World. It is literally the reason my family would go there; it was one of the only places we could all safely go together. One of the only places I've been on earth that even approached their level of thoughtful accommodations is Barcelona, which apparently did significant renovations throughout the city in order to prepare for the 1992 Paralympics.

(Hey, if anyone is reading this from Barcelona: I teared up the first time I used one of your curb cuts in my wheelchair, just so you know.)

Going through those parks in a wheelchair is a breeze, though you will probably have to fight a lot of clueless parents with strollers who are hellbent on using resources intended for wheelchair-users and then glaring at you when you try to use them yourself. Level ground, spacious sidewalks, accessible transportation, well-kept gradual ramps, roomy buildings, lots of accessible restrooms, alternate entrances at many rides for wheelchair users, special wheelchair rows in movie theaters that we're loaded into first, accessible queues in most rides designed or renovated in the last fifteen years, special viewing areas for shows/parades/fireworks so you don't end up staring at able-bodied butts for a half hour...

Like, structurally-speaking, the parks are very easy to get around in if you're a wheelchair user. That was built in and you can see a lot of very mindful design choices. As far as the rides go, most of their rides actually have special cars that you can load into while still in a wheelchair. They're pretty neat. I can transfer, but that means often leaving my wheelchair and/or cane with a cast member during the ride. They are always, without fail, waiting for me on the other side of the ride, no matter how far the exit is from the entrance. I have never once had a problem with this. A cast member will be there to put my assistive devices in my hand before I even have to think about getting up. Guaranteed.

Wheelchair users always used to be able to skip the line, but there was unfortunately a problem with able-bodied people pretending to be disabled to skip lines (because god forbid they not have access to a single thing we have to make our lives livable) so now there's a system where if you cannot wait in a line, they'll basically give you a special time to come back that's equivalent to the length of the line. Which feels fair to me as someone who often cannot be in even an accessible line for extended periods. (I have problems with sunlight, heat, and often need emergency food or restroom.)

More important than all this, though, is the fact that cast members are impeccably well-trained in all of this. Any disabled person can tell you that the most accessible design on earth isn't worth shit if the people working there aren't well-trained. (More on this later, when I take a giant shit on Universal Studios.) But Disney trains their employees, many of whom are disabled themselves, incredibly well.

Every employee will know where the accessible entrances are. Every employee will know the procedure for getting a return time. Every employee will know about first-aid centers, and every employee will know where the quiet areas are for people with sensory issues. Every time you make a reservation for a meal, hotel room, transportation, etc. they will ask for all accessibility needs and they'll be ready for you.

Every waiter you have will be incredibly careful and knowledgeable when it comes to special dietary needs, and chefs will often come out to discuss them with you. They often have specific menus for different dietary needs, and they are scrupulous when it comes to allergens. I have a few intolerances that suck and allergies that could kill me and I have always felt very safe in their hands. This ranges from fancy sit-down restaurants to quick service burger places.

And -- honestly, I have just always been treated with respect. I know that sounds like a low bar, but most people do fail to clear it. Disney has their employees very well-trained on how to interact with disabled guests. People speak directly to me, never to the able-bodied people over my head. They never treat me like I'm a child. They never ask invasive questions or make uncomfortable jokes. They never, ever get impatient with my accessibility needs.

The few times I have misjudged things and have injured myself or gotten extremely ill, they were professional and caring as they provided much-needed first-aid. It's kind of embarrassing to be doted on by a costumed character while you wait for a doctor to come help you sit up again, but also kind of endearing, I'll admit.

They also, in addition to captioning all videos in the park, have some of the best sign language interpreters in the world, bar none. They're very personal and professional, they're easy to reserve, they will always be in a visible place during shows, and they're incredible performers as well as being very technically proficient. In addition to the professional interpreters, many cast members, performers, and characters can sign as well.

In addition to that, and this brings me to my next point, you'll meet a lot of disabled employees throughout the park. In front-facing positions. Deaf employees, employees using mobility aids, etc. They're well-known to hire disabled people and treat them well. This is. Fuck, this is incredibly rare, I say as someone who was never able to find a job in Florida with my health conditions. It's the moral thing to do to hire disabled people, but also -- selfishly, there's something so heartening and normalizing about seeing people who look like you working at the park. I'm happy every single time.

I have a little less personal experience when it comes to accessibility for neurodivergence, despite being neurodivergent myself, but I've been told that Disney is very, very accommodating for people on the spectrum. A lot is done to lessen crowding, waiting, sensory overload, etc. for autistic guests. Cast members are usually super good at this; finding designated quiet areas, helping autistic guests avoid more crowded areas, keeping them out of long lines, making sure they have access to any particular experiences that are special to them, etc.

For folks who need help from their group, whether that's an autistic child who needs to be with a parent or a disabled adult who needs someone to push their wheelchair or anything else, Disney has a rider switch-off model. In other words, if you're there with both of your able-bodied parents, for example, and you need one of them to be with you at all times and you don't want to be on the ride yourself, Disney will allow one person to go on the ride while the other waits for them to finish, then will allow the second person to go on without any additional wait. This makes sure that everyone in the family gets equal access without leaving disabled people alone. (Which... can be a very shitty feeling, I assure you.)

I know that Disney has also pioneered a lot of assistive technology. The accessible rides, obviously, which can be ridiculously cool (like Toy Story Midway Mania has an accessible car with alternative "guns" for people with dexterity limitations so they can play the carnival games as well) but also handheld assistive devices for visually impaired guests, etc. Like they are literally inventing new forms of accessibility technology, which is so cool.

And honestly, I'm always learning about new ways they assist disabled guests. I've stayed in Disney's accessible hotel rooms before (they're very nice!) but I don't like to swim so I've never been in the pools. But even just this week, someone told me that Disney has pool lifts for disabled guests, which I had never even considered. That's so cool.

The best part about accessibility at Disney is that in some ways it's very casual. A lot of their design decisions are so intuitive that you never even notice how accessible the parks are until you go somewhere where that's... not the case.

Like -- just so you don't assume that any of these things are industry standard, let me tell you about the two times I went to Universal, a park very close to Disney. I went there once for an event and once with my family.

The first time I went was for an event at the opening of the Harry Potter park. (This was before JKR made her most appalling views public, to be clear.) It... was frustrating. Guests asked if there would be food and drink available for people with special dietary restrictions (such as sugar-free butterbeer) and were pretty much told that no, that was not something they were interested in pursuing. It became very obvious very quickly that the park itself was so narrow that it only barely fulfilled ADA standards -- when empty. We were told that JKR had actually specifically insisted that it feel "cramped". Which is a nice way to say that I couldn't actually get around in any of the stores while people were in them.

It was overall a frustrating experience, but it was like. One night. I figured it was probably a fluke and they were still ironing out all the details. So I ended up going back with my parents later.

Y'all, it was a shit show.

Broken elevators that prevented disabled guests from accessing rides. Performers being up on raised platforms/sidewalks so disabled guests couldn't get to them. Sidewalks being made inaccessible by putting movable signs directly in the middle of them. Stores (even outside of the HP part) that were so damn narrow that I actually ended up getting hurt trying to navigate one of them. And no -- it was not easy to get first aid.

And my god, was the training bad. We went to one of the new HP rides, asked if there was a specific entrance for disabled guests. We were told no. We waited for a very long time in a line that honestly I shouldn't have been waiting in, but I wanted to be a good sport. I was pretty sick by the time we got through it, and the line itself had some very dangerous inclines/turns for wheelchair users. We get to the front of the line -- and the employee asks why we didn't just use the accessible entrance. 🙃

(Side note: several of their rides are also just unrideable if you don't fit within a pretty narrow body type of thin and able-bodied, so... there's that.)

We'd asked repeatedly and gotten incorrect answers, and I'd been put in physical danger as a result. Wild. I started to notice that if you asked different employees, you'd get different answers about almost anything, really. Just exceptionally poor training. Even stuff that should've been a no-brainer, like loading wheelchair users into a stationary movie theater, ended up creating chaos when they did it incorrectly and we had a giant wheelchair pileup.

Like -- let me stress to you that many of the things that happened could have caused actual injury to people. Some of these situations were dangerous. And some of them were just alienating, like when I'd have to wait outside a store while my family could go in.

I never went back after that. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ We just kept going to Disney.

One thing that'll probably show how good Disney is at accessibility is the whole Make-A-Wish thing. A lot of people know that it's a popular Make-A-Wish request, and you're likely to see at least a couple kids with Make-A-Wish buttons during your visit if you keep an eye out. One reason for this, is that, y'know, Disney World is fun. Kids want to go there. But more important, I think, is that Disney can accommodate people with at-times severe medical needs. Those kids can safely go anywhere and do anything in those parks that able-bodied kids can, and that's important.

All in all, the parks are just so accessible and you will never, ever be made to feel like you're lesser for needing those accommodations. You will be treated so well and you will not have to worry about accessibility because the cast members are always doing it for you. They'll usher you into the correct entrance as soon as they see a mobility device, and they'll do it with a very warm welcome. It's one of the very few places on earth where I have never felt like a burden.

Again, y'know, I know that Disney does not have a perfect track record on a lot of issues. I would never defend them from rightfully earned criticism. I strongly support labor action against them, and I do think they should be criticized whenever they fuck up. I have been uncomfortable with the sheer amount of power they have both in Florida and in the entertainment world just because no one should have that much power. But I am far more uncomfortable with that power being stripped away for blatantly discriminatory political reasons.

I do have some loyalty to Disney just because there is no other place on earth where I've been able to safely have fun with my friends with so little agony. That's... I mean, it's important, really. To be able to just exist in public without getting grief for it. And I have some loyalty to them because they were a safe space for me as a young, queer kid who was not safe being out in other areas of my life.

(Like, I am talking about actual literal safety. I kept seeing notes on my post saying that Disney didn't care about creating a "safe space for queer people" but as someone who lived in Florida for the entirety of my teenage years? It was the safest goddamn place there.)

I do not have enough loyalty to defend them when they do immoral bullshit, but I do have enough to make sure that people know the good that they do as well.

I want other businesses to follow Disney's model for disability. I will praise them forever for what they've done in that regard because if I don't, there's no reason for other companies to follow suit. I want to praise them for the good things they've done so they have incentive to keep doing it, and other companies have an incentive to do it as well.

Like bro, I just wanna be able to move around and be treated with some dignity, y'know? My bar is so low. lmao

But yeah. That's why you always see so many disabled guests at Disney. It's literally the only place some of us can go to have fun.

[poppadom0912]

Mafia boyfriend

Warnings: Mentions of violence, guns, canon-typical injuries, mob/mafia typical behaviour

Summary: Your boyfriend isn't exactly how you described him to be.

A/N: I’m trying to get a bunch of writing done before the new academic year, so please do enjoy! This idea was so random but the concept is kinda fun so I thought why not. I know no Italian at all, everything is from google translate so I'm sorry for any inaccuracies. This writing and description is very stereotypical and very wattpad of me, I apologise in advance. 🙏

"So, are we ever going to meet your mysterious man?" Stella asked you while the four of you sat in the back of the ambulance having your weekly talk about anything and everything.

You laughed at her expecting face, along with the knowing glances Violet and Sylvie had. "He's just a really busy guy, taking over his dad's business takes a lot of time and not all of it is in Chicago so he's going back and forth from here to Italy."

"But he treats you good, right?" Violet asked seriously, wanting nothing more than for you to be with someone good.

"Oh he's amazing." You said whimsically, a soft smile settling on your lips at the thought of your boyfriend of one year that your family had yet to meet. "Hopefully he's back by Friday so you'll see him on Saturday for the barbeque."

"Oh I completely forgot about that." Sylvie frowned, confused as to how she forgot the yearly picnic that always took place. "What time does it start?"

"I have no idea." You shrugged. "I'll just show up whenever I'm ready."

"Wow, so organised." Stella complimented you sarcastically, ducking away from your hand when you were going to smack her.

"In my relationship, Enzo does all the planning." You mumbled with a slight pout as though trying to prove a point but it didn't work

"Mystery man does have a name!"

"Enzo sounds hot."

"Violet!"

*****

"Eeeee! You're here!" Violet squealed in pure joy as she practically sprinted towards you with her arms open, enveloping you in the biggest hug despite seeing you yesterday on shift. "About time, these lot are getting boring."

At her snide but playful comment, Gallo and Ritter started booing her from where she left them behind at their table with a few others from 51 who were drinking beers. You quickly waved at them and made a mental note to go and say hi to them.

"Oh Violet, I have someone I want you to meet." You eagerly smiled and the younger paramedic took note of your eyes sparkling which could only mean one thing.

Violet gasped, her arms dropping to her side as she did so in disbelief that this was finally happening. "Y/N, don't lie to me girl, my gentle heart can't take it."

You shook your head, smiling at the utter joy one of your friends had for a moment that lots of people don't consider that important. "Violet this is my boyfriend Enzo. Enzo, this is one of my best friends Violet."

With her award winning smile, Violet followed your line of sight and her brows rose in shock when she finally met the man you'd been dating for a little over a year now.

There was no doubt about it, he was an extremely attractive man but he was definitely out of his element. Unbeknownst to all of the CFD, the park was littered in bodyguards who had been held back from personally tailing their boss like they usually would.

Shaking off all her negative thoughts, Violet thought the best and held out her hand towards the attractive but intimidating man. "It's lovely to finally meet you after so long Enzo, I'm Violet."

"I've heard plenty of good things about you. It's a wonder we haven't met earlier." His voice was slightly accented, Violet remembered you saying he was Italian. His grip wasn't as hard as she thought and his tone actually softer than he looked, his words making the paramedic laugh.

"We've been nagging Y/N for so long to meet you but she's very convincing." You choked back a laugh at Violet's comment, lightly elbowing her in the gut. "Alright Vi, that's enough. Where's Stella and Sylvie?"

"Over there with Kelly and Matt."

It was comedic really, the sight of you and your boyfriend together was unbelievable. Despite being a firefighter, you were of very short stature and you were practically the embodiment of pure joy but with your boyfriend standing besides you, he was so much taller and wore all black smart ish attire with rings on two of his fingers.

It was like the typical grumpy and sunshine trope that people read about in books but this was real life. Violet almost couldn't believe you bagged yourself a man like him but in a good way.

"Y/N, hey girl!" Stella smiled, waving you over from besides Kelly as soon as she noticed you. Not only did she notice but so did three others that stood with her that a man was accompanying you, someone who was very out of his element. "Stop- is this the infamous Enzo?"

At your dimpled smile, Stella's smile widened as she fully turned to greet your boyfriend she'd been desperate to meet since you mentioned taking his number ages ago.

There was no denying you were ecstatic to be with him but something wasn't adding up and it seemed that she wasn't the only one suspicious.

Things weren't adding up and your family were dammed if they didn't find out what.

*****

Being shot at was nothing you weren't used to living in Chicago all your life. At this point, you'd become accustomed to it and you no longer feared it how you used to when you were a child.

However, it did scare you when in uniform and out on a call.

Following Casey and Severide's orders, everything was organised in an orderly manner but as soon as you re-entered the house to bring out a victim, all the gunfire suddenly stopped.

Initially, everyone was relieved and began calming down but as soon as you exited the house with a woman in tow, gunshots began raining down once again causing everyone to shout in a flurry of panic.

But once again, as soon as you backed up into the house protecting the smoke inhalation victim, all the gunshots stopped.

It was at this moment, it all slowly started to click.

Whispering to the female victim to stay put, you very carefully set one foot outside the house and what do you know, gunshots started popping off.

Eyes wide and chest heaving, you swallowed harshly at the realisation that you were being targeted. You alone and no one else.

"Y/L/N, stay inside, we're coming to you." Casey relayed over the radio, your captains words making it clear to you that he had also connected all the dots.

All you had to do now was wonder why.

Following the shooting, everyone came out unharmed but you. While you were distracted with the smoke inhalation victim, you were caught slacking and got grazed by a bullet.

You'd been hurt much worse before but it was bad enough for Sylvie to warrant a trip to Med where Enzo met you, worry and concern flooding off of him in waves. Not once since your year of being together had you ever seen him so worried about anything.

He brushed off your questions about work, he told you this morning he had an important meeting with some clients but here he was with you.

Unbeknownst to you, a group of Italian men were dutifully waiting for their boss in the waiting room and beyond the hospital doors lay a few cars all inhabited with similar looking men.

Once you fell asleep, Enzo lightly placed a kiss on your forehead before stepping away, gently closing the doors to your room. Walking away, he was lucky not to bump into anyone from the firehouse, going straight towards his brothers who waited for him to speak eagerly.

"It's them. They're targeting my Y/N."

His younger siblings eyes, identical to his, all darkened at his words. They'd grown attached to you over the one year period and they'd be damned if one of the best things to happen to this family was hurt, let alone dragged into business that she was too pure for.

"Come on, we have some work to do."

*****

That incident was over a month ago. You fully healed since then, the trauma of such an incident long forgotten. And you were too oblivious to notice the change in the people around you, especially your boyfriend and his family. Their protectiveness reaching new heights, not that it bothered you though.

Things drastically changed when one day you never showed up to shift. You were very strict on punctuality and Stella mentioned seeing you yesterday morning for some brunch.

It was only when Violet called Enzo, asking if you'd fallen sick and forgotten to call Boden, did they properly start to get worried.

Your boyfriend picked up on the second ring, voice filled with confusion at your best friend calling him, something she's never done before.

Violet explained the situation, Enzo confirming he hadn't seen you since you left early this morning for work.

The tension in his voice was clear as day. So when he said 'I'll deal with it' before hanging up, Violet was left feeling uneasy.

What the hell did he mean?!

Three hours later, Intelligence were rolling up to the firehouse, well only Jay and Hailey.

"We just got a call about Y/N being kidnapped?" Hailey said, confusion laced in her words as she approached the squad table.

The firefighters all looked at her in shock. They were never told anything about a kidnapping.

"What the hell." Cruz whispered as the two detectives explained everything they knew.

"Who knows where she was seen last?" Jay asked, looking at all of 51, everyone joining them outside in concern for you.

"Her boyfriend Enzo." Violet said, brows furrowed as she bit her lip. "I called and asked him around three hours ago now."

"Really?" Jay hummed. "What's his full name?"

"No clue. That's all we really know about him - his name, he's Italian and he's now a CEO after his dad died." Stella replied when Violet remained silent.

"Interesting."

*****

Dropping off a patient at Med, Violet stood besides Sylvie as she filled in some paperwork, bouncing on her feet to pass time when Will appeared in front of them suddenly.

Scaring both paramedics, he apologised with a sheepish smile.

"Hey, you guys never mentioned Y/N being kidnapped?" Before either of them could reply or explain themselves, he carried on. "It doesn't matter now, she's upstairs in a private room."

Both women were too shocked to reply, staring at the doctor mouths agape and eyes wide.

"Y/N's here? At Med?" Sylvie repeated, wanting clarification just in case she was hearing things.

"Yep." Will nodded. "Me and Maggie were treating her, I'm the primary on her case."

"Well then, what are you waiting for?" Violet said impatiently. "Lead the way Halstead."

And lead the way he did, showing them to a floor they barely saw due to their lack of 'rich rich' patients.

In the chairs outside were several men dressed in blacks and greys, all looking very similar to each other, their brown eyes glued to Sylvie and Violet as they neared the room.

Knocking on the door, Will didn't wait for a reply before entering, poking his head inside before opening it fully.

"Sylvie! Violet!" You exclaimed, trying to get up from your laid back position on the bed, wincing from moving too fast.

"Okay, let's not do that." Enzo said at the same time as Will, gently pushing you to lay back down.

"I've put a rush on your test results." Will said, looking at you and your boyfriend. "If I'm not available, I'll send Maggie."

Enzo thanked him while the two paramedics hugged you cautiously.

"Girl, what the hell happened?" Violet asked first, standing by your head with Sylvie standing next to her, opposite to where Enzo was sat.

"I'll be honest, I don't remember much." You admitted, grimacing at the pain in your head when you moved too much. "Pretty sure I was drugged for the most of it."

"I think I was taken like two blocks away from 51." You said confusingly, looking to your right at Enzo in confirmation, turning back when he nodded. "And all I can really remember is being punched and kicked a few times and like, a bunch of men talking about mob revenge stuff."

"Honestly, I don't even know or remember what they were talking about - I was so out of it."

You licked your chapped lips at which Enzo instantly held a cup of water in front of you, directing the straw for you to drink.

Humming appreciatingly, you smiled at him, dimples and squinted eyes and all before turning back to 2 of 3 of your girls.

"I was so out of it that when I first saw Enzo, I struggled to even recognise him, innit baby?"

Enzo just hummed, his one hand encompassing both of yours, his calloused fingers softly rubbing your knuckles.

"Where was she?" Violet asked, mustering up the courage to ask. "How- Where did you find her?"

Enzo finally took his eyes off you, eyes cold as he looked at your best friend. "I have a really good friend - we grew up together - whose a detective."

"I just asked for a favour." Enzo lied masterfully, having a lifetime full of experience.

The two paramedics, while quite suspicious, remained oblivious to what he was covering up.

"Fratello." A voice from the door interrupted them, all yours heads turning to one of Enzo's younger brothers. Brother

"Sono stati affrontati. Ale and Carlo assicurati che facesse male."

they have been dealt with. Ale and Carlo made sure it hurt.

"Bene." Enzo nodded, smiling at his younger brother. "You guys can go home now." good

His brother rolled his eyes, scoffing when he replied, "You're very silly Enzo, why would we go anywhere?" He said rhetorically before looking at you.

"You look much better cognata!" He smiled, brightening up his face and looking much less scarier than he just was. "All you need now is some good food and you'll be as good as new." Sister-in-law

You giggled, stifling a groan from the pain it caused in your ribs. "Thank you Luca. I expect to go home to your cooking."

He laughed, winking before he left, nodding at his brother who shooed him away.

Before anyone could say anything, the radios around their torsos went off, the familiar voice of Matt asking for their whereabouts causing them to frown.

"We should probably get back to work. We're still on shift for another fifteen hours." Sylvie said, the sadness clear in her face at the prospect of leaving you for so long.

"Yes yes. Go back and save the city on my behalf." You removed one hand from Enzo's, holding it out for both of them to take. "Say hi to everyone for me. Tell em I'll be back to working soon-"

"Ah- no you won't." Enzo stopped you before you could continue, chastising you with a smile but firm in his words. "You need to recover first. Only when you're fully healed can you go back to putting out fires, yes?"

"Exactly!" Violet agreed. "We're all on the same page, perfect."

"We'll come back and see you again after shift." Violet said as the two of them got up to leave. "Don't move an inch."

"Promise." You smiled, thanking them profusely for visiting. "Give everyone my love."

Closing the door behind them, the waiting room remained full of the same men, who now that they were looking properly, looked eerily similar to Enzo.

Making their way to the elevators, Sylvie broke the silence. "I don't- I don't think he asked a friend for a favour."

"Did you see the gun his brother had?"

...

"I did."

[hwanchaesong]

Chatoyant (Soulmate) Preview

pairing: Jay X F!Reader

synopsis: You've never believed in the braided vermillion strings that are supposedly tied in your pinky, where the other end is where you'll find your beloved. Not until you're standing in the middle of a story ridden room.

word count: tba

genre & warnings: angst, smut, fluff, warnings tba

a/n: this is a teaser for the upcoming Enhypen: Tropes & Parallels series that i've been working on. i hope y'all look forward to it. please don't hesitate to tell me if you wanted to be added to the taglist. tysm 🩷

You listened to Jay, your class representative, in boredom as he lists the do's and don'ts for your next destination. Apparently, it's some kind of history museum where millions of stories are etched on the items that are displayed there.

Certainly picked your interest, but not enough to make you excited.

"I want to go to the amusement park instead." your friend Sunghoon, who was sitting next to you muttered, to which you agreed to an extent, but hey, this is your country's archive, might as well enjoy it while you can.

You groaned and stretched your back when you got off the bus, a chuckle caught your attention so you turned with a frown, catching Jay red-handed on his attempt to cover up his amusement.

"You think this is funny? My back aching is worth the lols?" you asked in disbelief, making small talk with the man.

"You acting like an old woman is funny." he corrects, patting your shoulder in a casual manner, "Come on, let's get inside. It's too hot here."

He trudged towards the museum, leaving you there with your thoughts for a moment.

The touch felt like a zing, it's always been like that. Conversing with him was easy as a pie, skinship was rare but when it did happen, it's pure electricity. Although, you may put this in the 'I admire you type of crush' instead of overthinking things.

You shrugged, entering the building and occupying yourself with the exhibit.

It was nice, finding some statues or swords cool. Jake triggers your ijbolitis when he starts lecturing you and Sunghoon about the legend of whatever sculpture it was that caught his attention. (you have to admit, he's an adorable nerd)

Sunghoon begged you to stay, but you blew him a kiss and left him with the aussie, opting to enter a room that you haven't explored yet.

When you step foot inside though, a gush of air suddenly hits you. Which was weird, to say the least, since there are no open windows around, surely the place is airconditioned.

You sighed, brushing it off and sauntering towards the small bulletin, there you learned that the room is full of trinkets between two lovers, torned apart by the war.

A story of an empress and her general.

Then, time seemed to stop when you finally set your eyes on the largest painting hanging by the wall.

You felt a pang in your heart, especially when you saw the letters that they had exchanged. The clothes, jewelry, all of their personal belongings felt so... intimate.

It was uncanny and you dumbly stood there, thinking and staring at the art because it looks exactly like-

"It's like I'm looking right into a mirror."

A familiar voice suddenly spoke from behind and you gasped, losing your balance when you accidentally twisted your ankle in surprise, but fear not, your knight in shining armor dramatically caught you.

"Woah there," Jay peered at you with concern, "Are you okay?"

Will it be a bad decision on your part if you say that this is more than okay?

taglist

@lilyuwon @ramenoil

[heartfullofleeches]

Going to do a small ramble since janitors been getting some misgendering.

Imagine if for a second, janitor just corrected people on their pronouns. Like, sure their in a chaotic fast food place but the least a customer can do is accept the pronouns the fucking cleaner of the establishment uses. Maybe after a long hard day of work, FF! Reader just gives sulli a hug. They deserve it even in this murder happy and very questionably run fast food joint. Maybe they even just chill after hours in the building to just hang out. Idk personally think there's not enough fluff for them. (Side thing : what if janitor just had a they/them pin? I've seen more recently at least in my area service workers have rainbow or fandom pins and I think it'd fit them.) -🍭anon (sorry I haven't spoken in awhile, been very busy with life)

[I'll do you one better- FF Reader being the one to correct the customer. TW: Mention of misgendering]

"Um, excuse me, Sir? There's still no paper towels in the bathroom."

Why do they even bother? They've expressed their grievances to this customer multiple times - both in fact of them being busy with other work, and that the customer had mistaken them for something they weren't. They've tried to let it slide. They've tried to gently inform the customer of their preferred pronouns. No dice. Their head was pounding from the fumes of the chemical they worked with, and this was doing nothing to help it. Why did they come into work today.

"Listen, I'll get to it once I'm done mopping. How many times do I have to tell you I'm not a-"

Soft squeaks resonate from the freshly cleaning floor as heavy steps race across it. A hand nabs the bottle of cleanser out of the janitor's hands - aiming the nozzle directly in line with the customer's eyes as its finger clamps down on the trigger.

The customer screeches - throwing their hands over their face to shield themselves as their eyes sting and vision blurs.

"Begone." Steadying your aim, you blast the customer with another face full of the unholy solution filing the bottle in your hands. Had to be some powerful stuff to get out the stains you see on the daily. Despite their arms blocking majority of their face, you manage to get a spray of the mixture in their mouth. They retch - tears and saliva dripping down their face as they spit.

"Agh! What the hell is wrong with you!"

"The fuck's wrong with you? I've been watching you all morning. There's a line between a mistake and being an ignorant asshole, and you've crossed it buddy. Go on, get - shoo, get the fuck outta here."

"I hope you know you've just lost a paying customer!"

"You say that like it's a bad thing. Go ruin someone's else's day."

The Janitor watches as you chase the customer out of the establishment, hurling obscenities and hitting them with another jet of cleanser whenever they turn to look back. You toss the now empty bottle at the hood of their car as they crawl in and speed away. Their heart pumps so loudly they can barely hear your steps as you return to their side.

"Sorry about using all your cleanser. Wanna go pretend to look for more in storage room and sneak out the back?"

The Janitor deadpans. "I used to think I was in love you.... It's gone far beyond just a thought now."

"I know." You throw your arm around their shoulder - allowing them to dump their weight on you as they go weak in the knees from the contact. You half carry them out the back door, sneaking off to where their van was parked outside. You hold your hand out for their keys which they readily give you. You help them into the passenger seat before walking around to the driver's side and hopping in. The Janitor's hand reaches over the divider, stopping just short of your arm.

"You good?"

Their head falls to your shoulder - voice strained as they rub at where their eyes would be. "Yea....Yea, I'm good. Thanks by the way."

You place your hand over theirs, squeezing it gently. "Eh, you and I are the one's keeping the hellhole in shape.. You deserve more respect than you get sometimes... Ready to ditch this place for the night?"

"....Please?..."

[zionworkzs]

Alright, let's talk about this scene in S1 Ep3:

Let's take this line by line, shall we? I added in some stage directions so we can see the acting choices alongside the dialogue (because this scene!!! this scene!! there is so much unsaid and communicated via body language).

*Crowley gets into his car and Aziraphale miracles inside*

C: *surprised*

C: What are you doing here?

A: I needed a word with you.

C: What?

A: I work in Soho. I hear things. I hear that you're setting up a...

A: *looks at Crowley*

A: caper. To rob a church.

C: *looks away from Aziraphale*

A: *concerned* Crowley, it's too dangerous. Holy Water won't just kill your body, it will destroy you completely.

C: *annoyed* You told me what you think. 105 years ago.

A: And I haven't changed my mind. But I can't have you risking your life. Not even for something dangerous. So... *pulls out thermos* you can call off the robbery.

C: *looking at Aziraphale, clearly surprised*

A: Don't go unscrewing the cap.

A: *not looking at Crowley anymore*

C: *looking between the thermos and Aziraphale* It's the real thing?

A: The holiest.

C: *attention fully on Aziraphale now* After everything you said?

A: *nods, still not looking at Crowley*

C: Should I say thank you?

C: *still looking at Aziraphale*

A: *pointedly NOT looking at Crowley*

A: Better not.

C: Well, can I drop you anywhere?

A: No. Thank you.

A: *briefly glancing at Crowley*

A: Don't look so disappointed.

A: *looking away again*

A: Perhaps one day we could, I don't know. Go for a picnic.

A: *looking at Crowley now*

A: Dine at the Ritz.

C: I'll give you a lift. Anywhere you want to go.

*silence, and the longest amount of time Aziraphale looks at Crowley this whole scene*

A: You go too fast for me, Crowley.

*both looking at each other for a beat before Aziraphale exits*

OKAY SO HOLY HECK

I feel like this scene gets boiled down to THAT line we all remember (and we'll get there), but I feel like the whole scene and the context is so so important if we want to understand THAT line.

So the background info:

1862 AD - London, St James Park: Crowley asks for holy water.

1941 AD - London: Aziraphale meets with Nazi agents inside a church. Crowley swoops in to save the day (and the books). We have the magic show and the lovely candelit dinner afterwards.

This scene takes place in 1967 in Soho, London presumably.

So, since 1862 when Crowley first asks, Aziraphale has been thinking about this request of his. Aziraphale presumes in 1862 that Crowley wants the Holy Water as a "suicide pill," and Crowley never corrects this assumption.

So, Aziraphale is under the impression that in 1967 he is giving Crowley a tool to use for his own destruction, if it comes to that.

He goes against Heaven and, from our understanding, steals Holy Water so he can give it to Crowley.

The implications of this are DEEP and COMPLEX. Because this is the FIRST time we see Aziraphale directly go against Heaven without any kind of moral out. He isn't saving Job's children. He's literally defying Heaven to protect Crowley from doing something stupid.

It's a purely selfish action that directly goes against Heaven.

This is HUGE for his character. And as I've talked about a bit in this post, I think by this point, Aziraphale was fully aware he was in love with Crowley.

This, THIS, is proof of his devotion to Crowley. Going against Heaven overtly to supply him with something he believes Crowley will use to end himself.

You can see Aziraphale's guilt and concern in this scene simply through how he choses when to look at Crowley and when to not (michael sheen, I'm in ur walls).

He looks at Crowley concerned when he talks about the church heist. He says as such. That he thinks it's too dangerous. He pointedly DOESN'T look at Crowley once he hands over the Holy Water. Like he can't bring himself to come to terms with what he's done. (Looking out for the person he loves by giving them a means of their own destruction.)

And this little interaction:

C: Should I say thank you? C: *looking at Aziraphale* A: *pointedly NOT looking at Crowley* A: Better not.

He doesn't want Crowley to thank him for what he perceives to be a sin. For giving him the ability to end himself. It hurts Aziraphale to think about. I think, even being in the car near Crowley hurts Aziraphale then.

Then we get the exchange at the end.

Crowley offering to drop Aziraphale off, which the angel denies.

Aziraphale clearly reading Crowley's disappointment and offering a fantasy of the future he doesn't believe they have in an attempt to cheer the demon up.

A: Perhaps one day we could, I don't know. Go for a picnic. A: *looking at Crowley now* A: Dine at the Ritz.

He looks at Crowley for the briefest of moments when he says "dine at the Ritz."

These things that Aziraphale is offering are normal, human pastimes. Nothing grand or overtly romantic. Just, a picnic. Dinner. It goes to show us how deeply Aziraphale loves humanity and recognizes that same love in Crowley (even if their love presents itself in different ways).

He's saying: one day, when I'm not me, and you're not you, we can do the things humans do. We can be simple.

And then, of course:

C: I'll give you a lift. Anywhere you want to go.

Crowley says this line almost desperately. He wants to stay in this moment. He wants to draw it out. This moment where this angel he's befriended cares for him so deeply that he'd risk everything.

I haven't talked much about Crowley in this scene because at this point in their relationship, and I know this is controversial, I don't think Crowley is in love with Aziraphale here.

I talked about it in the aforementioned post, but it's my interpretation of Crowley's character to be naturally distrusting of others. Which makes sense given his history.

I don't think he's in love with Aziraphale in 1967.

But I think he recognizes Aziraphale's love for him, even if only for the briefest moment. He sees Aziraphale's willingness to save Crowley from himself and knows that there is something there.

But he is SCARED. Big scared. And he doesn't know how to deal with the influx of information being presented to him.

And I think he reads between the lines of Aziraphale's words. He hears Aziraphale say: one day, when I'm not me, and you're not you...

I'll give you a lift. Anywhere you want to go. Is Crowley saying: You're saying we have to be different people, but we don't. I can take you right now to a picnic, to the Ritz. Nothing has to change. We can be us.

And Aziraphale says:

A: You go too fast for me, Crowley.

You go too fast for me, you treat life like a speedrun to get to the good parts. Hell, Crowley slept through the 19th century because he wanted time to move forward. Aziraphale recognizes this. He's in love with this demon who won't slow down and appreciate the mundane, human things that Aziraphale treasures. He goes too fast. He never settles down.

And I think this is a gross misunderstanding of Crowley's character on Aziraphale's part. He thinks Crowley is too fast and never settles down. Changes his hair, his clothes, his accent. But the clothes and the hair are all set dressings to Crowley. They are distractions from how set in his ways he truly is.

Crowley is s l o w to everything.

So slow that it scares the shit out of him and he overcompensates by re-inventing his image every chance he gets. He wants to blend in with his surroundings so he can be just like everybody else.

It's a deep self-hatred most likely instilled in him since before his Fall. He was not good enough for Heaven. He isn't bad enough for Hell. He can't even pass as a human because of his eyes. He doesn't fit anywhere.

So he could never fit with Aziraphale.

He doesn't even see it as an option.

Not yet, anyway.

Aziraphale misunderstands this as Crowley being unable to take time and care and put work into things that truly matter. Aziraphale thinks that they can't be together because they are too different. No matter how much he loves Crowley, Crowley is, and will always be, just a few steps ahead of him. He will always be just out of reach.

This scene is Aziraphale's confession and subsequent realization that they can never work.

This scene is Crowley understanding Aziraphale's feelings and his inability to process his own.

This scene is devastating. Because it's another miscommunication. It's a clear example of how these two understand each other, and, even after 6000 years, don't understand each other.

[mychapel-004]

something i've been thinking about post-portal fiddauthor

this could entirely be something i've just missed people discussing, but i haven't seen anyone mention before how this motel:

(presumably the place fiddleford relocates to after being kicked from the blind eye and having his memories taken)

is incredibly similar to the only other motel we see mentioned in the journal:

arguably twin bed motel is just a reference to twin peaks, or back to the future, or just the twins themselves, but honestly? the two seem like they could be the same motel. they're both out in the woods, surrounded by forest (presumably near route 14 and the truck stop ford has been frequenting) with pine tree motifs, and they're both out there in the snow. ford stays there for one night multiple weeks after the portal incident, sometime at the end of january or start of february, and fiddleford is there somewhere between day 189 and day 273.

that might seem like it puts a bit of a wrench in it, because it seems like fiddleford couldn't have been there at the same time if it has been 273 days since the portal incident, but this just adds to the theory that fiddleford is lying in his initial video diary and is filming the first four entries while still working with ford (which i want to make a post about if anyone is interested, i have a lot of evidence). so, with that theory, it is plausible that they are at this same motel at the same time, especially when you consider that neither ford nor fidd have a car at this point. ford's was destroyed shortly after he moved to GF by steve, and he seems to travel solely on foot since then, and fiddleford assumedly stops driving after day 189 when he accidentally hits another car on the road and breaks his arm. how many motels are accessible on foot in this area in the snow?

so two men, both tormented and driven to their limit by the same creature, the same project, unable to escape very far without transport end up in the same motel for one night weeks after their partnership fell apart. ford doesn't even make it inside, he collapses in the parking lot staring at the sign, thinking of the only person in the world who he could trust anymore. he says it himself, "F is nowhere to be found", "if only i had listened to him when i had the chance", but in reality fiddleford was metres away, holed up in a dingy room he rented with the last of his money, driving himself mad with paranoia.

the worst part is arguably that the video diary that takes place in the motel is the first one where we see the start of mcgucket vs fiddleford. his voice is pitchy and anxious, he's rambling about seeing something he didn't understand, he's hunched and scared and tearing out his own hair. he's stopped using the gun, most likely having been thrown out of the blind eye by now, but his mind is gone for good and he's continuing to decline without even using it. if ford had known F was there, just behind a door, and tried to see him, he wouldn't have seen the man he knew. at this point, fiddleford was gone either way. he would have been completely unrecognisable.

in another universe did he find him? did fiddleford see him through the window and try to place where he knew this man's face from, why his chest hurt so badly looking at him slumped over outside his window? did they figure it out instead of slipping past eachother again?

just like the few moments he spent with stanley before the accident, he fumbles and blanks the people around him without even trying, and fails to see past his own goals into how they affect others. he doesn't understand stan's anger at being sent away again, doesn't see fiddleford's collapse even though he's seemingly become known in the community for his very public deterioration, destroys the possibility of anyone "understanding what he's up against" because time and time again he doesn't tell them.

he believes that he needs to keep this information to himself, save the research even though its dangerous, stop others from knowing or they might steal it, but at the same time he needs help so badly and he needs stan and fidd to finish his plans, both to build the portal and to stop bill. but he lets them walk in blind every time, refusing to share what he knows, all under the name of that sly piece of advice bill gave him, "trust no-one." even though, what bill really meant is "trust no-one but me".

arguably it's the same habit which leads to weirdmaggeddon, he doesn't tell anyone but dipper, the child he sees himself in, about the rift or about the truth of his relationship with bill. if mabel knew, she would never have given bill the rift, or felt left out enough to run and be vulnerable, which lends so much more to his character post-BOB, where he's finally opening up to the people around him. he's reunited with his family and fidd, they all know his embarrassing secrets and the things he tried to hide about himself, about him and bill. and it's okay. if anything it makes him more human, more flawed but more relatable. and at the end of it all, F is there, as forgiving and kind and understanding as he always has been, with no door in the way this time.

[lemoniiiiiii]

things never change (pt. 2)

(post-prison!warren lipka x fem!reader) in where you cross paths with an old friend

content: angst, some fluff? maybe?

a/n: this was really fun to write in the most awful way my heart is sobbing. but i've always wanted to write a post-prison!warren fic so.. yay?

part 2 requested by @tracysent!

(here's part 1 if you haven't read)

--

when warren had left your unconscious body on the couch he returned to ghosting you. you thought you'd never see him again, until about a year later when your mom called you and told you to put on the news. "4 college students arrested for attempted robbery at transylvania university" was the headline. the story dominated local channels for weeks.

ultimately, your father never pressed charges against warren for stealing his painting. the monet remained exactly where it had been, still the centerpiece of the room—though now sporting a few dings and dents on the frame. nothing you couldn't replace without him noticing.

when your father heard the news, he practically jumped for joy.

"i told you that boy was nothing but trouble!" he exclaimed, his hands planted firmly on his hips as the screen showed four figures in orange jumpsuits walking out of the courthouse. "i'm glad he got out of your life when he did. couldn't imagine what it would've been like if, god forbid, he had gotten you wrapped up in something like this."

warren had already broken your heart twice. this time, he completely shattered your sense of self. did he ever care about you? had he only gotten close because you were well-off? or was it that the painting on the wall, the dream of quick riches, was just so much more enticing and valuable to him than you were?

you had talked to him about it before... dreams. warren fantasized about a life, outside of kentucky, maybe starting on a yacht in the bahamas and then traveling the world. it seemed so outlandish from the empty parking lot you were sharing a joint in, but you admired his ambition. to think you would've followed that idiot anywhere he went. hell and back. anything he would do, anything he went through, you would've been by his side. but now the reality was clear: your relationship was a one-way street that went miles on.

even though that night he had told you that he missed you, that he loved you while you lay underneath him. it was all just a mental diversion. a way to keep you docile while he served the only person he loved: himself.

it took years to put yourself back together, to trust again, to believe that someone could love you without an ulterior motive.

then that near decade of work— therapy, long conversations with friends, countless nights of self-reflection— was put to the test in one moment.

"..y/n?"

you looked up from your laptop, startled. there, standing before you in a philadelphia café, was none other than warren lipka. his long hair, once wild and untamed, was now brushed back, though a few loose waves still escaped from behind his ears, giving him that same effortlessly disheveled look you had once found so endearing. he had grown a short beard, the kind that hinted at maturity but still carried a touch of the boyish charm you remembered. despite the years that had passed, his face was almost exactly as you remembered—those sharp, familiar features that had once been the center of your world.

especially that damn smile of his.

"mind if i sit?"

you nodded, motioning to the chair across from you. part of you wondered if you were hallucinating. after all, with work, you hadn't been getting much sleep lately.

"i almost didn't come over, you know—didn't think it was you," he admitted, taking a seat. "but you know what tipped me off? that necklace."

you looked down at the delicate silver necklace, the one your grandmother had given you on your 16th birthday. the pendant, a small locket engraved with intricate floral designs, had once been her most cherished possession. when she placed it around your neck, she had told you stories of her youth, of love lost and found, of the strength she had needed to build a life on her own. she had smiled at you, her eyes filled with pride and warmth, and said, "this is yours now. a reminder that you're never truly alone, no matter where life takes you."

after she passed, the necklace became more than just a piece of jewelry. it was a tangible connection to her, to her wisdom and her love, something that kept you grounded when the world felt too overwhelming. you took a vow to never take it off for any reason, except to clean it. to you, it was as much a part of you as your own heartbeat.

you had shared this with warren one night, during one of your midnight dates. about your grandmother, about the promise you’d made to yourself regarding the necklace. it wasn’t a story you shared with many people, and when you spoke, you did so almost absentmindedly, not expecting him to truly listen. but he did.

"when did you…?" you started to ask, unsure how to finish. no one had told you warren had been released.

"almost three years ago," he replied, looking down at the table. "did seven years and some change."

"wow…" the word slipped out before you could stop it. warren, who had valued his youth so much and feared wasting his life away, had lost the entirety of his 20's just like that. the fact that he had come out on the other side seemingly unscathed was astounding.

as the conversation continued, you found yourself slipping back into an easy rhythm with warren, the years of distance and pain seeming to fade with each exchange. he told you about how he had decided to go back to school for filmmaking. it was a surprise, but also somehow made perfect sense. warren had always been drawn to storytelling, whether it was through his wild, grandiose dreams of the future or the way he could captivate an entire room with a well-spun tale.

“it’s funny,” he said, leaning back in his chair, a spark of enthusiasm lighting up his eyes. “after everything, i realized i wanted to create something that actually mattered. something that could make people feel, you know? i guess sitting in a cell for years gives you a lot of time to think about what you really want to do with your life.”

you nodded, genuinely impressed by his determination. “filmmaking suits you, warren. i can see you doing great things with it.”

“thanks, it’s been a journey, but i’m excited to see where it leads.”

when the conversation shifted to your career, warren listened intently as you shared how you had built a successful career in business consulting. you explained how you had worked your way up, navigating the corporate world with determination and a relentless drive to succeed. you spoke of the challenges you faced, the late nights, the difficult decisions, and the satisfaction of seeing your efforts pay off. it wasn't quite what you imagined for yourself all those years ago but you were happy with what you had.

“yeah, i could tell you were a big shot,” warren grinned. “there was never a doubt in my mind that you wouldn’t be.”

“thanks…” you replied, a shy smile tugging at your lips.

there was a brief pause, and you noticed warren’s expression shift to an almost hesitant look. he leaned forward slightly, his eyes locking onto yours in a way that made your heart skip a beat.

“can i say something?” he asked, his voice softening with a sincerity that was almost disarming. “might be crossing a line, but i have to say it… you look just as fucking beautiful as the last time i saw you.”

the world stood still, frozen, as you processed his words. you felt your breath catch, your pulse quicken as you searched his eyes for any sign of insincerity, but all you found was a raw honesty that left you momentarily speechless.

“warren…” the way he was looking at you, as if no time had passed at all, threw you for a loop.

"i know, i know," he chuckled, looking down as he fiddled with a sugar packet. "don't want to get myself in trouble with your husband—or wife… whatever…"

"i'm… actually single…"

warren stopped fiddling with the sugar packet and looked up at you, his gaze steady. he didn't move his head, just stared at you for a long moment before shifting in his chair, his eyes drifting off to the young couple seated nearby. you had noticed them too when you first walked in.

"make sense kinda... you're genuinely too good for anybody, anyway. deserve way better than what most people have to offer.."

a heavy silence settled between you and the sounds of the bustling café faded into the background, except for the laughter of the couple nearby. their easy, carefree joy was a stark contrast to the weight of the moment you were sharing with warren. each second of silence felt like an eternity, amplifying the pain and confusion swirling inside you.

finally, warren broke the silence. "i’m sorry—and i know that when i say that word, you have no reason to believe me—but i am. it haunts me, the things i've done… leaving you there…" you could see the struggle in his eyes, the guilt that had clearly been gnawing at him for years.

you wanted to brush it off, to protect yourself from the flood of emotions that his words were stirring up. "that was 10 years ago," you replied quickly. "no need to bring it up."

warren shook his head, not ready to let it go. "i just wanted you to know that i loved you...i tried to convince myself that i didn’t… that what we had wasn’t real. i hadn’t even planned on seeing you again until i got desperate for cash and wanted to skip town. my biggest mistake was leaving your bed that night."

his words hit you like a tidal wave, crashing over the walls you had so carefully built around your heart. tears began welling up in your eyes, the sting of emotions you thought you had buried long ago. you turned your head, looking away, desperately trying to compose yourself, to regain the control that was slipping through your fingers.

but then, warren's hands gently clasped around yours. the warmth of his touch was both familiar and jarring, sending a shiver through you. you had thought you were over this—over him. you had convinced yourself that seeing him again would be nothing more than a footnote in your life, a chance to hear him out and move on, finally closing that chapter for good.

but all those preparations, all the mental rehearsals of how you would remain composed, indifferent even, had crumbled the moment he smiled at you. that damn smile, the one that had always been able to disarm you, to make you forget all the reasons you should be guarded.

as he held your hands, you could feel the sincerity in his grip, the way his fingers tightened slightly, as if he was afraid to let go, afraid that you might slip away again. the flood of memories, the good and the bad, rushed back, and the tears that had been threatening to spill finally broke free. you blinked rapidly, trying to push them back. you didn’t want him to see you like this, to know just how much he still affected you.

warren’s gaze softened as he watched you, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears. “i know i don’t deserve your forgiveness,” he whispered, his voice cracking slightly. “but i need you to know that i never stopped thinking about you. even when i tried to convince myself that it was over, that we were done… i couldn’t let go. i still can’t.”

part of you wanted to pull away. but another part, the part that had loved him so fiercely all those years ago, wanted to hold on, to see if maybe, just maybe, there was still something left to salvage.

"i don't know if i can do this again... i- i hear you... i believe you it's just-"

“i understand,” he said quietly. “and i don’t expect you to just forgive me, or even give me a second chance. i’ve made too many mistakes for that. but… i want to try. i want to make things right. even if that means starting over, from scratch, just as friends.”

“friends,” you repeated, testing the word on your tongue. it felt strange, almost foreign, to think of warren as anything other than the boy who had broken your heart. but maybe, just maybe, this could be a new beginning—a way to heal, to move forward without being shackled by the past. "i'd like that"

"me too."

[eretzyisrael]

Dear American Jews,

I don't pretend to know what's going to happen in the US, but I can tell you stories from France.

In hindsight, it was after the 1970s PLO and FPLP great terror waves, but when more Arabs began living and feeling at home in France. 

Between them and the "GUD", some extreme-right militia/student group which somehow also got more active . the harassment in synagogues and Jewish cultural centers began rising.

The wide, ornate XIXth century wooden door of our quiet synagogue closed except for a few hours a year, when MANY policemen were around. Its internal panel was reinforced in steel. The beautiful stained glass windows were covered from the outside, and small electric lights installed behind them.

We got used to come in via the small service entrance, where 2-3 volunteers opened only on demand, and came out to "chat" with any unknown person requesting entry before giving the OK.

The lackadaisy, grey-haired cop in front, who used to chat up the kids and whistle cartoons tunes for us, disappeared. In his place came either a small van with 5 "CRS" (the "assault" cops) in it, or only 2 CRS, twice as big as our old friend it seemed, with ceramic vest and actual rifles.  

They never ruffled our hair , but looked severe and intent. Barely accepted the plates of food us kids would bring out for them from the synagogue buffet (that one did get to thaw them, though. They liked the food).

The crowd in front of the entrance disappeared, too. Either our security or the cops would order us to "disperse" quickly after the service.

Then came "incidents" in a few other places, and after them the parking interdiction before the door was extended almost all over the block. Didn't make us many friends with the neighbors, I can tell you.

Then a few kids were accosted when they crossed the street, and after many discussions with the municipality a cop appeared there, too. 

Then, as we got a little older, many kids were recruited for the security duty. We had krav-maga and "calling in the MORE serious police" procedures lessons,  and such.  I think if you're not a religious Jew, it's difficult to understand the feeling of a religious teenager actually switching a walkie-talkie on, on a Saturday morning before prayer, under the eyes of the rabbi , IN THE SYNAGOGUE.

 Something akin to spitting on a crucifix but knowing it's ok? Dunno. You feel both important and wrong. Mainly wrong. 

Then, somewhere, a car came on to a synagogue and the guys inside opened fire on the entrance, which was left open (there. There. In our place it wouldn't have happened). The cops before the door just went splat on the pavement and waited for it to be over, and it was the civil volunteer, a middle-aged dad with a belly, who closed the door.

Mucho honor to the security volunteers, mucho stress. That was around the year we almost called the SWATs on the  cousin of a friend, who looked Middle Eastern, rode in the quiet street too fast on his big bike, and pretended to come in with his helmet on (the stupid, stupid macho stupidness of 19yo boys).

On and on. Year after year it's become worse. Now you need a special password to read the synagogue's website, and there's a digicode at the entrance, ON TOP of the security volunteers and the cops.

Now nobody needs to tell the crowd to disperse, everybody says their goodbyes inside and leaves quickly.

I haven't been back since October 7, but my friends tell me of graffiti and threatening flyers, of parents who've taken the kids out of the Sunday school.

They're resigned, but I've become too much an Israeli already. I'm angry.

Now I know we should have hired frightening rent-a-cops back then already, the kind the hoodlums don't approach if they know what's good for them.

We shouldn't have burrowed inside and kindly asked the police for perhaps another cop on  the other side of the street, but stormed the accosters and given them hell.

In the 90es, protecting a Jewish outdoor fair, I became  familiarized with the "wonderful" uses of a soda can full of rocks and kitchen knives, courtesy of the Paris suburbs "shabab" (didn't know the word back then). 

We should have seen it coming. Now it's your turn.

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Hopelessly devoted to you

PAIRING | Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Female!Reader

WORD COUNT | 4.1K

SUMMARY | You and Bucky have been pining over each other for a long time, but both of you are too afraid to take the next step. This all comes to a halt when Tony throws a Grease-themed party, and the two of you dress up as the main characters in the movie.

WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning, do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Two idiots in love, too much love for the movie Grease.

A/N | SO, I was watching Grease again, and this idea popped in my head and hasn't left my brain so far, so you can all enjoy it with me. I will forever have a crush on John Travolta in that movie so now I'm turning it into my other crush aka Bucky Barnes 👀

RIP Olivia Newton-John, you were the best Sandy we all could have wished for 🖤

Likes and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💜

Main Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist | Read on AO3

It is your turn tonight to pick out the movie night, and you have been wanting to watch your guilty pleasure film again for as long as you can remember, even though not everyone is as into it as you are. ''None of you have a choice, we're watching Grease tonight!'' you said with the widest smile on your face you can make. You heard multiple grunts from your fellow Avengers, they already know you will sing along to every single song, and they weren't happy about it. It's not because you can't sing, they have all praised you multiple times for the fact that you can sing well, but you just get very much into it. ''I'm looking forward to it, doll, I haven't seen it,'' Bucky said, and your mouth practically fell on the floor. ''You're kidding me, right? Oh, you have to sit next to me because now I want to know your reaction!'' you said happily before running out of the kitchen to get the snacks for tonight.

''What?'' he said quirking an eyebrow, he didn't understand what was going on. ''Oh you're gonna have quite the experience tonight, there's a reason we usually don't sit near her when she picks the movies,'' Sam told him with a bit of a snicker in his voice. ''Well, I think it's going to be fun, and I don't mind sitting close to Y/N during movie night,'' Bucky said with a shrug, you usually snuggled up to him and he didn't mind, it was always the highlight of his day. Tonight wasn't any different, he even bought you an extra soft and warm blanket to use during movie nights since you always ran colder than the average person. You didn't hear any of the conversations that were going on, and even though you were mostly fine with it, it still stung a little that they reacted that way when you chose the movies.

You texted Bucky that you were going to the grocery store to pick up the snacks, and he asked if you could maybe pick up some Reese's peanut butter cups for him, and you would gladly do so. You went to the parking garage and walked over to your bike, it was a beautiful day and you could easily fit snacks in both your bike as well as your backpack. It was also a good way to clear your head a little bit, so you drove around New York for a bit, towards your favorite place in the whole city with a beautiful view of the Statue of Liberty. Ever since you came here many years ago, you could never get enough of seeing it, and you parked your bike before sitting down with your back against a tree, looking at the view.

After sitting there for 30 minutes, you decide to FaceTime Bucky, because you were still not feeling all too well. ''Oh, I've got to take this,'' Bucky said to everyone before quickly walking to his bedroom, he didn't want everyone to know it was you FaceTiming him. ''Hi doll, what's going on?'' he said as he picked up, the phone perched up against the wall in his kitchenette as he prepared a snack. ''Hey, not much, just feeling a little shitty about what happened earlier. I was honestly really looking forward to watching Grease, but now I feel like I should have picked something else,'' you said, trying to fight back the tears. ''You know they're just assholes, right? They don't get to make my girl feel like that,'' he said and your stomach did a little flip when he said that.

He often called you his girl when he was talking to you, but never to anyone else, which was exactly why he walked away from the rest. ''Yeah, I know, but that doesn't make it suck any less though. Thought maybe a bike ride through the city would help, but as evident by the phone call, it didn't,'' you said and gave a weak smile. ''Doll, look at me, please. If you're not up for it, we could watch the movie, just the two of us, tonight, and the rest can all watch a shitty movie that no one likes anyway,'' he offered, but you shook your head. ''Thanks, but that would only mean I'll give in to them and I will never give them that satisfaction,'' you said with a giggle. ''I'm just gonna head to the store and get ready for the movie night, I wanna snuggle up to my favorite super soldier again tonight. You might want to warn Steve he won't be sitting alone tonight,'' you said laughing, but Bucky looked at you with a serious expression.

''Just kidding cowboy, don't get so riled up!'' you said with a laugh. ''You're the only one I want to snuggle with and you know it,'' and Bucky's expression softened immediately, and a twinkling appeared in his eyes. God, you were so over the moon for that man, but you were just too afraid to take the first step. So for now, you would be perfectly content with flirting and snuggling during movie nights. ''Alright, now let's go to the store before I'll die of hunger without my Reese's,'' Bucky said dramatically. ''Okay okay, going now! See you later,'' you said before waving goodbye and hanging up. Talking to him always made you feel better.

When you finally made it to the store you decided to grab Bucky's favorite cookies too as a surprise, together with the Reese's because he helped you feel better earlier, it was the least you could do. The drive back to the Compound was much better, and before you knew it you were back in the parking garage. ''Hi doll, how are you feeling now?'' Bucky said when he walked in, hands in his pockets as he looked you up and down, he was gone for you the second he learned you love riding your motorbike too, just like him. ''A lot better thanks to you. Would you mind helping me with the groceries? I got a lot more than intended,'' you said and he happily agreed. When everything was stashed away you muttered a thank you before kissing him on the corner of his mouth, leaving him stunned for a good few minutes.

''Buck? Everything okay?'' Steve asked when he walked into the kitchen, and he saw Bucky standing there with a huge grin on his face, cupping his cheek where you kissed him minutes earlier. ''Yeah...'' he sighed but the grin never left his face. ''Okay, let's get you out of here before you're growing attached to the floor,'' Steve said laughing, he knew damn well this was your doing. Bucky has told him all about his crush on you numerous times, he told him every single thing he noticed about you that made his heart race, or gave him goosebumps. ''God, I never thought I could ever be in love with someone so badly,'' he once told Steve, and it was a good look on him. Better than the grumpy persona he usually shows.

~ During movie night ~

''Everyone ready?'' you asked and the sigh you heard didn't go unnoticed by you, but you started the movie regardless before walking over to Bucky, who was all ready for you with the blanket he got you a while back. ''Hi doll,'' he said softly with a smile as you sat down, this time wasting no time to snuggle up to Bucky as he rested his arm across your shoulders. You didn't bother looking behind you, instead focussing completely on the movie, and as soon as the opening scene on the beach started, you got goosebumps. There were snacks opened and drinks shared around, and everyone got comfortable. As much as they acted to not like it, they still enjoyed watching it now and again. You kept looking over at Bucky to see his reaction at certain points, and you were belting along with every single song in the movie.

When your favorite song arrived, you couldn't help but sing it for Bucky, especially now that he was sitting right next to you. The moment Sandy started singing ''Hopelessly Devoted To You'', you couldn't take your eyes off of him, or more specifically off of his lips. He listened to your voice, god he could listen to you singing forever and never get sick of it. When the last notes of the song died down, Bucky softly leaned into you. When your lips barely brushed past each other, Tony almost choked on his drink and both of your faces snapped up to him to see if he was okay. He made a motion that showed he was okay now, but the moment between you and Bucky was gone, so you turned back to the movie, sighing deeply and laying your head on Bucky's shoulder.

The rest of the movie was more of the same, you singing along and the rest of the Avengers just having fun watching the movie while eating snacks. When the movie was over, everyone stayed for a little while and talked about the movie, just like they did every time you chose the movie. You and Bucky were in a deep discussion about what he thought about it, and he couldn't stop mentioning how good you would look if you would wear those kinds of outfits. ''I think it would suit you, doll. You'd fit perfectly into the 40s with a dress like that,'' he said with a wink, and you can't help but think about that a little more. ''You two can talk about your roleplaying fantasies when we're not here!'' Tony joked and you turned bright red, it was almost as if he read your mind.

During your discussion with Bucky, neither of you heard about the fact that Tony wanted to throw a Grease-themed party for the two of you to finally get together. Everyone sees how much you've been pining over one another so this would be the perfect moment. ''So? Will the two of you come to my party too?'' Tony said after that. ''Party?'' ''What party?'' Bucky and you asked at the same time. ''My costume party of course! I think the two of you should get dressed as Sandy and Danny from Grease, don't you think?'' he asked the rest of them agreed wholeheartedly. You looked at Bucky and shrugged your shoulders. ''Sounds like fun, I'll be there. What about you, Buck?'' you looked at him with hopeful eyes. He wasn't planning on going, but when you look at him like that, he couldn't possibly say no. ''Sure, but I won't dress up!'' he said with a grunt.

~ The days leading up to Tony's party ~

The last few days, you've been more excited than ever to go to one of Tony's parties. In all fairness, the most time was spent convincing Bucky to dress up too, and he finally gave in after you showed him the outfit you were going to wear. It truly reminded him of his past and he almost bent you over his kitchen counter right then and there when you walked out in your costume, but he didn't want to ruin your friendship by doing that. He didn't know that you were secretly hoping he'd do just that, because that is the exact reason you showed him, but he didn't give in. ''Oh, I can't wait to see what you will look like in your costume! Although, there's not much of a change to your look from now...'' you said, Bucky usually wore all black with a leather jacket anyways.

The one thing you didn't tell Bucky, however, is that you were planning on doing an outfit change to truly catch his attention, which may or may not have been Tony's idea. At first, you were against it, but when he explained his plan, you accepted it eventually. ''Also, I don't think I'll be able to get much dancing in during the party, since Tony asked me to be the singer of the evening instead of hiring someone,'' you told him. ''Really? That's amazing doll, I love hearing your voice when you sing,'' he said before you walked back into his bathroom to change into your regular clothing again. ''Did you maybe want to go for a ride when I'm changed?'' you ask him, and he turns bright red, still thinking about you in the outfit you just wore and what he wanted to do to you.

''Uh, only if you want to, doll,'' he said and he tried to look busy when you walked out in your normal clothes. ''Well, I wouldn't ask if I didn't want to,'' you said with a laugh. ''It would be nice to ride around the city with both our bikes again. Maybe you could give me a tour of Brooklyn while we're at it? I recall you saying you've been wanting to do that for a while,'' you said and he finally realized what you were saying. ''Oh, yeah you're right! Do you want to take both? I think it might be nice if we take mine so I could give you a nice tour of Brooklyn,'' he said, hoping you would say yes. ''We could maybe even bring some snacks for the ride?'' and with that, you agreed. ''Okay, but only if I get to choose the snacks!'' you say and walk out the door to get ready. ''It's a date!'' he says and you smile before closing the door.

Both of you changed into more appropriate clothes to wear on his motorbike before he took you on the tour, and it was a sight to behold. The two of you drove through Brooklyn for hours, mostly because Bucky constantly slowed down or stopped somewhere to tell you all about his memories, and it truly felt special to share this moment with him. Just the two of you, not a single care in the world, sharing memories that he can still remember after everything that has been done to him. When the sun started to go down, Bucky drove to a bit of a secluded spot where you won't be seen so easily, so the two of you could enjoy the sunset together without being bothered. The downside of being an Avenger is that everyone wanted something from you most of the time, and this would ensure that wouldn't happen.

''Oh wow, I love it here Bucky,'' you tell him as you overlook grassy fields and the sun starting to sink behind them. ''I hoped you would, I like to think of this as my - and now our - special place,'' he said with a soft look on his face, while he gave you a little smile. He sat down against a tree after getting the snacks you brought with you as well as some drinks you brought with you. He spread his legs out in front of him and invited you to sit in between them, which you gladly accepted. Your back was resting against his chest which you could slowly feel rising and falling, your head laying against his shoulder and his arms wrapped delicately around your waist, hands resting on your stomach. Neither of you wanted this moment to end.

''Thank you for everything, Bucky. You're honestly the best friend I could have ever wished for,'' you tell him, and Bucky feels something inside him snap at the word 'friend'. Because that's all you were at this moment, friends. ''You always know exactly how to make me feel like the most special person in the world, and I honestly wouldn't want to have it any other way,'' you told him before letting out a sigh and sinking into his hold even more, your cheek resting just below his collarbone. ''I love you, doll,'' he said at that moment, he couldn't keep it in any longer, and right now seemed like the perfect moment to tell you. You looked up at him with wide eyes, wondering if you heard him right. ''Buck...'' you said, and you saw his face fall when you said that. ''No, Buck, listen to me. I love you too, so incredibly much, and I'm very happy to spend this beautiful evening with you right now,'' you said as you put a hand on his cheek, softly brushing through his stubble.

''I can think of a way to make it even more perfect, though,'' Bucky said and he leaned in to kiss you, but something in this universe didn't want the two of you to kiss. You could feel each other's breaths on your lips as they brushed together ever so subtly when his phone rang and disturbed the moment, snapping both of you out of it right away. ''I'm going to kill whoever is on the other end of that fucking phone,'' he said as he fished his phone out of his pocket, and he saw it was Steve calling. ''What do you want, Rogers?'' he snarled at the man on the other end. ''Wow, Buck, easy! Did I interrupt something?'' he asked and Bucky just grunted as a response, he wasn't going to tell him the two of you almost kissed before he had to ruin it.

''Well, the reason I'm calling is because I need both of you back at the Compound as soon as possible, Fury is sending everyone on an emergency mission and we need everyone so you two lovebirds better get here now,'' he said with a chuckle. ''Fuck off, Rogers. We'll be there,'' he said before quickly hanging up. He immediately softened up when he looked at you, ''I'm so sorry doll, but we have to go back to the Compound for an emergency mission that everyone is required to go on,'' he said with a sigh. ''I think we're gonna have to resume our perfect night another time,'' you said before giving a peck on his cheek. ''Want me to ride back this time?'' you ask, even though Bucky usually didn't let anyone else ride his bike beside himself. ''Okay, but you better not tell anyone before everyone wants to do it!'' he said and the both of you got on.

~ The evening of Tony's party ~

The mission went even better than expected, and now it was finally time to enjoy Tony's party. You haven't seen Bucky all day today, but you got ready a bit earlier since you were preparing to sing that night, and your hair and make-up were perfect for your first outfit. Towards the end of the night, you would go and change into the iconic outfit Sandy wears at the end of the movie, but no one besides you and Tony knew about that plan. He brought up the idea and even though you were a little unsure at first, Tony managed to convince you to do it. Right now, you were wearing a light pink dress with dots on it and the biggest petticoat you could find, making you feel like a real-life doll. You sent Bucky a picture of your finished outfit, and he couldn't believe his eyes, you looked perfect.

He had asked Nat to help him out with his outfit, or more specifically his hair, because he wanted to go all out for you and there was only one way to do just that. Nat was cutting his hair to look exactly like that of Danny's in the movie and even though it was a big change, he has been thinking about cutting his hair for a long time. Nat saw the picture and couldn't get over how gorgeous you look right now. ''She went all out for it, she's the most beautiful woman at the party tonight,'' she said. She would dress up as Rizzo and Wanda would go as Frenchie, with some other female colleagues dressing as Marty and Jan.

The T-birds would consist of Bucky as Danny, and Steve, Tony, Clint, Scott, and Thor would dress up as the rest of their friend group. When Nat was done and Bucky's hair was styled, he was honestly unrecognizable at this moment. His clothes looked the same as he always wore, but the hair made him look handsome, and a lot younger which suited him. ''If Y/N won't make a move now, she really must have hit her head, because you look irresistible,'' Nat said with a wink before walking out the door to get dressed. ''Have fun tonight, and keep me posted,'' she said and Bucky just laughed, all he needed to do now was shave and the look would be complete.

By the time 8 PM arrived, people were slowly trickling into the party room, but Tony gave strict instructions to everyone that no one would be allowed to wear the iconic Sandy look, and everyone listened. You were getting ready to sing for tonight and you started with a few songs that were fitting in the world of Grease, and the people were taking photos and videos of you singing, this would honestly be a good boost for your social profile and you didn't mind it at all, you loved to sing anyways. By the time Tony officially announced that the party started, the band began playing the tune of the opening song and most of the guests sang right along while dancing.

You sang a few songs, and finally, you spotted Bucky at the bar talking to Steve, and he occasionally looked over at you. When you realized he completely changed himself, you really couldn't wait to surprise him later. He shot a few winks the way that made you falter a little in your singing, but no one seemed to notice, and you were glad you could finally announce that you would take a short break and be back later for the finale of your songs, after which a DJ would take over the music. Bucky wasn't the only one transforming, you went to the hairdressers earlier to dye your hair blond to completely undergo your transformation.

''Alright, let's get you out of these clothes and into the clothes Sandy would wear,'' Tony said and you did as he said, not caring he was in the room because you had a bit of a time limit right now, and you still needed to do your hair and make-up too. Tony had gotten Nat out of the crowd to help you with your hair and she audibly gasped when she saw you in the new outfit. ''Damn, if Bucky isn't going to make a move on you now, I'm taking you with me tonight!'' she joked and you laughed when we put on the shoes. ''So, if you do my hair, I'll do my make-up and then I'll go back out,'' you said, and within 30 minutes you were completely transformed and ready to go back out.

Nat already went back into the room and took Bucky front and center to the stage, so he could witness your transformation firsthand, even though he didn't want to. ''Come on, it'll be her last song of the night, so you have to be there to show your support!'' she said and after some more convincing he and the rest of the Avengers made their way to the front of the room. The starting notes of 'You're The One That I Want' started playing and you walked out in your outfit, getting audible gasps from every single person in the room. Bucky couldn't believe what he saw, and his mouth was hanging open when you walk on stage and started singing. Not to the room, no, you sang for Bucky.

Towards the end of the song you pulled him on stage, and when the song ended, you seductively walked up to him and grabbed him by the back of his neck before planting your lips on his, finally getting the kiss both of you have been craving for so long. He immediately deepened it and it earned both of you a few shouts of approval from the room before letting go. ''Fuck, you look gorgeous, doll. Can't take my eyes off of you now,'' he said before going in for more kissing. This time he pulled away from the kiss first, and you finally told him what has been on your mind this whole time. ''Bucky, do you want to be the Danny to my Sandy, and be my boyfriend?'' you said, and he nodded happily, kissing you in a response while grabbing you closer, and that was the perfect start of the rest of your lives together.

[magicalrocketships]

I adore your deaged max AU! Curious if while max is small, if daniel and him celebrate any holidays together? How does max feel about them? Do they establish any traditions? :)

I don't think this version of Max is particularly excited by Christmas, but he does like lights, and being with Daniel, so I've combined them together for them to have a little outing of their own. And because I personally love lights in the middle of winter.

This follows on - with a few days unaccounted for (because I haven't written them, but they've been staying with Christian and Geri) - from this part I posted yesterday. Max was a tiny toddler but now he's back to being seven.

(this link shows the stuff I’ve already posted in chronological order if the tag isn't working.)

Happy holidays, pals. 🧡

The day after New Year's Day, Daniel takes Max to visit an Enchanted Light Trail. It's only on for another couple of days, and a lot of local schools have gone back today so it's quiet when Daniel parks the car. It's already mostly dark, and Max, seven years old again and interested, almost stumbles out of the car. He's in his new wellington boots, with a puffy winter coat that Daniel has to spend two minutes talking him into getting zipped up. Then a scarf and a hat and gloves. Max is unconvinced by them all, especially the gloves, but when he sees Daniel wearing a pair too, he concedes to keep them on.

He slips his hand into Daniel's, and asks if it's going to be loud. Max doesn't always like loud. He's not loved sharing Daniel with the other people in Christian and Geri's house over the past few days, and he is not quite over being left behind with Monty and a babysitter when Daniel and the others went to the Red Bull New Year's Eve Extravaganza. So: a little treat that's just for Daniel and Max together, alone, now that Max is back to being seven.

"Not loud," Daniel says. "Just lots of nice lights, and a place to see animals, and we can have hot chocolate." He shoulders his backpack, which also has a thermos flask of tomato soup and some bread and butter in little pieces in a lunch box. He's learned from experience that Max will experiment with experiences more than he'll experiment with unfamiliar food in unfamiliar places. "But I've brought tomato soup too."

"Okay," Max says, only semi-dubiously. He's so serious sometimes. Daniel lets him think through whatever he's thinking about as they wander through the car park and up to the little ticket booth. He'd bought tickets for them online, so he only has to wave his phone screen at a bored teenager who wishes them a desultory happy new year to be given a little trail map and a token to get through the gate.

Daniel lets Max feed the token into the entrance gate, and then they're inside the farm park, and at the start of a path lined with trees wound with hundreds of tiny, coloured lights. The branches are also lined with lights, and even Daniel is almost floored by how pretty it is.

"Oh," Max says, in sheer unadulterated wonder.

Daniel for a single, desperate second, wants to cry. Every moment with Max might be his last. It had been awful enough when he'd been sitting next to a little chunky three year old Max a couple of days ago, and he'd had to squeeze his eyes shut and almost couldn't bear to open them again in case it was a grown up Max sitting next to him, desperate to get away from him.

But it was this Max, Daniel's Max, his seven year old, his favourite seven year old on the planet.

It doesn't mean grief doesn't sit, tentative and yearning, on the edge of everything he experiences.

"Do you like it, Maxy-Max?"

Max nods so hard his hat almost falls off, and Daniel has to stop to make sure it's on properly and keeping Max warm.

"Good," Daniel says, and he lets Max set the pace as they wander down the track towards the barns. The next part of the path doesn't have little Christmas lights, but the trees are lit in purples, greens, and are wrapped in starlight skies, little spotlights along the ground turning the trees into beautiful swathes of colour.

Max looks up at him in wonder. "Like the nightlight at home," he says, clutching Daniel's hand. The nightlight in Max's bedroom at Daniel's projects colours and stars across the ceiling. Max hasn't been home with Daniel in a while. It doesn't mean it isn't his home too. It'll always be his home, even if Max grows up and stays grown up and stays a long way away from Daniel like he does now.

"Just like the nightlight at home," Daniel agrees.

The Enchanted Light Trail is supposed to be a 60-90 minute experience, but it takes them almost half an hour even to reach the barns where the farm animals are. Max loves the colours, and the trees, and the lights — just like Daniel had hoped he would. Max had liked going to the zoo that time, and he likes colouring in, and he likes things that are just him and Daniel, so it had made sense when Daniel googled that this was the thing he would pick to get them out of Christian and Geri's hair for a bit.

If Max doesn't get big again in the few days or so, Daniel's taking him back to Monaco, and he doesn't care what Christian says about the pre-season work Max is supposed to be doing here. Daniel's Max's guardian, nobody else. And he wants to take Max home.

"What happens if you are scared?" Max asks, before they go into the barns. He always asks about Daniel being scared, and not him.

"If I'm scared or if you're scared," Daniel tells him, just like every time, "then we can come back out here. That's fine."

"Okay," Max says, and his face is a picture of fierce determination. Daniel's seen that face before, a hundred thousand times, before and after races. It's funny to see it reflected on such a little Max, a Max that just doesn't have any of grown up Max's competitive spirit in him. Daniel gives him a moment to acclimatise, and then Max nods and they go inside.

The barns have also been lit up in swathes of pretty colours. The animals seem quite happy, and they see the rabbits and the sheep and the goats. Max refuses to go near the goats, even though the farm staff say he can help feed them. That is a solid no, which Daniel understands entirely because the last time they met a goat together at the zoo that time, it had tried to eat Max's hair for dinner and Max had cried. Instead, they stand against the opposite wall of the barn, as far away from the goats as possible, and Trixie, who works at the farm, points out each of the goats in turn and tells Max their names.

Max puts up with this for three minutes, which Daniel counts as 150% a win, and then they say thank you and move on to the next barn. This one has cows in it, and one moos loudly as they come in. Max bravely does not nope out, but they stay away from the gates. One of the cows is called Strawberry, which Max finds hilarious. Daniel suggests some other very silly names for cows even as they go and look at the pigs and meet a horse dressed for the season in a big knitted scarf and blanket. There are chickens, and more rabbits, and a dog, which Daniel suspects isn't part of the attraction in general and that Max is very cautious of. Daniel is too, but he tries not to let it show.

Then it's time for the 'things to do' barn, which has some little tables for crafts and a cafe at the other side. Max doesn't want to make Christmas crafts and he doesn't want to join a table with other people on, but there are some tables with pictures to colour in and some crayons and pencils. He settles himself at one of the tables, and tells Daniel that it's okay if Daniel crosses the barn to get them some orange juice (Max) and some hot chocolate (Daniel). Daniel keeps turning around to find Max watching him with his little serious expression on, and so Daniel makes a series of increasingly silly faces just to make him laugh.

"You've got yourself a serious one too, then," the woman behind the counter says as he pays for their drinks. "Mine's the same."

"Yeah," Daniel says. "Best kid in the world, though."

"Fight you for it," the woman says, laughing, and that grief is back, hovering, desperate, endless. Daniel tries to smile. He wishes her a happy new year and goes back to sit beside Max, who's picked out a farm picture to colour, with lots of trees and some animals. He's got one for Daniel too. He doesn't want to try Daniel's hot chocolate, but he does like the smell. He's industriously colouring in one of the trees in purple — like the ones outside — when one of the farm staff comes over to ask if he'd like to make a tree at one of the craft tables.

"No, thank you," Max says, attention focused on his picture. "Me and my daddy are colouring."

Daniel has to swallow down an actual sob. "We're good here, thanks," he says. "But thank you."

After she leaves, Daniel has to use one of his hot chocolate napkins to blow his nose. Max looks up at him.

"Can we go home soon?" he asks.

"To Christian and Geri's house?"

"No," Max says, giving him a withering glance. "Our house, Daniel."

Daniel leans in and kisses the top of his head. "Yeah," he says. "Promise."

"Okay," Max says, content with Daniel's yes. Daniel doesn't lie to him. Except, maybe, about the growing hole in his chest. Max goes back to colouring. Daniel swallows, tries to get a hold of himself, and resorts to naming all of the animals in the picture the stupidest names he can think of, just to make Max laugh.

Later on, they walk along a little pathway through the lit-up woods, and drink a cup of tomato soup at a picnic table. Max is amazed at the idea of drinking soup outside in the dark. They don't stay at the table long because it's cold, but Daniel takes a thousand pictures of Max beaming at him, soup around his mouth, and lets Max take some of him in return.

"I love you," he tells Max as they walk back towards the car. It seems important to tell him, urgent, imperative.

Max swings their joined hands. He's got his coloured-in picture and a glowing stick with a star on it clutched in his other hand, a present from the farm shop. Daniel's got one too, and a bag with some in for Monty and Olivia and Bluebell even though Bluebell's probably too old for it.

"Love you, love you, love you," Max says back, kicking his feet in his new wellingtons. He looks up at Daniel, sleepy but happy, and Daniel's heart twists in his chest. "Can we go home now?"

"Tomorrow," Daniel says, making a decision. Fuck it all, he thinks. I'm taking Max home.

Thank you to Zoe and Lena for reading this through for me. 🧡