#because i have to bring everything back to the east coast

[prosperdemeter2]

WIP Wednesday - glass

AKA Daniel lives AU

Ladder 53 was just off Newbury Street, smack in the middle between the police and fire station, in a big, red brick building that used to belong to the post office. Eddie had been with the Boston Fire Department for close to six months by the time Hen, Chim and Rosa finally managed to convince him to leave Chris with a sitter and head out to the restaurant with them. "It's for the bar, really." Hen explained and waved him forward, zipping her BFD fleece all the way up to her chin and pushing her way through the line waiting at the host's stand. "And the food's not bad." 

It was all rather unfortunate, then, that they were there when they were still on shift, called out because of a rowdy run in with a drunk customer. "Hey, Luke!" Chimney raised his hand to wave at the bouncer by the door. 

The man uncrossed his arms to wave back, nodding in greeting with a smile that painted his face into a much less intimidating picture than it had been before. "Hey! They sent you two out? What, they wanted to give us more trouble?" 

Hen laughed, "Cap heard the location on the radio and jumped towards it." She stopped with her hands on her medical bag. "Where’s our patient?" 

"Athena’s trying to get him to sit down in the back." Luke explained with a jerk of his head towards the silver kitchen doors. "Honestly, the kid's fine. It looks worse than it is. It's the guy that threw the glass that you've been called in for." 

The guy that threw the glass, Eddie presumed, was the one sitting with his back against the bar with his hands sitting in cuffs in front of him and what looked like a badly broken nose. His shirt was stained with either sweat or the drink he had thrown and Eddie knew he wasn't supposed to judge patients or imagine conclusions but… if the guy was in the cuffs then he was obviously the one at fault. "Alright," Hen snapped on her pair of gloves. "Eddie, you and Rosa mind checking out the guy in the back?" 

"Not at all," Rosa answered for them, pushing her way through the kitchen door. Eddie followed after, only just then noticing all of the people out of uniform waiting by the counter, arms crossed and scowls on their face. 

"Jesus," Eddie remarked with a hand caught on the door. "This place really is popular." 

"It's owned by this old retired firefighter," Rosa explained in agreement, her accent coiling around her words to wrap them in a hug. "The food's decent and the drinks good and cheap. And they give a discount to any serving first responders." Rosa dropped her med bag by Athena’s feet with a smile. "Howdy, Sergeant." 

"Alvarez." Athena dipped her chin in greeting, her hands resting on her gear belt. "Diaz, nice to see you two again." 

"Cap’s out front if you want to go fill him in." Rosa said cheekily, reaching into her pocket to ease on her own pair of blue, plastic gloves. "Eddie, this is our patient, Evan. He's the bar manager." 

Their patient, sitting forlorn on an old, cracked barstool with his hand wrapped tightly in a blood soaked kitchen rag, was startlingly… handsome. Pretty? Eddie had run into his fair share of attractive patients during his probationary year, and it wasn't going to be any more of a problem now then it ever was but… he could acknowledge it at least to himself. "Hi, Rosa." He sounded miserable when he spoke. More than a bit embarrassed by the whole thing but he mustered up a wincing smile when Eddie lowered himself to kneeling in front of him. "Is Ollie okay?" 

"Evan, this is Eddie Diaz," Rosa gestured towards him. "He's our new probie." 

"Hi." Evan greeted softly with a hard swallow. 

"Hi," Eddie shot him a smile and sat back on his heels. "Mind if I take a look at that?" 

"Oh!" Evan blinked and shook his head. "Uhm, no. Go right ahead." The bouncer - Luke - had been right, it did look worse than it actually was. Eddie peeled the towel away and placed it down by his knee with an inaudible wince. 

There were several pieces of glass still stuck in his skin, catching the light off the ceiling. "Is Ollie okay?" Evan asked again, a worried tension to his voice. 

"Hen and Chim have him." Rosa comforted and passed Eddie a pair of tweezers, a handful of gauze prepared in her empty hand. "What happened, anyway? He get rowdy again?" 

"I told him he couldn't drive home." Evan snorted. "Tried to call him an Uber and the guy threw his glass at my head." 

"That happen a lot?" Eddie asked wryly. "Rosie, can you get me some morphine? This is -." 

"Oh, uhm," Evan shifted with a flush to his pale cheeks. "You don’t… do we need that? The morphine?" 

"This is going to hurt without it." Eddie advised slowly. 

"It's fine," Evan waved off with a hard swallow. "I don't… I can't… no painkillers, please." 

Eddie narrowed his gaze at him but prepped the tweezers anyway. "Okay," far be it for him to judge. "You have to stay still for me, okay? Let me know if you need a break." 

"Come on," Evan laughed breathlessly. "Can't be worse than a tattoo, right?" 

It probably would be, actually, but only because there were about a dozen tiny pieces that Eddie could see and three big, chunky ones. It was the prolonged fact of it, really, more than it was anything else. Eddie had sat through several tattoos himself, but he would prefer that any day over having glass picked out of his skin. "Right." He said with a quick, reassuring smile at the other man and set to work. 

Surprisingly, Evan was a good patient. He didn't squirm more than the few times his body involuntarily twitched, he didn't whine or wince or move to jerk away from Eddie’s hands. Eddie had collected a little pile of glass by his feet on a sterile rag and Rosa had disappeared to check on the patron that had knocked Ollie down when Evan next spoke, clearing his throat and chewing on his lip. Not that Eddie was paying a whole lot of attention to his lips, it was just that, this close, Eddie couldn't help but notice the white tips of his teeth digging into the flesh of his lip. "How, uhm… I haven't seen you before." 

"I moved up here a few months ago." Eddie explained patiently. 

"You don't come out with the others." 

"No," Eddie laughed quietly. "I'm… not really one for going out." Well, he used to be before Shannon had left, and he had moved from Texas to Boston after Rosa's offer of assistance. 

Evan hummed like he understood, reaching up with his free hand to scratch at the side of his nose. "That's fine…" 

"Last one." Eddie advised and waited until Evan had sucked in a giant breath to pull it out and place it in the pile with the others. "Breathe out, Evan." He commanded absently and reached behind himself for the saline to spray over the wound. "I don't think you're going to need stitches, but I'd suggest following up with your primary or going to the ER to check if it's bothering you." 

"Do you think Ollie's going to jail?" 

"I don't think you should be worried about Ollie." 

"He's got a problem." Evan explained in a small voice. "He… Ollie lost this kid a few months ago? It really messed with him. He didn't mean anything by it." 

"He threw a glass at your head, man." Eddie shook his head and gently, yet firmly, placed the gauze in place over Evan’s palm. "He's not getting the help he needs by hanging out at a bar at ten in the morning." 

"I mean… you're probably right, but it's better than him going home and drinking himself to death, right?"

Eddie laughed with a shake of his head. "Whatever you say, man." 

"Ugh." Evan groaned but held steady while Eddie cleaned out the wound and wrapped it. "Thanks for this," he wiggled his fingers in Eddie’s direction. 

"It's literally my job." Eddie brushed off his gratitude like he did every patient who tossed it his way. "I don't suggest going back to work." He cautioned when Evan made to stand up and then quickly sat back down. Eddie was ready, although he made no motion just yet, to grab him if he looked to be getting more dizzy than he was willing to let on. "Have something to eat. Drink some water. Go home." 

"Right." Evan cleared his throat. "I'm… I'm fine." 

"Follow up -."

"With my primary." Evan rolled his eyes. "You already said that." He pointed out with a long suffering sigh. "I live with my brother. If it bleeds through, I'll make him take a look." 

"Unless your brother's a doctor I don't think he's going to be much help." 

Evan’s smile was quick and sharp, like he was holding a secret between his bared teeth. "He is." 

Well then. 

Okay.

[missvelvetsstuff]

No Benefits

Bucky Barnes x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Sharon Carter

Summary: Reader and Bucky are best friends until a drunken hook up. Bucky wants a friends with benefits situation because he doesn't feel ready for a relationship but reader knows that will lead to a broken heart.

Then Sharon Carter comes to work with them.

Notes: Steve and Tony are around but retired, everything else is mostly canon

Chapter Notes: I'm really nervous with the direction my muse has taken with this story. I hope I can pull it off. LMK what you think, please.

Previous chapter:

"Cookie!" Bucky roared as he came striding up to her office "What the Hell is this bullshit?"

Chapter 3

Warnings: Swearing, angst, Bucky's a jerk, Sharon Carter sucks

Cookie looked at Bucky with a deep exhaustion caused by researching all night and early morning briefings with the top agents to figure out what to do with Sharon while Bucky was her guard dog. Maria was ready to tear into him. Cookie cleared her throat to gain Maria's attention then made a small shake of her head to ask her to back down, Cookie knew she could handle Bucky by herself.

Maria nodded and left to sit in her office across the hall, leaving the door open just in case.

Cookie straightened her shoulders and sighed "How can I help you Sargent Barnes?"

Bucky glared at her breathing heavily "You know damn well how you can help me. Who the fuck do you think you are making accusations at Sharon like this?" He waved the report in her face until she grabbed it and tore it from his hands.

Holding the partially torn report Cookie stood up to her full height, her heels bringing her eye level with Bucky. She stared at him in his cold blue eyes to show him she wasn't intimidated by him, then walked around her desk to close the door "I don't think it's wise to leave the door open while we discuss top secret intelligence."

She returned to her chair "Please have a seat Sargent." took a deep breath and spoke calmly

"I think, no I'm damn sure I'm the lead east coast Intel analyst who was hand picked from Quantico by Nick Fury while you were still on ice with Hydra, who kept our intel operation running during the Blip while Nick Fury, Maria Hill and....hhmm, oh that's right, You, were all dust in the wind. None of my conclusions were specious and I followed the facts, without prejudice, as my job requires. This has less than nothing to do with your personal, ahem, entanglements. There's solid evidence to back up every claim."

Bucky shook his head "Bullshit. You've been acting put out since I rejected you and found a way to hurt me back. You obviously faked the proof. You better fucking retract this garbage and clear Sharon's name."

Cookie scoffed and shook her head "No Barnes. You're the one who lied to me and decided on your own to end our friendship but this has nothing to do with that." she turned away before he could respond and went into the filing cabinet behind her desk, pulling a thick folder from the top drawer then dropping it heavily on the desk.

"Here is all of the evidence that I have been compiling on the Power Broker since they showed on our radar during the Blip, and spent most of the night organizing. The pictures and the stack with a red paper clip all came in the mail from Latvia a few days ago, the envelope is attached, and was opened in front of Fury and Hill. The night before we received them I was on the phone with my top informant, the one who sent that package, who tried to tell me something about the power broker but was killed while on the phone. Before disconnecting a woman's voice told me to back off of the power broker or I'd be next." She played the recording of that call and others from the same informant.

Bucky shook his head "You've been doing this long enough, you could have made authentic looking evidence. Especially with all the AI stuff. Or had someone do it."

Cookie looked at him like he'd grown another head "Are you serious Barnes? You think I would ever intentionally risk the reputation and career that I've worked my ass off for my entire adult life, over a broken heart? You think that I would ruin someones life and risk legal repercussions on myself over a man? You know what this job means to me and what I've been through to get here."

Bucky hesitated with a pained look on his face and shook his head like he was trying to clear it. There was a voice in the back of his head, telling him this was all wrong but something made him push it down and keep going.

"Well, maybe one of your people is doing it. Are you even sure that informant is dead? Maybe the family is trying to get paid. Or the real power broker is smart enough to lead you to Sharon and you're all too willing to believe the worst because of me."

He paused for a minute "And I heard you call me a liar but I've never lied to you."

Cookie laughed "You sure about that? It's been awhile so I understand if your memory is failing. That morning? The last time you actually acknowledged me outside of work related, yeah you lied to me. Twice actually"

Bucky tried to remember back to that morning, something he tried to avoid because he knew he made one of the worst mistakes of his life. He shook his head to clear the image of her heartbroken face "Yeah I don't know what you're talking about."

Cookie scoffed "Of course you don't, I'm surprised you remembered my name when you came in here. First, you told me you weren't ready for a relationship but you jumped into one with Sharon before her car cooled down" Bucky opened his mouth to protest but she glared at him and he backed down "and second, you told me you loved me and wanted to stay friends but went to ignoring me before my tears dried."

She felt her eyes filling up and cursed "Fuck. You even started leaving the room if I was there. Do you know how it feels to have one of your so called best friends cut you out of their life like you were dog shit on their shoe?" She cleared her throat and wiped her tears.

"I would never frame someone, ever. No matter how I felt about them. Not even you."

Bucky stared at her then winced as though he was in severe pain and dropped his head into his palms before speaking again.

"Well something is going on somewhere because I know, in my gut that Sharon isn't the power broker. There's no way."

He picked his head up and looked at Cookie

"I'm not in a relationship with her, we're just friends. And I didn't lie, I was wrong. I thought I wanted to stay friends with you but I don't, I can't. You're always looking at me and making me feel guilty and I don't deserve that. Plus you've been nasty to Sharon since she got here, don't think she hasn't told me about the horrible comments you make to her."

Cookie laughed "This is the most we've spoken in months, I'm not doing anything to make you feel guilty. That's all on you. But Sharon has you all twisted around because she's the one making nasty comments to me."

Bucky bristled "I don't have anything to feel guilty for. I've done nothing wrong and Sharon wouldn't lie to me."

She shrugged "If you say so, I didn't say anything. Now I've given you the details and shown the evidence. What you do is on you."

Bucky stood up, winced again and shook his head "I don't know if you did it or someone you're working with but I do know someone is trying to frame Sharon and you're going along with it. I'll prove you're wrong, that's what I'm gonna do."

Cookie scoffed "Good luck with that, Barnes"

Bucky put his hands on her desk and leaned into her space, his voice quiet and cold "I'll prove you're doing this because of your jealousy and your job and reputation will be over."

Cookie spat at him "Go fuck yourself Barnes, if you think that poorly of me you obviously never knew me. I have never been anything less than thorough and professional. I guess I should be grateful you panicked and cut me out of your life before I let myself get too attached. Good luck with Carter and get the Hell out of my office."

She sat down and went back to the packets she was finishing.

Bucky stood and stared like he was expecting something to happen before turning around and stalking off to find Sharon.

He woke up in the dark, with Sharon curled into him and looked at his watch. 9pm? Not again, his last memory was yelling at Cookie after breakfast then finding Sharon but nothing after that. He decided he had enough and scheduled an appointment with medical in the morning to see if they could help him figure out why he kept losing time.

Cookie spent the rest of the day in more briefings with senior agents to discuss the Sharon Carter problem and how to negate it. Bucky Barnes attachment to Carter was discussed as well since he had already started causing trouble over the revelations and couldn't be trusted to do the right thing.

When she was asked why they couldn't just arrest Sharon and tranq Bucky if he caused a problem, Cookie told them about her concerns that Sharon had an ally in the intel department that needed to be weeded out before Sharon.

She was back in her office, cleaning up her desk for the day when Sharon Carter herself wandered in, sat down and waited expectantly for Cookie to speak.

"What can I do for you agent Carter? I'm a little busy."

Sharon smirked "I know what you're trying to do and I understand. You're in love with Barnes and he wants me. It sucks and I know you must be hurting but slandering me won't get him back. In fact he ran to me this morning to tell me what you were trying to do and wondering why you wanted to hurt him so bad. I told him I would work it out with you."

Her face turned nasty "So here's how this is gonna work. You are going to stop trying to smear my name and leave Barnes alone, he doesn't need or want you. Think you can handle that?"

Cookie kept her face blank. "I don't need you to tell me how to do my job, agent Carter, so get the Hell out of my office."

Sharon laughed "Don't mess with me Cookie, I'm not the girl you want to play with."

Cookie faked an exaggerated yawn "Sure Carter, I'm scared."

Sharon smirked "It doesn't matter what evidence you have, you know. Barnes won't believe you. You could record me telling you that I'm the power broker and want the Soldat to be my enforcer because that's the truth." She grinned and winked "and show it to him. He won't believe you, he's already mine." She sighed "Of course now that you're on to me I will have to adjust my plans but he will want to go with me, even beg to come to protect me from all of you.

Don't chase us little girl, you won't like what you catch."

Her grin grew to something that would rival the Joker "In fact, go ahead and show him. I know FRIDAY is recording all this so let's go and show him. I want you to see how pointless this all is so you can leave us alone."

Her face hardened "Let's go" she grabbed Cookie by her upper arm and dragged her away from her desk. Cookie tried to fight her but she wasn't great with hand to hand, give her a weapon and she might have a chance but Sharon didn't give her the opportunity to grab anything.

When they arrived at Bucky's room Sharon's face softened before Bucky answered the door.

"Hey doll, you don't have to knock just-" he stopped and frowned when he saw Cookie "What the Hell is going on, Cookie have you been harassing Sharon?"

He looked to Sharon for an explanation.

Sharon was able to squeeze a tear from her eye "I was by her office to talk to Maria and Cookie said she was watching me and knew she could prove that I'm the power broker. Listen to what she said. Friday can you play the audio from my talk in Cookies office a few minutes ago?"

"Of course agent Carter."

A recording started of Sharon and Cookies interaction in her office. Bucky started listening with a passive face but he grew angrier with everything Sharon said.

Cookie felt hopeful that he would finally see the truth about Sharon but he aimed his ire at her.

"Seriously Cookie? You just can't let it go can you? Sharon hasn't done anything except make me happy and it's killing you. Like I'm some prize to be won. I never thought you would compromise yourself like this but maybe I'll have a talk with Fury and Hill about your obsession with me."

Cookie just stared at him, trying to figure out what the Hell he was talking about. They both heard Sharon say she was the power broker but he still didn't believe it. "Are you listening to the same audio I am Barnes? She said right there shes the power broker and wants the Winter Soldier to be her enforcer."

Bucky glared at her "Jesus Cookie, that's not even close to what she said. Maybe you need to take a vacation because you're losing it."

He looked her up and down "Honestly you look like shit. When did you stop taking care of yourself? I definitely wouldn't have slept with you if you looked like this."

Sharon just stood next to Bucky grinning like a JackAss at Cookie. "I told you Cookie, he's mine so let it go."

Cookie took a breath then turned and walked away without another word. Sharon must have found some way to brainwash him again and Cookie knew there was nothing she could do right now except notify Fury and Hill that Bucky was under Sharon's control so they could work on getting him back. They scheduled a meeting for first thing the next morning at 5am.

Cookie was woken up by her phone ringing at 3am after just falling asleep. It was Sam, Bucky and Sharon were gone, Stark phones and tracking devices left sitting on the desk in his quarters.

Chapter 4

The Power Broker and The Winter Soldier, in the wind.

@erelierraceala @capswife @ozwriterchick @cjand10 @wintrsoldrluvr @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @browneyedgrli @greatenthusiasttidalwave @hhiggs @dontworryboutitsweetheart-blog @behindmygreyeyes @pattiemac1 @calwitch @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @ordelixx

[secretswiftymarvelfan]

Boston Bears: Off-Limits - Rugby Player!Chris x Reader (Part 2)

Summary: After an unforgettable night, Chris finds out more about you

Word Count: 6.4k

Warnings: Angst! SMUT! 18+ ONLY! Male Masturbation! MINORS DNI!

Rugby Explained

Dividers by Me!

Series Masterlist / Masterlist

Chapter 2

You heaved out a long sigh as you put the last of your clothes away, walking out of the closet towards your bed only to completely collapse on your bed in exhaustion. The bed springs creaked as you bounced slightly, the noise bringing you straight back to last night when they were creaking for a completely different reason. 

You nibbled at your lower lip as the memory of last night replayed in your mind, the way Chris took you to heaven multiple times. The thought of it alone had you crossing one leg over the other as pressure built between your legs. When your phone vibrated in your jeans pocket a small involuntary gasp escaped your lips. 

A smile then grew on your face when you saw it was Chris replying to your text asking how his post-match recovery was going. Like promised Chris had texted you this morning and you two had been texting ever since.

Chris: good, just warming back up after an icebath before watching the Chicago Knights game later, playing them next weekend and wanna know where they’re at

Y/N: oh very good, getting yourself in the coach’s good books?

Chris: just trying to be a good captain, although it never hurts to stay in his good books

You let out a snort since you knew that was definitely the case, you’re dad was pretty chill in most aspects but when it came to Rugby he was pretty strict. Speaking of the devil, you put your phone away when he knocks on your bedroom door with an open bottle of beer. 

“All done in here?” he asks walking over and passing you the beer.

You accept it, sitting up to take a long sip “Yup, don’t ever let me say I don’t have enough clothes” you tell him.

Your father snorts “If only your teenage self could see you now” he says with a shake of his head “kitchen is all unpacked, but feel free to reorganise everything because I did it wrong” he offers. 

“Thanks Dad, you didn’t grab yourself a beer?” you ask nodding down to the beer bottle in your hands. 

“No need to keep my mind clear got games to study when I get home,” your dad says with a shake of his head. 

“Well take one for later once you’re done studying, did you even celebrate the win yesterday?” you say with a knowing look. 

Your dad sighs and rolls his eyes “The team all went out to celebrate” 

“I didn’t ask about the team I asked about you” you point out standing up from your bed and walking out towards your kitchen. 

“Fine, I got takeout while watching the game back” your dad relents with a long sigh. 

“See, today is supposed to be your day off so just take a beer and go relax for a bit, you deserve it considering you helped me unpack,” you say opening up your fridge and grabbing him a beer. 

“Fine but I’m still watching the Knights match tonight and that counts because I enjoy watching rugby” your dad argues as he accepts the bottle of beer. 

You chuckle shaking your head at him “I wouldn't expect anything else, thanks for today Dad”

Your dad smiles warmly over at you, walking over to sling his arm around your shoulders “It’s nothing, I’m just happy to have my little girl back on the east coast”

“Me too Dad” you smile.

You had enjoyed your time in LA, you had met some friends for life there. But you missed New England so much, especially the sweater weather. When you walked off the plane it was like a breath of fresh air, you felt good about returning home and getting your fresh start after everything with Bryce. 

“I better get going and let you settle and reorganise,” your dad says grabbing his jacket. 

“Thanks Dad, don’t forget to relax,” you say pointing over to him.

“I won’t see you tomorrow for your first day, don’t be late” your dad smiles pointing a finger right back at you. 

“Don’t worry I know how to make a good impression” you wink as you close the door. 

Once he was gone you made your way into the kitchen, sipping your beer as you went. You inspected the unpacking your dad had done and where he had put everything. Like he suspected you would have to move things around and re-organise because where he put a few things just didn’t make sense to you. 

But that would be a job for another day. You were far too tired from unpacking to even think about re-organising the kitchen, if you attempted it now you would probably only make it worse. 

So instead you made your way back to your living room and collapsed on the couch. Looking at the time you had a lot of time left in the day, for a second you considered texting Chris and inviting him over to fulfil that reward he teased but you stopped yourself. Doing that would just open yourself up to getting attached, you couldn’t make the same mistake again. But Chris was so different to Bryce already, it was what made you comfortable to give him your number. 

Letting out a long sigh you shook your head trying to get Chris out of your head. It was a one-night stand, nothing more. To carry it on would only make things complicated, even if it was the best sex of your life. Sex that every time you thought about it made your core ache and wish to seek out the toy he used last night. 

To distract yourself you grabbed your laptop and decided to do some work. Your dad had already given you the lowdown on the team’s list of injuries so you wouldn’t go into it blind. But you also knew players tried to hide any injuries and niggles they had so you wanted to rewatch yesterday's match to see if you could spot any. You had already noticed a couple but you suspected there was more. 

You also planned to watch the Knights game too to do the same thing, knowing what your opposition's injuries are can be a great help. You know which players could be slow to turn or not at full speed and easy to run past.

You were halfway through making some notes on yesterday’s match when your phone buzzed. You instantly jumped to grab it to see who it was, scolding yourself when you realised you were disappointed that it wasn’t Chris. Instead, it was your best friend back in LA, Tommi. 

Tommi: Hey how’s unpacking going?

Y/N: Done, free to videochat?

Tommi: Yes! I need to vent!

You chuckle as you close the tab playing yesterday's match on your laptop and start video calling Tommi. She picks up almost immediately, her hair dishevelled, tied up in a messy bun, a glass of wine in her hands. 

It was a sight that you knew very well, like you, Tommi grew up on the East Coast but down in New York instead of New England. The two of you had met at college when you ended up being roommates, the rest was pretty much history. You became fast friends and incredibly close you couldn’t believe you had gotten through life before her. She had moved to LA a couple of years before you and you were both so excited when you got the job at LA Lions. 

“Do I need wine or will beer do?” you ask holding up your bottle. 

“Beer will do” She nods taking a large sip of her wine. 

“What’s up wedding planning again?” you ask tilting your head sympathetically. 

Tommi lets out a long sigh “Yeah…”

“Didn’t you guys get a wedding planner to help with it all?” you ask with a small shake of your head. 

“We did and she’s great but it’s hard to make any decisions when Dan isn’t there to make the decisions with me, we were supposed to go cake tasting today but he had a work emergency” she pouts, her shoulder slumping. 

“That’s annoying, are you able to reschedule?” you ask with a sympathetic look. 

“Yeah but not for another couple of months! This bakery is so popular that it was near impossible to get the tasting appointment in the first place!” Tommi vents before taking another large sip of her wine. 

“Is there anything else you can get sorted sooner so you feel like you’re making progress?” you suggest.

Tommi sits back and tilts her head as she thinks “No not really” she sighs “Weddings suck, don’t ever do it” she adds making you laugh.

You knew she was joking, despite how much stress the planning was causing she was actually really excited. Tommi and Dan were the definition of love, you didn’t think you could find anyone more in love than the two of them. When you first met Dan you had been pretty sceptical, nobody could be good enough for your bestie, but Dan really was and it made you crave that sort of love.

Before you knew it you started picturing it, startling when you realised that you were picturing Chris. That was not a good idea at all. You needed a bucket of ice water stat.

“What’s that look on your face?” Tommi asks frowning at you, pulling you completely from your thoughts.

“Oh um, nothing” you say waving her off “Just trying to think of a solution for you” you lie.

Tommi’s eyes narrow as she leans in closer to her screen before gasping dramatically “You had sex!” she exclaims.

“What! No! No, I didn’t!” you stutter shaking your head, knowing Tommi would not approve of you jumping into someone’s bed so soon. Well, Chris did jump into your bed but you didn’t think she would accept that loophole. 

“Yes! Yes, you did! I can see that glow! It’s faded a bit but it’s there! Who! How!” she exclaims. 

“It was nothing just a one-night stand” you relent “I met him at the bar last night”

“The rugby bar?” Tommi questions her brow pinching together slightly “Was it a fan?”

Your silence as you tried to work out how best to answer the question gave her the answer she was after “Y/N” she said with a long sigh “Please tell me it was one of the opposition players”

You pause for a moment “It was one of the opposition players” you lie.

Tommi saw straight through you “Y/N… I love you… but…” she says drifting off at the end as she tries to work out how to kindly reprimand you. 

You knew exactly what she was thinking. You got yourself into the mess with Bryce because you slept with him. Who’s to say you won’t end up in the exact same mess again with Chris? There was a reason people say don’t shit where you eat. 

“I know, I know” you sigh “but he just- he seemed different, I felt safe in his company and he was nothing like Bryce” 

“He’s a rugby player, they’re all the same. Player is literally in the title” Tommi argues “What’s his name? I need to see if he gives off player vibes” 

You wanted to argue that they’re not but gave her Chris’ name anyway. You’ve met and worked with plenty of rugby players and not all of them were bad, there were some really sweet guys. Chris seemed to be one of the sweet ones. 

“Okay he’s hot I’ll give you that, and he seems nice but there’s that player look in his eyes, one that says he’s sexy and he knows it” Tommi says as she scrolls through photos of Chris on her phone.

“I needed to get back on the horse though, I don’t want what happened with Bryce to stop me from doing what I want” you argue. 

Tommi lets out another long sigh, you could understand her hesitance, she has never been the type of person who could do one-night stands. She just didn’t get them, she needed that emotional connection, whereas you could make do with just physical. She never judged you though and never criticised the fact that your list was much longer than hers. 

“Okay, I just worry about you that’s all, what Bryce did and what you went through was properly shitty and I don’t want you to go through that again especially now you’re thousands of miles away” She eventually sighs. 

You smirk “Don’t act like you wouldn’t jump on the first flight over” you say knowingly.

“I would, but the only reason I want to visit you is for happy reasons” she retorts. 

“Okay, that’s fair” you chuckle “But don’t worry it’s fine, it was just a one-time thing,” you say trying to sound convincing. 

Once again her eyes narrow “Why did that sound wrong? Like you were trying to convince yourself”

You let out a groan, you could never hide anything from Tommi. She had crazy mindreading and people-reading skills, which you guess helped her in her career in PR, but it was annoying when she put those skills to use on you. 

“Fine, I’m just struggling to get him out of my head because fuck the sex was so good, like best I’ve ever had, like the sex you talk about in those books you read” You relent. 

Tommi’s eyebrows rise slightly “That kind of sex doesn’t exist” she says. 

“It does trust me and it’s addicting and my brain is saying it's a one-time thing only but my body is just begging for more” you huff slumping back against the couch “like if Chris walked in right now I would jump his bones it was that good” 

Tommi sighs pursing her lips “I’m happy for you, everyone deserves good sex but listen to your head, you’re playing with fire if you sleep with him again. Right now you’re just remembering good sex, whose to say the next time with him won’t be shit. If you end it now you won’t have ruined it”

You nod your head slowly, what she said made sense, why risk tainting a good memory? While you weren’t drunk last night, there was definitely alcohol in your system, maybe you were more drunk than you realised and it was the alcohol making the sex seem better than it was. 

“Yeah you’re right, thanks Tommi” you sigh. 

“It’s nothing I’m glad I can still provide sound advice miles away” Tommi smiles warmly. 

“Me too and don’t worry about your wedding planning, if you need me to give Dan a kick up the ass I will, I’m sure it comes under maid of honour duties” you smirk making her laugh. 

“Thank you, the wedding is still ages away so we have time, i’m just stressing over nothing” Tommi sighs.

You nod in agreement “I think we’ve had a good vent session if I do say so myself” you smirk.

“Hear hear” Tommi cheers holding up her glass before drinking the rest of her wine, you laugh following her example by downing the rest of your beer. 

Chris let out a quiet groan as he climbed out of his car, his calf twinging in pain as he stood. He’d hoped that the recovery he had done yesterday would have been enough but he clearly overexerted himself on Saturday. 

A smile tugs at his lips when he thinks back to Saturday. He hadn’t expected his night to go like that but he doesn’t regret it at all, in fact, he could barely stop thinking about it. He was no stranger to hookups but none had been like that, none had lingered in his mind. 

He wondered if you felt the same way, he guessed so considering the text conversation the two of you had yesterday. That was until you just stopped replying halfway through the afternoon. He guessed, hoped that it was just because you were busy not because you decided to ghost him. 

Pulling out his phone he quickly checked it to see if he had just missed you texting him back but there was nothing. He considered shooting you another text but before he had the chance he heard someone shouting out his name. 

Glancing up he spotted Jensen walking across the parking lot towards him, quickly pocketing his phone, Chris locked his car and walked over towards Jake. 

“Hey man, get up to anything fun yesterday?” Chris greets him with a forearm handshake. 

“Downloaded this new game so was just playing that all day, what about you?” Jensen asks as the two of them walk towards the training centre. 

“Just watched back our game and watched the Knights game see what they’re playing like” Chris shrugs as he opens the door. 

“Man, do you ever take a day off?” Jensen exclaims shaking his head as he steps inside. 

“I can take a day off when we win the championship” Chris retorts knowing there was no way Jensen could argue with that. 

“Fair enough” Jensen shrugs “At least you came out with us on Saturday whereabouts did you get to anyway? No one saw you leave” he then asks.

Chris for a second considers saying he went home with someone but decides against it. It wasn't his team's business what he did and who he did. Chris liked his privacy, what he did in the bedroom stayed in the bedroom. 

“Just went home, sorry I didn’t say but I knew Storm would try and convince me to stay out,” Chris says nodding to the winger who looked like he was recovering from a 2-day hangover. 

Jensen snorts as he claps Chris on the shoulder “I don’t blame you” he chuckles as they join the rest of the team in the video playback room. 

Chris nods in agreement as he sits down. Looking around at the team he was glad it seemed to be only Johnny who was still suffering from a hangover, sat in the darkest corner of the room with his hoodie pulled up over his head. Everyone looked a little tired but it was a Monday so Chris couldn’t blame them. 

Finally, Coach Y/L/N and the rest of the coaching team walked, including Andy the assistant coach. Chris always felt a little pang of sympathy when he watched Andy coach, he’d been at the high of his career until a knee injury forced him to retire far earlier than any player wants to. 

“Right, how many of you have had a chance to review the game?” Coach Y/L/N asks as he plugs in his laptop. 

Almost all of the players in the room raise their hands, earning an approving hum from the coach. 

“And did any of you catch the knight's game?” he follows up, every hand going up this time, even Johnny who looked like the movement made the room spin. 

“They were awful, got an easy match next week” Ari smirks as he leans back in his chair. 

“Or they’ll attack harder next week” Andy warns “Never go into a match thinking it’ll be easy, you’ll get complacent and that's when the worse happens” the rest of the team hums in response taking his warning on board. 

“Barber is right, but before we jump into the game analysis there’s a couple of announcements” Coach Y/L/N says glancing at his watch with a sigh “She said she wouldn’t be late but… I'll get started anyway” he continues rolling his eyes “we have a new medic joining the team-”

At that exact moment the door to the video playback room opens, light streaming in which made Johnny hiss as it hit him directly in the eyes. When Chris’ eyes adjusted to the change in light they widened when he saw it was you standing in the door. What the hell were you doing here?

“Sorry, got a little lost” you apologise as you shut the door behind you and move towards Coach Y/L/N.

“So much for a good impression,” Coach Y/L/N smirks at you, earning a roll of the eyes, before he turns back towards the team “As I was saying we have a new medic, meet Y/N, she’s the best in the business even if I am a little biased”

Chris felt like his brain was short-circuiting, he wouldn't be surprised if sparks were flying from his head as his brain went into meltdown. Why were you here? Why did the coach talk to you like he was very familiar with you already?

“I’m sure you all will be very welcoming, but it’s my duty as a father to tell you all to keep it professional, Y/N is off-limits, that means no dating Storm” Coach Y/L/N warns pointing over to Johnny the known player on the team. 

Duty as a father? No way is Coach Y/L/N your dad, no way did Chris already break the off-limits rule.

“Dad” you complain quietly, glaring daggers at him, your face flushing. 

Fuck. 

Chris was dead. He was dead. He will never see his team lift that championship trophy because he was about to be killed by his coach. 

His gaze shifted to you to see you were completely avoiding his gaze. He let out a small scoff as he crossed his arms and looked down. You knew. You knew who he was and how your father would react and you said nothing. You invited him back to your apartment knowing it would paint a target on his back. 

Chris was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t notice you leave until the door shut behind you. Even with your departure, Chris couldn’t focus, he just sat there the entire session stewing, kicking himself for being so stupid. He barely participated, many of the insights he noticed during his re-watches went unsaid. All he could think about was getting out of here, tracking you down and asking WHAT THE FUCK!

He had to bide his time though as straight after the analysis session was a gym session. Chris hoped that maybe some exercise would help him work through some of his anger at the situation but he was not so lucky because you were observing the session alongside Andy. 

Chris watched you as he did bicep curls, his teeth gritted not just in exertion but in frustration. You were barely paying him any attention, you were instead focussing on Johnny who was doing some weighted run across the gym. You were acting like he didn’t exist and it pissed him off. But not as much as when Andy said something to make you laugh, your hand landing on his arm as you threw your head back laughing. 

He finally got your attention when he dropped his weights back on the floor, the sound of them hitting the ground reverberating around the gym. Your brows furrowed slightly as you studied him for a second, only to turn your attention back to Andy. 

That pissed Chris off even more so even though he knew his leg still hurt he decided to join Johnny and do some weighted runs. That definitely got your attention, he could feel your eyes on his back as he strapped the trolley around his waist and prepared for his first sprint. When he turned back around he saw you watching him intensely, your brows furrowed slightly. 

Chris ignored you though, gave you a taste of your own medicine, and began his first run. He instantly felt the twinge of pain in his calf but he pushed through, he just needed the loosen the muscle up that's all. When he was done he pushed the trolley back to the start ready to start again. 

He went a few more times before his leg completely went forcing him to hop and come to a stop. You were instantly over to him kneeling down as he sat down on the floor to massage his poor calf. 

“You okay?” you ask tilting your head.

“Fine, just cramp” Chris huffs standing back up before you could do anything “Already gone” he states as he turns around and walks off to go back to biceps curls. 

He tried to just focus on his workout and not you nor the pain in his leg but he did catch you watching him a bit more intensely now. A flash of satisfaction shoots through him knowing that but he quickly pushes that down. 

When the session came to an end Chris was making his way out but Andy stepped in his way “Hey your leg doesn’t look good, go down to the medic and get it strapped and properly stretched out” he told him.

“It's fine” Chris huffs.

“That wasn’t a request” Andy states, his gaze turning hard. 

Chris huffs before suddenly realising this was his opportunity to confront you and find out exactly what had gone down. He gives Andy a quick knock before making his way to the medical room making his arrival known with a short sharp knock.

“Come in” he heard you call out from inside. 

Walking in Chris saw you crouched down by one of the cupboards sorting through some of the supplies. You glanced over to see who it was, eyes widening slightly when you saw it was him. 

“Here for the leg?” you ask standing up and brushing off your hands. 

“Amongst other things” Chris states crossing his arms across his chest. 

You arch a brow at him and gesture towards the bed “Sit down and let me take a look” you tell him.

Chris lets out another huff but does as you tell him moving over to the bed and jumping up. 

“So what does it feel like?” you ask pulling on some gloves and moving over towards him. 

“Tight” Chris huffs.

You furrow your brows at him as if you were confused as to why he was pissed “Right well it doesn’t feel like you’ve done any serious damage” you say as you feel his calf muscle “Just need to do some stretches and maybe skip leg day” you add with a knowing look. 

“Fine” Chris mutters as he pushes himself up from the bed, brushing past you. 

“Hey, what’s up? You’re acting like a bit of a dick” you huff turning around to face him. 

“What’s up?” Chris scoffs “You know damn well what’s up”

“No I don’t!” you exclaim looking at him in disbelief and confusion. 

“You knew exactly who I was and didn’t feel the need to tell me who you were! Your dad is going to kill me if he finds out what we did!” Chris whispers harshly, not wanting to raise his voice and bring attention to this conversation. 

“What? I didn’t hide anything” you exclaim, your brows nearly disappearing into your hairline. 

“Yes, you did you hid who you were from me” Chris hisses.

You look at him bewildered “Well I’m sorry I didn’t announce who my dad was but it was pretty fucking obvious, I told you I was a medic and came from a rugby family, you would have known the Bears were looking for a new medic” you argue gesturing wildly with your arms “it takes two to tango”

“I wouldn’t have tango’ed if I’d known” Chris growls stepping closer and cornering you back against the wall. 

“Oh come on you’re being ridiculous!” you complain “We’re grown-ass adults! I don’t need Daddy’s permission to sleep with someone”  Chris’ nostrils flare as he tries to think of a response “If you wanna feel better about it my dad said no dating, I don’t know about you but I don’t consider sex to be a full-blown relationship” you point out “casual sex or… friends with benefits is still on the table” you continue your head tilting slightly as your gaze changed from irritated to turned on. 

That seems to snap Chris out of his stupor “No, this…” he says gesturing between the two of you “is over”

“What just because coach said so?” you huff before taking a deep breath “Look,” you say holding your hands up “Saturday night was the most… fun, I’ve had in a while and I feel pretty confident to say you found it fun too”

Chris’ jaw clenches as tries to deny it but can’t, only this morning he was considering calling you to schedule round two. But knowing who your dad was changed everything, yeah he shouldn’t let his coach stop him from doing what he wanted to do but he had the championship to worry about.

“So if you change your mind, you know where to find me” you say standing up tall “Don’t forget your stretches” you add patting his chest as you brushed passed him and walked out of the medical room. 

Chris blinked a couple of times as he watched you go, completely bewildered at the change in tone. He was still pissed but when he put his hands on his hips and looked down he saw the evidence of the other emotion he was feeling being so close to you. He stuffed his hands in his pockets to quickly readjust himself.

“Behave” he grumbled to himself as he walked back out of the room

Chris was so rilled up from training and his encounter with you that he felt close to bursting and needing a release. Exercising hadn’t helped, he couldn’t talk to his teammates about it. He considered talking to his mom about it but decided he needed someone with a bit more discretion. Frankly, he didn’t really want to talk about it either, he didn’t see how it would help, he just needed a distraction.

Hence why he was now standing outside his brother’s apartment building, repeatedly pressing the buzzer to get Scott’s attention.

“Alright, alright calm down” His brother’s voice finally came through over the intercom “Who is it?”

“It’s me” Chris huffs. 

“Sorry, I don’t know anyone named me” Scott replies making Chris groan in irritation, Scott knew exactly who he was and Chris wasn’t in the mood for games.

“Scott not now” Chris states his tone sharp.

“God what put you in a bad mood” Scott huffs, still not letting Chris into the building. 

“Right now, you” Chris grumbles “Now are you gonna let me in or not?” 

“What’s the magic word?” Scott asks in a singsongy tone.

“Scott” Chris growls in warning.

“Nope, incorrect,” Scott says. 

“Scott c’mon open up I’m not in the mood” Chris groans, hitting the buzzer again when he’s met with only silence “Scott!”

“What’s the magic word?” Scott asks again. 

Chris lets out a long sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose “Please?” he’s met with silence again, silence that drags out long enough that Chris considers just giving up before he finally hears the sound of the door unlocking. 

“Finally” he mutters to himself as he pushes the door open and makes his way inside. 

When he reaches Scott’s floor, Scott is already standing waiting for him with his arms crossed “Bad training session?” he asks as Chris walks over.

“Something like that” Chris grumbles as they walk inside Scott’s apartment. 

“Wanna talk about it?” Scott asks as he closes the door behind them, Chris considers it for a moment before shaking his head “Right Beer and MarioKart it is then” Scott decides before walking towards the fridge. 

“Thanks” Chris says letting out a long sigh as he sits down on the couch and stretches out. 

For the next hour or so the Evans Brothers played race after race. It was pretty even who was winning which just made it get even more competitive, to the point where they decided to play Rainbow Road, the track neither of them were good at to crown the winner. 

It had been a good distraction up until that point, but every time Chris’ character fell off the track his mind would wander until it was near impossible not to talk about it.

“I slept with the Coach’s daughter” he finally announces. 

It catches Scott off guard so much so that he spits out his beer, and his character plummets from the track. Scott turns to face Chris, the race now completely forgotten. 

“You did what?” he blinks. 

“In my defence, I didn’t know who she was and she didn’t tell me either” Chris reasons.

“Damn, does the coach know?” Scott asks as he wipes the rest of the beer from his face. 

“No, but when he introduced her to the team he gave a pretty clear warning to stay away” Chris explains.

Scott’s brows furrow in confusion, his head tilting “Why would he introduce her? Isn’t that just asking for trouble?” he asks.

“Because she’s the new medic” Chris explains.

Scott’s lips form a small ‘o’ in understanding before a smirk grows on his lips “You still like her, don’t you? You want the forbidden fruit”

“No” Chris grumbled but even he could hear how unconvincing he sounded. 

“Okay, if she wasn’t the coach’s daughter would you want to sleep with her again?” Scott asks with a knowing look. 

“I mean yeah” Chris admits with a shrug of his shoulders “but she is so I can’t”

“What does she think about all this?” Scott then asks. 

“She doesn’t care, says he can’t stop her from doing what she wants” Chris answers shaking his head “And she pointing out that he said no dating, he didn’t say no hook-ups or anything casual”

“I mean she’s got a point, you’re both adults if you wanna sleep with her and she wants to sleep with you there’s no problem” Scott shrugs. 

Chris looks at his brother in disbelief, he thought Scott would be on his side “The problem is that we have a championship to win, I can’t let a girl mess with that by getting in my head” Chris argues.

“Sounds like she’s already in there” Scott mutters as he takes a sip of his beer. 

“Not anymore, me and her are over” Chris states “It was a mistake that I’m never repeating again no matter how good it was”

Scott quietly snorts shaking his head “Yeah you tell yourself that” 

That evening when Chris got home, despite talking to Scott and making the decision that he’d never sleep with you again, he still felt restless. He’d taken Dodger for a long walk to see if that helped, it didn’t. He actually managed to wear the poor pup out which was a feat. 

No matter what he tried he just couldn’t get you off his mind. What really didn’t help was doing the stretches he needed to do to get rid of the tightness in his leg. If he could he would just ignore the direction and let his leg heal on its own but he had to get himself match ready. 

When he was finally done he decided to go have a shower to cool off, he needed to get you off his mind. If he couldn't get you out of his head before the next game he would be screwed. He couldn’t be distracted, he needed to be at the top of his game and not make any mistakes. 

Stepping inside his shower he almost instantly turned the temperature down. He knew he should be using hot water to help his muscles relax but cold water felt much better right about now. 

Except for the fact, it wasn’t really working and when he glanced down he groaned when he saw his cock standing proud. He tried to ignore it and just focus on what he needed to do but it was growing impossible with every second. 

He just needed a release that’s all. It had absolutely nothing to do with you it was just a release. As long as he didn’t think about you it would be completely fine. 

He repeated that to himself as he wrapped his hand around his erection and started working his hand up and down. His eyes fluttered shut as a groan escaped his lips. Yes, this was exactly what he needed. 

As he continued to work himself his mind began to wander, picturing your hand around his cock instead. As soon as he realised what he was doing he stopped himself, shaking his head trying to rid that image from his mind but it only got stronger.

Before he knew it he was picturing you down on your knees, your lips wrapped around his cock. He let out a long moan bracing himself against the wall as he pictured you taking him down your throat, your hand cupping his balls. 

“Fuck” Chris groaned as he started pumping himself faster. 

His daydreams about you only got more vivid, all of his senses betraying him. He could have sworn he could feel your nails digging into the back of his thighs, the feel of your hair in his hands as he guided you. He could smell the scent of your arousal that just made him want to turn your around and fuck you from behind. He could hear your moans and feel the vibrations of them around his cock. 

“Ah shit” he curses as he finally came, his spend hitting the shower wall. 

His chest heaved as he came down from his high, his eyes screwed shut and presses his forehead against the cool tile. The image of you was still flashing in his mind, the way you’d lick up every last drop he gave you, the way you’d look up at him through your lashes with a playful smirk that guaranteed he’d be hard again in no time at all. 

Eventually, the image of you faded and Chris opened his eyes, finding him still alone in the shower. The ice-cold water stung his back. He let out a long sigh as he quickly cleaned himself up and stepped out of the shower. 

He caught sight of himself in the mirror as he wrapped a towel around his face. Even he could see the distracted look on his face. He’d found a release but he wasn’t ready to admit it wasn’t the one he’d been craving. It had taken the edge off but something was still lingering. 

He just prayed it would be enough and soon enough the craving would go entirely. 

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[renecdote]

in a heartbeat

idk what this is that buddie scene in 6x12 just gave me lots of soft feelings

[Read on AO3]

Eddie doesn’t ask if he’s staying. He puts a sandwich on a plate and slides it across the table, tops up Buck’s water, and pretends he’s not watching out of the corner of his eye while Buck eats. Then he washes the dishes, not arguing when Buck grabs a tea towel and starts drying, and when everything is clean and put away, he offers another beer, and this time Buck says yes.

“Your sister does know you’re here, right?” he asks when they’re back at the couch, Netflix taking its sweet time loading on the TV.

Buck shrugs, picking at his beer label. “She’s probably figured it out.”

Because where else was he going to go?

Eddie just shakes his head, more fond than exasperated the way it might be from anyone else.

“Text her,” he says, not quite a suggestion. “Or she’s going to freak out when she goes over in the morning and you’re not there.”

He doesn’t ask if Buck is staying, he just assumes, and Buck wonders if he should speak to his cardiologist about the way his heart skips a beat. She’ll probably want to run a test for that too, make a note in his file: cause of heart problems — Eddie Diaz. No cure.

He texts Maddie (I’m fine, I’m with Eddie), then silences his phone and shoves it down the back of the couch so he doesn’t have to deal with any of the dozen follow-up questions he’s sure she’ll have. He almost feels bad for it when Eddie’s phone starts chiming a few minutes later, Maddie and Chimney’s names blowing up the screen, but not bad enough to regret it. It’s so much easier to be okay here, at Eddie’s house, on Eddie’s couch, and he doesn’t know how to explain that. Doesn’t know if he even wants to explain it.

(He tried, once, and Maddie just looked at him like she wasn’t sure if she should smack him on the head or hug him really, really tight. Buck decided it was easier not to bring it up again.)

He lets Eddie pick something to watch, sinking into his corner of the couch and trying hard not to think about it being his corner of the couch. It’s not like he always sits here, specifically, and there’s only a limited number of places to sit on a couch anyway, and Eddie sat down first, so. It’s not like it means anything.

(It’s not like it means everything.)

When the chill of the beer gets under Buck’s skin and he starts shivering, Eddie gets up without a word and comes back with a thick fleece blanket from the hall closet.

“Thanks,” Buck mumbles, huddling under it, waiting for the warmth to kick in.

“Nobody would believe you’re from the east coast,” Eddie teases, but he tugs Buck’s legs until they’re in his lap and starts rubbing warmth into him through the blanket.

Buck kind of wants to kiss him. He’s—not sure why that surprises him. It’s not like it’s the first time he’s thought it (not like it wasn’t one of the first thoughts he had about Eddie Diaz, new recruit). Maybe it’s just because he looks across the couch as Eddie raises his beer to his lips, watches the bob of his throat as he swallows, the way he glances at Buck afterwards, and for the first time in a long time he thinks—huh. maybe he wants to kiss me too.

“What?” Eddie asks, still watching him, eyebrows tilting towards confused. “Do I have something on my face?”

There’s room for a bad pickup line there, Buck thinks. Maybe more than one. For a brief moment, he lets himself imagine what might happen if he said it. If he leaned across the space between them and fit their lips together. If Eddie held him close and kissed back.

He shakes his head. “Nothing. Sorry, just—distracted, sorry.”

A quick of Eddie’s lips, something softer than amusement. “Watch the movie, Buck,” he says, squeezing Buck’s ankle, and there it is again, that familiar skip in his heartbeat.

Buck watches the movie, but he doesn’t follow a word of it.

He doesn’t look at Eddie again, either, half afraid of catching his best friend looking back.

When the movie is over, the TV shut off and the room dark, Eddie still doesn’t ask if he’s staying on the couch. He just holds out a hand and pulls Buck to his feet, blanket held around his shoulders like a cape, and gently pushes him down the hall towards the bedroom.

“Okay?” he checks, when they’re both under the covers, too much and too little space between them.

Buck closes his eyes and sees the outline of his best friend in the dark, so close and yet so far.

“Yeah,” he answers. “I’m okay.”

This is more than okay.

Eddie doesn’t ask him to stay, but if he did, Buck knows he would say yes in a heartbeat. It makes him smile as he falls asleep because he’s pretty sure—at least ninety percent sure—that if he asked, Eddie would say yes too.

[9w1ft]

Lately I cannot stop thinking "Peace" is from Karlie's perspective. If the whole "Josh is gay and Taylor coming out would push Karlie out wich would in turn push Josh out" is true, Karlie may be the reason why Taylor is stuck in the closet.

The song talks about how she will do anything to keep her warm and keep the blue away, which is how Taylor represented them in previous song: T is blue and K is sunshine, daylight, warmth.

It also mentions being a friend and the devil being in the details, talking shit with the friends and wasting her honor and this can be explained as Karlie doing anything necessary to get into Scooter's circle of trust to help T bring him down.

It beautifully explains unconditional love: at the end of the day she would do anything for her and she would be there during the toughest times, take risks, swing for the fences (I cannot even imagine what would have happened if anyone knew K was playing a double agent). Give you my wild and give you a child, both literally ;) and as a metaphor are fantastic to explain growing oldtogether, sharing adventures first and commitments later.

Give you my sunshine speaks for its own.

Robbers to the east may represent the Trumps and Kushners in the East Coast meaning serious problems and threats. Clowns to the West, I take it a representation of the entertainment industry and situations that make no sense, are chaotic, etc

What do you think?

i hope you don’t mind my freeform response! it had me writing about this and that.

regarding your first paragraph im not sure i fully agree with the premise that you mention. its definitely a way that people who talk about kaylor think or frame things, and i think i was of this mind for a time as well. but as the years pass and i think on it more and see more, i would hesitate to suggest that the end goal or win condition that taylor has in mind for her life is her coming out of the closet, and everything else she encounters is things getting in the way of that. to offer an alternative, maybe taylor’s end goal (at the time) was be able to share a happy public life with the love of her life, and coming out was a means to that end in her best laid plans, and then there were situations and circumstances that complicated the path she had laid out to this more ultimate goal.

maybe these two things don’t seem all that different but to me i think its worth it to make a distinction because i think it reflects different motivations or drivers that compel taylor to take the actions that she has. also, i don’t think we can definitively say that they were/are keeping taylor in the closet because as we see with lover era all indications point to taylor being all systems go for coming out herself, so i assume there was some sort of agreed way that thing would have rolled out that included taylor coming out. maybe not but, i don’t think it’s particularly wild to assume.

i guess one might go on to say that that the lakes and “i’m setting off but not without my muse” suggests that she was held back from coming out because of her muse, but i would argue that the lakes is a good example of how taylor’s core priority is actually her muse and not her impulse to go where the ‘poets’ live and die free

alright, so, putting all that aside, let’s talk a bit about peace. at the time that folklore came out there was a lot of discussion about peace being a karlie perspective song or a back and forth conversation between the two of them, so you are definitely not alone in this idea! i too feel like parts of the song read as sentiments from karlie, but im not sure about the song in its entirety—

for me, there is one line that’s hard to square with this karlie perspective idea: “your integrity makes me seem small.” because it’s hard for me to imagine someone writing a line like this about themself, praising one’s own integrity. it’s self aggrandizement, in my opinion. and not that all keywords have to carry through with 100% consistency but i think that this line matches up well with the Hits Different lyric “your sense of belief in the good in the world” — also the line “all these people think love’s for show but i would die for you in secret” rings like something taylor would sing of herself, because, and im not sure how to articulate it but speaking as a person who’s been around all this stuff for a reasonable chunk of time, ive always gotten the sense that it’s taylor of the two that is more quick to pull the plug. karlie is much more outspoken about what she believes in the moment, evidenced by whenever she speaks publicly, and i think she is often left more open to attack, whereas taylor is more the one to throw smokescreens and leave her on waves being tossed… etc.

i don’t think that everything taylor says in interviews is true, especially when it comes to how she explains her songs, but i do think it’s worth watching the snippet from long pond studio sessions where she’s talking about peace with aaron (you can search for clips of this on youtube). taylor acknowledges that she can protect a relationship from some things but not all things. i think in this explanation you can sort of see ideas about her self forming that connect to songs like anti hero, the idea that maybe some portion of this isn’t just a matter of can or cannot but also will or will not, the idea that she might be the problem in the relationship because of her tendency to distrust. i fear i’ve slid into psychoanalysis territory so let me just reiterate this is just the impression i get from taylor’s art and from what she has said and what we see she has done or not done, i don’t mean to claim that i know who she is.

to backtrack a little bit, if you play the keyword game it sort of becomes a game of othello with this part of the song because, do the dreamscapes connect to the impressionist paintings of loml? same with the shit talking? does that disposition match up to the contrarian shit line from gold rush? is the brother taylor’s literal brother or karlie’s often-referred-to-as-a-brother friend in derek? or someone else? can taylor contain sunshine as well? does the fire building connect to ciwyw or can taylor build fires too? is the rain always going to come when standing with karlie or is that a metaphor connected to the cursed motif taylor employs when describing about herself? etc etc.. it becomes hard to piece away at some point but i do think that all these themes do describe their story.

oh one technical thing i would add in closing is that the lyric “robbers to the east clowns to the West” is stylized in the lyric booklet with a capital W for West, and i think it’s generally accepted as a dig at kanye.

[something-tofightfor]

The Truth Is Out There: Closure

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Female Art Conservator/Restoration Specialist FBI Agent

Word Count: 7,390

Chapter Rating: M (language, talk of drug use, mentions of sex)

Series Warnings: Sex Pollen (with a twist), no use of Y/N, female reader insert, Reader works for the FBI in art restoration/conservation and has a nickname that is used often by Marcus. In this house we cannot stand Teresa and Jane and that is reflected in this story.

Summary: The morning after brings new challenges for you and Marcus, but you’re both surprisingly prepared.

Author’s Note: This is the end. and I hope it’s satisfying for you. Thank you all for reading and for following along and for leaving me so many fantastic comments and reblogs. I’m going to start going through and replying tomorrow, so please don’t think I’ve been ignoring you. 

Thank you for letting me take some time off from regularly scheduled projects to crank this one out. I had a BLAST writing it. 

I might come back to these two at a later date - who knows. We’ll see. I appreciate every single one of you that encouraged and supported this story from beginning to end. You are incredible. 

Masterlist / Unrequited / One Breath / The Truth / This Is Not Happening / Three Words / Soft Light / Sleepless

He opened his eyes well before you did the next morning, Marcus careful not to jostle the mattress too much as he came to. Did yesterday really happen? Taking a breath, he turned his head to the side, catching a glimpse of your profile in the thin beam of light shining through the closed curtains. It did. 

Marcus used every ounce of self control not to reach for you. Instead, he closed his eyes again, a contented smile spreading across his face. It finally did. 

Keeping you at arm’s length for a year had been the most difficult thing he’d ever done. The fact that everything had come to a head in one unforgettable night wasn’t something he fully understood, but he knew he couldn’t question it. 

Not when that single night had given him exactly what he’d wanted - and what you’d wanted - in only a few hours. Marcus rolled toward you, extending his arm and slipping it over your body. Part of him hoped you’d stay asleep. Another part of him wanted you to wake up just so that he could watch your features come alive as you also realized that the previous day had been something that you’d actually experienced. It wasn’t just something that we imagined.

You stayed asleep though, your quiet breathing steady. It only took him a few seconds to move even closer, the tips of his fingers dragging up and over the center of your back with just enough contact that he could feel the heat from your skin. We’re going to have to get up, but it can wait. Marcus closed his eyes again, exhaling - and he let his mind wander. 

It had started as soon as he’d landed in DC, getting settled in his new position and used to his new team. He’d met you after only a few days on the East coast, and despite the fact that he’d still been waiting on Teresa’s answer to his questions, he’d been drawn to you. 

It was a physical attraction, sure. Just because he was with Teresa didn’t mean that he was ignorant of what was happening around him. But it was also the way that you’d been so confident in your position, greeting him with an air of professional interest and telling him you’d heard of him - that you were excited to work with him. It was the way you were friendly but not overly so, understanding of the fact that he had a woman in Texas that would be moving to be with him as soon as she could. 

You kept your distance, though you never shied away from being his friend or striking up a conversation. And he’d appreciated the way your eyes flashed when he told you what had happened with Teresa and Jane, your sympathy genuine but not at all the same kind of pity that so many others were unable to hide.

“I’m sorry to hear that. I guess  that means you’re going to need an actual friend out here, hmm?” You shrugged your shoulders, cocking your head to the side. “DC’s a lot busier than Texas, Agent Pike. Plenty of people here that might try and steer you in the wrong direction if you let ‘em.” 

He paused, putting a hand on his hip and eyeing you. “You’re going to point me in the right one, then? Toward all the good people?” It was easy to talk to you and even easier to joke with you, and after a couple weeks of silently moping in his half-unpacked condo, it felt good to relax, even just a little. “How do I know you’re not one of the ones that are going to -”

“You don’t.” You leaned back in your chair, holding out both hands and shrugging. “Guess that’s just something you’re going to have to find out for yourself.” 

The friendship had bloomed quickly, you and Marcus eating lunch together a few days a week when your caseload allowed it. You went out together with the rest of your team, the two of you teaming up on trivia nights and getting to know each other in the safety of additional company. It was enough for Marcus - the man not wanting to jump into yet another ill-timed infatuation with someone that had sparked his interest. It was especially true since he couldn’t get Teresa and the way she’d treated him out of his mind. 

And then, after another month and a half - and his return from Texas without having any sort of meaningful conversation with Teresa -  you’d started trading text messages back and forth outside of office hours, sending him restaurant recommendations and updating him on the shows you were watching that you thought he might enjoy. The texts turned into hours spent together binging those TV shows and movies, your friendship growing stronger by the day and naturally evolving faster than he’d been prepared for.

It had been Marcus that invited you to dinner alone for the first time, and Marcus that started the actual flirting. It was Marcus that had taken your hand and squeezed it while you walked through the Constitution Gardens. 

But it was you that laced your fingers with his, you that leaned your head against his shoulder as the two of you watched TV on your couch. And it was you that kissed him for the first time - the press of your lips against his cheek a chaste thing, despite the look in your eyes when you pulled away.. That kiss had come after he’d given you your nickname - a half-assed explanation that sounded much better in his head sounding hollow as he spoke it. 

He old you one of the reasons for your nickname, but he hadn’t been able to tell you the entire truth. 

He hadn’t been able or ready to admit that he didn’t only call you Scully because of the way you were with him at work, but because if there was one thing Marcus understood, it was thinly concealed desire and feeling things that you couldn’t explain. And those were two things that it was getting harder for him to ignore the more time he spent around you. 

You’d never pushed him for more, and he appreciated that. He was content to be your friend and only your friend because it meant that nothing would change between you and leave him more alone than the failed relationship with Teresa had. It was selfish and he knew it, but the thought of losing you - or even pushing you away when you realized just how much Lisbon and Jane still affected him - was something he refused to consider.

That lasted until one day you’d been in a terrible mood at work. 

After a few hours of coaxing, he finally got the explanation that a date had gone terribly the night before. Hearing the disappointment in your voice yet again led him to throwing his hands in the air and telling you that if you wanted to go on a real date, he was right there. 

Waiting for you answer in the silence of your office had been nerve wracking, but you’d agreed much faster than he’d anticipated. That simple yes set an almost perfect few weeks -  including a series of dates that weren’t much different from what you had been doing previously in terms of where you went and how you spoke to each other - into motion. 

Those dates, though, had been accompanied with more touching, tentative hugs and timid pecks on the cheek that turned into deeper kisses and bodies pressed together. But each of those nights ended with Marcus feeling guilty that there was a part of him that felt the Teresa situation was unresolved - that he still wanted to talk to her and say his piece.  

And that guilt grew the closer you and Marcus got to actual intimacy. He found it harder to concentrate on you and your time together when she was nagging at the back of his mind. It all came to a head when the two of you had ended up on his couch, Marcus atop you, balanced on one knee and his other foot flat on the floor. 

It was too much, and even though it was happening at a much more reasonable pace than with Teresa, he knew you deserved more than what he was giving you. So he’d put a stop to it, explaining everything as best as he could without giving everything away.

He’d expected you to end the friendship then and there, your frustration with his continued focus on Teresa ruining what the two of you had built. But you didn’t. And to your credit, you never purposely let him know how much it hurt to step so far back that the two of you left real space between each other on the couch again, or that you didn’t take each other’s hands as you walked down sidewalks or send each other the same types of texts that you’d grown accustomed to.

There was distance but it was never outright cold between you. As things settled back into a semblance of what they’d been, Marcus resigned himself to watching you date again. He even went so far as to ask you about each one, though he had to choke the words out every time. 

You did the same with him when he started casually seeing women in an attempt to get back out there. But he saw the hurt in your eyes and heard it in your voice when you replied to his stories or asked follow up questions. She doesn’t want the answers but she’s still curious.

He’d done a much better job at hiding his emotions than you had. On the inside, he was suffering. 

And the more he thought about it, the more he realized that it wasn’t Teresa or lingering feelings that were keeping you apart. It was only him, and his fear of losing something else he cared about because he’d failed. He still wanted to officially close the Teresa chapter to his own satisfaction before anything happened between you, though.

So when the opportunity presented itself, he jumped. 

He’d told you that it was happening because above all else, Marcus wanted to be honest. He wanted you to know that he was trying, and needed you to understand that he was trying to move forward. But he didn’t anticipate just how much knowing that he would be seeing Teresa would bother you. And as he sat at home on Sunday thinking about it, he knew that he’d fucked up big time by bringing it up the way he had. 

As soon as he’d seen Teresa, the woman stepping out of the hotel she’d asked him to pick her up from, Marcus knew that the decision he’d made was the right one. He felt nothing but contempt for her - no tug on his heart, no butterflies in his stomach, no heat rising in his cheeks. The whole time they’d been at lunch, catching up without actually talking in depth about anything, his mind had been on you. So when he saw that there was a missed voicemail with your name attached, he hadn’t been able to listen to it soon enough. 

And when he’d heard your voice - and the barely concealed terror in it, though you’d tried to stay calm - throwing cash onto the table and sprinting toward his car had been the only logical response. 

“M…Marcus? You’re breathing hard. Are you alright?” Sucking in a breath, he refocused his attention, finding that you were already awake and studying him. Shit, I missed it. “You trying to figure out how you can get out of bed without -”

“Absolutely not.” With the hand on your back pressed against your skin, he raised a brow. “I’m just thinking, I guess. About -”

“About how it’s like none of yesterday was real?” You frowned, head turning toward the pillow as you yawned. “About how aside from being sore and tired, I feel absolutely fine, and not at all like ten hours ago, when it felt like if you weren’t inside me, I was going to lose it?” 

“Y… yes?” He laughed at how serious you sounded, leaning closer to settle his forehead against yours. “All of that?” The room was quiet again, the only sound the soft rustle of the blankets as you stretched your legs. “You were going to lose it? Is that really -”

 “Shut up, Marcus, and kiss me good morning already. I know you want to.” You moved even as you spoke, repositioning yourself without lifting your head so that you could press your lips against his. He kissed you in return, both eyes slipping closed before his hand slid even further up your back, urging you closer. You parted your lips at the first sign of his tongue, and as the kiss deepend, Marcus’ instincts took over. 

Marcus leaned in, your body twisting so that you were on your back, some of his weight shifting to settle atop you. To his surprise, you gasped and then nipped hard at his lip, the man jolting away from you and frowning. What the - “Absolutely not, Agent Pike. My body needs at least a few days to recover from that marathon last night, and -”

He laughed first, the sound ringing through the room, and seconds later, you joined him, his body slumping against yours again as he lowered his head to kiss you quickly. “That’s not where this was headed, Scully. I swear. It -” 

The ringing of the phone interrupted him, both of you freezing at the sound. There’s only a handful of people that know we’re here, so … “Looks like it’s time for our debrief, hmm?” You shoved him away, groaning. “Do you think they’ll let us shower before we’re expected back in the office?” 

— 

Two hours later, he was in one of the briefing rooms, waiting. 

After your showers - separate and not nearly long enough for his liking - you’d headed back to the J. Edgar Hoover building, the same three DEA agents and your boss waiting to greet you. You’d been separated almost immediately, Deanna and an FBI agent pulling you down one hallway and Scott and Cavanaugh leading him in another. 

He’d gone through a repeat of the previous day’s testing, answering questions about how he felt and what had happened in the hotel room while under the influence while he was poked and prodded by a nurse. Marcus answered everything, doing his best to give straightforward and simple answers. He hadn’t wanted to reveal anything but facts because it didn’t feel right to talk in detail about what had happened without you present. 

And once the initial questions and examinations were over, the secondary ones began. 

Those felt much more routine, and even though Marcus was more than certain he didn’t need to take precautions when it came to anything getting shared between you, he let the nurse perform her duties. The woman took even more samples and offered treatment in the form of preventative medication, though she was clinical about it - putting Marcus at ease.. 

The last thing that happened before he was escorted to the conference room was a mandatory hydration IV. Marcus planned on using the down time to think through everything, preparing himself for what came next. Instead, he dozed off in the chair as the liquid flowed from the hanging bag and into his arm, cheek resting on the palm of his right hand. 

Scott had assured him that you’d be joining him as soon as you finished your own examinations before excusing himself to confer with the DEA. But in the ten minutes Marcus was alone and waiting, the silence seemed to stretch on and on. I hope she’s alright. I hope - 

“Brought you breakfast.” He heard your voice when the door opened, Marcus’ head whipping toward the sound. “I made them go and get us something that wasn’t from the cafeteria.” You had a bag over one arm and a cardboard drink carrier in the other - two cups of coffee nestled inside. “Banana chocolate chip pancakes with cinnamon and extra butter and syrup for you, and -”

My favorite. “Did you make them go to Ted’s?” Marcus reached for the containers, his eyes locked on the bandage on your inner arm, though he was smiling. She had an IV too. “Because -”

“I did.” You slid into the seat next to his, turning to stare at the man. “It’s the least they could do for us, right? I swear I’ve never been poked and prodded so much before.” Tapping on the lid of one coffee cup, you raised a brow. “This one’s yours. Not sure caffeine is the right call after an IV to rehydrate us, but … fuck it, right?” 

He grinned and reached for the cup, bringing it to his lips and taking a small sip. “Shit, Scully, how’d you have time to think of doing this? It was go-go-go for me, up until the IV.” 

“Same here.” You wet your lips, picking up a piece of toast. “But as soon as they told me I had 40 minutes to sit, I brought up the fact that you and I hadn’t really had a chance to eat since yesterday afternoon. I think Deanna’s assistant is afraid of me, because that girl ran out of the room almost as fast as I gave her our order.” Afraid of you? Hmm. 

“Thank you for thinking of me.” He bit into the pancakes, barely holding back a quiet moan of satisfaction. “And thank you for thinking of Ted’s, because this is perfect.” 

“You uh…” Clearing your throat, you lowered your chin and took a deep breath before meeting his eyes again. “You said once while we were out with the team that after a night of good sex, there was nothing like pancakes to set the tone for the next day.” Holy shit, she remembered that? That was just while we were all hanging out and having some beers. I didn’t even know she heard me. “I guess I just sort of assumed that last night was good, and -”

“Hey.” He set his fork down and reached for you, settling one hand on your forearm. “You assumed right.” Marcus squeezed, saying your name. “Very right. And I know that we didn’t really get to talk earlier, but after we get out of here, maybe we could -”

The sound of the door opening drew his attention away from you, and the sound of your sharp inhale was paired with the drop of his stomach as a third person stepped in. No fucking way. “Scott told me to come in here and wait. I’m here for the debrief.” 

“Why?” He frowned as he spoke, leaving his hand in place on your arm. “Why are you -” 

Teresa’s eyes moved between both of you, one corner of her mouth twitching at the placement of his fingers. “Because I heard a lot of what happened in the hallway, and they’re covering their bases, Marcus. You know how these things go. Better to be safe than sorry and let me know what I’m allowed to say.” 

You were quiet, but he felt the way your muscles tensed, your back going straight. Of course this is … shit. He gave you another squeeze and then let go, returning to his food. There was a tension in the room that was almost as palpable as it had been the day before when there was glass between you and Teresa, and as he chewed through his meal, Marcus looked everywhere but at the dark haired woman across the table from where you sat. 

“Well this is awkward.” You pushed your to-go container away a few minutes later, crossing your arms and leaning back. “I don’t think we’ve actually been introduced, Teresa.” Marcus watched helplessly as you shifted on your chair and then leaned forward, arching a brow. “But Marcus has told me so much about you I feel like I know all of the most important things.” 

He didn’t know what you were doing - or what you hoped to accomplish - by making conversation with the other woman. He knew where you stood when it came to your feelings about Teresa, and actually had a better idea than he had only hours earlier. But that doesn’t mean that I want her to be a part of this, or have her feel like she - “Marcus does like to talk.” Teresa was eyeing you, lips set into a smirk. “But he didn’t say anything about you yesterday.” 

It cut through him - but the woman was right, even though he hadn’t kept you from her for the reasons Teresa was implying. Fuck. Fuck, she’s going to ruin it again. And after last night if that happens, I’ll….  I don’t know what I’ll do. He sipped his coffee again, coughing quietly when you spoke up. “Nah, I imagine he wouldn’t have. We got into a fight over the weekend, so we weren’t actually talking yesterday morning.” 

“Didn’t seem like that yesterday. He got your voicemail and we came right over.” She frowned, looking between the two of you. Marcus opened his mouth to reply but you beat him to it, the man watching as you lifted your coffee and took a long sip. 

“It’s complicated.” You set the cup down, one fingertip tracing over the lid’s edge. “But you’d know a lot about that, wouldn’t you?” You were toeing the line - and he would have been lying if he tried to say it didn’t turn him on to watch the razor thin patience you had for the woman play out in real time. 

It wasn’t all on Teresa - and he knew that you knew it, but he wasn’t going to intervene after so many months of you suffering quietly from a distance. I want to see where this goes. “Look.” She sighed, head shaking back and forth a few times. “I tried to call you a few times last night. I know we didn’t leave things in the best place yesterday, Marcus. I’m sure you were stressed because of whatever was in that room, so…” She trailed off, chewing on her lower lip. “So maybe after the debrief, we can go somewhere and talk? Finish the conversation we were having about -”

“No.” He flattened both hands on the tabletop, scoffing. “Teresa, I was stressed yesterday but that doesn’t mean I didn’t mean what I said. In fact…” He risked a glance over at you, the tiny smile on your face knowing. “It was more true than you realize. I think after this -” he gestured to the room, finally looking at Teresa. “I don’t think we’ll need to say anything else to each other again.” 

The words affected her - he’d give her that. He could see the hurt in her eyes, watched as her lips parted in surprise and she recoiled slightly in her chair. But I don’t feel… I don’t feel bad. At all. “Can we do this alone, please? Not with someone else in the -”

“Oh, just feel free to pretend like I’m not even here.” You laughed, waving one hand in the air. “It’s what I’m going to do about you as soon as Scott and Cavanaugh come in and we start this.” He barely contained his laughter, Marcus’ chest going tight at the easy way you were responding to the woman - like you had nothing to lose. I guess she doesn’t. It doesn’t matter what Teresa thinks of her, and she knows that I … 

“Well that’s rude.” Teresa’s eyes narrowed. “Marcus and I are -”

The opening door startled all three of you, and as your SSA and Scott stepped into the room, you went quiet. Good, let’s get this over with. “Good morning, you two.” Cavanaugh dropped into a seat at one end of the table, folding his hands together. “Feeling alright?” 

Marcus wondered what the other man knew, and when he caught his eye, the glint of amusement there told him that Cavanaugh was well aware of what the drug’s properties were. Great. “Yeah. Tired, but yeah. Feels kind of like a hangover but without the headache?”

“It does.” You agreed, reaching for your coffee. “We fell asleep early last night, too - and didn’t wake up until this morning. You’d think we’d be well rested.” Spinning your cup in a slow circle, you bit your lower lip. “How long will this last, Scott? Deanna said you’d give us all the details.”

“Feeling tired is normal.” Scott nodded, sliding folders across the table to you, Marcus and Teresa before he and Scott opened the remaining two. “Even if you do nothing to alleviate the symptoms of ingestion, people have said that they were tired after taking it, just because their bodies were in hyperdrive for so many hours.”

“Symptoms of ingestion?” Teresa wet her lips. “What -”

“Agents, before we start, I wanted to let you know that you’re off for the rest of the week.” Cavanaugh said your names, one hand slicing through the air. “And that means until Monday. Fully paid, since this isn’t a punishment, it’s just to make sure that any lingering effects aren’t going to keep you from doing your jobs.” Because they think we might just jump each other in the field?

He opened his mouth to argue, but Marcus realized that he didn’t want to. If we’re both off, then that means … You turned your head slowly toward him, a smile on your lips. That means we can spend more time together. “Got it, boss.” You nodded at Marcus before returning your attention to the other man, one finger tapping on the unopened envelope. “Do we get to keep these?”

“Unfortunately, no.” Scott spoke, sighing. “The existence of this is being kept classified for right now. We can’t keep it off the streets entirely, but keeping people from knowing about it is important. As both of you know, the effects are powerful. And even though it takes some time to kick in, they linger.” He was nodding as Scott continued, one hand rising to rub at the back of his neck. They do. “The information will be available for you to access on an encrypted network, but the actual paperwork we need to keep, we just wanted you to have something to look at today if you wanted to.” 

“Ok, but what does it do? All I saw was the two of them getting irritable. It didn’t seem … that bad. Is it dangerous?” Teresa was looking between the DEA agent and the papers, frowning. “Lapis? What does that even mean?”

“Might want to use layman’s terms, Scott.” You took a deep breath. “Skip the scientific bullshit and just get to the truth. Make it a little easier for everyone to understand.” 

“What is said in this room is classified information, first and foremost.” Scott looked around the table, making eye contact with each of you. “Agents, you’ve given us separate reports, and have already covered a lot, but there are some things that I’ll need to ask before you go, just to tie up loose ends.” Sure. Understandable. He swallowed hard, taking a deep breath. “Ms. Lisbon, th-”

“She’s married. Her last name is Jane.” Marcus barely held back a snort of laughter at your interjection, watching as you pointed. “See? Ring on her finger.” You were antagonizing the woman, and Marcus couldn’t say he was surprised. She’s not normally like this. I wonder … I wonder why now. 

“My apologies. Mrs. Jane.” Scott pressed his lips together. “The drug that was concealed in the paintings is a new variation of a recreational drug that is used in a variety of ways. As best as we know, it was developed to be a tool for less… intensive interrogation.” Interrogation? He snuck a look at you, taking in the confused expression you wore. “There are two components to it that interact, and one of them is… the easiest way to describe it is a truth serum. But it’s a little more complicated than that, because it doesn’t exactly force the truth, it just lowers your capacity to reason and results in … well, not holding back.” 

“So basically, you say the first thing that comes to mind.” He nodded, Teresa eyeing Marcus before turning her attention to you. “Yeah, that definitely happened.” 

“It did.” Scott laughed, pointing at you. “And since you inhaled smaller doses for longer before Marcus entered the room, that part was something that we saw while you were still in there together.” You nodded twice, though you stayed quiet. He risked a glance at Teresa and saw that the woman’s attention was still focused on you, her brows knit. She has no idea where this is going.  “The other component of Lapis is a drug that increases sex drive and raises the body’s level of arousal to the point where it becomes almost impossible to ignore. However, from what we’ve learned and observed, the impact is more potent toward someone there’s already a connection with.” 

He heard her gasp, Marcus watching as Teresa lifted a hand to cover her mouth. He expected her to turn her attention to him, but instead the woman still stared at you, the look in her eyes hard. Why is she angry? It’s not like this was planned. “We talked about it last night, Scott.” You reached over, touching Marcus’ hand. “And we’re both curious about why this combination is … what’s the point of mixing those two things together?”

“Think about it.” Cavanaugh leaned forward, both palms flat on the table. “People already tend to be a little more uninhibited and honest during sex, especially with people they’re involved with. But what if that was magnified? What if that honesty lasted?” Marcus’ frown deepened, the man shifting in his chair. We were honest between the sex, too. And before … and … after. So - 

“Oh, shit.” You stood, pushing away from the table and crossing your arms. “People might not even realize that they’ve been drugged. And if they do, they’ll just think someone … I don’t know, roofied them or something. Marcus and I were just talking without thinking before we spoke, and it felt normal up until we got into the room … oh, shit.” 

“So this is how criminals get people to talk. It’s how they’ll be able to find out secrets and what people are hiding, or what they really think.” He scoffed. “Slip someone the powder, or -”

“We’ve actually seen it in pill form, too. It’s the same color blue, and that’s how we knew what it was.” Scott held up a hand. “But both of you are right. Taking it, you’re not in any real physical danger from the drug itself. Yeah, it’ll make things … interesting for a while, but you both said that by the time you’d exhausted yourselves, you were able to go to sleep. You were in control of yourselves the whole time, you just couldn’t stop with the honesty.” Or the sex. 

“So you’re telling me…” Teresa began, her tone full of disbelief. “That the FBI put the two of you up in a thousand dollar a night hotel room just so that you could have hours of sex?” She rolled her eyes. “You said that you were fighting yesterday morning, and the two of you aren’t even together. Is that a joke?” 

“No, Teresa, it’s not.” Marcus leaned forward. “What was the alternative? Letting us go home? Telling us to get into our cars and drive somewhere? Having us spend the night in the clean room, with a wall of glass windows and fifteen cameras?” He pointed at the door, the anger rising in his chest. “We were drugged on FBI property, and putting us up in that hotel was the best way that they could keep an eye on us and make sure -”

“So they watched you? Did they film it?” She smiled, but there was no joy in it, the woman closing her eyes briefly. “Was there someone in the room with you to make sure you were alright?” 

“No. But I’m sure they were somewhere in the building.” You sounded calm and when Marcus looked over at you, he saw that you had a hand on your hip, the other arm hanging loosely at your side. “Right? If we’d needed you for anything, all we had to do was call.” 

“Exactly.”  He took a breath. “There was no reason to stay with you. You’re both adults, and you understood the risks of staying in the same suite while under the influence. But if either of you had reacted badly to the Lapis, we would have been there in minutes to get you to a hospital.” He tapped his fingers on the table. “Long story short, the two of you are part of a very small group of people that have been exposed to this drug - that we know of. Your reaction to it is in line with what others that we’ve encountered have experienced, though certain responses were … heightened. And getting to observe you in the beginning stages of effect and to interview you again today has helped. So has having such a large quantity remaining to study.” Good. At least something worthwhile for them came out of this. 

“And me?” Teresa tilted her head to the side. “What does me knowing this do?” 

“Mrs. Jane, to be honest, if you hadn’t been in that hallway last night, you wouldn’t need to be here today.” Cavanaugh sighed. “We brought you in here so that you understood what you’d seen, and could give you a chance to ask questions if you had them.” He paused, fingers moving restlessly over the folder on the table. “You weren’t impacted by the drug itself. You didn’t experience what these two did, and when you leave here today, your life won’t be changed in any way.” That’s not quite true. “We take care of our Agents, as you should know, and we wanted to be sure that they had the support they needed. The hotel was close, so it made much more sense than keeping them here or sending them home.” 

He didn’t know why they were explaining things in such detail to the woman. Teresa had already gotten much more of an update than Marcus would have given her, but as the silence stretched, he realized that he didn’t care. “Do you need her in here anymore?” Marcus gestured toward the woman, shaking his head. “Because you said that you had more questions for us, and I’m assuming it’s based on what happened in the room.” He took a breath, wetting his lips. “I’d rather she not be here for any of that.”

“But -” Teresa flipped open the envelope, averting her eyes to scan the pages. “You haven’t explained anything. It’s a truth serum sex drug, so …” She flipped through them, looking up at Scott. “What if only one person takes it? How would they react to being around someone else that didn’t?”

“Well we can’t answer that, Teresa, because both Marcus and I got dosed.” You sighed, lowering your head. “All we know is what happens when two people take it.” 

“You sure that truth part wore off? Marcus seems normal, but you’re being extremely -” 

“I don’t need a truth serum to be honest with you, Teresa. I’ll do it just because I don’t like you..” Leaning forward, you propped your chin on one hand. Ok, seeing her like this is … damn. He wanted to kiss you - wanted to grab you and pull you back into his lap and wrap his arms around you, and three other people - including his ex - being two feet away didn’t change that. “And you and Marcus aren’t anything anymore, especially since he just made it pretty clear that after today, he doesn’t -”

“The data will be available to you on a closed network, Mrs. Jane. We’ve told you the basics of what we do know, but like with any new drug or substance that we’re made aware of, it’s going to take time to learn everything about it.” Cavanaugh stood, interrupting the two of you and crossing his arms. “But I agree with Marcus. I don’t think you need to be in here for the last of their debriefing, so if you want to come with me, we’ll let them finish.” No, wait. 

“Wait a second.” He took a deep breath, eyes locked on his former fiancee’s. “Can I have a few minutes with Teresa before she goes?” Marcus’ heart was pounding, but he’d never been more certain of anything in his life. “I’m sorry to be a pain in the ass, and I’m sure you’re on a schedule, but -” 

“Of course. We can go into the hall and let you have the room.” He looked away from his ex and at you, not knowing what to expect. But you looked hopeful, the set of your shoulders straight. And without thinking, he reached a hand out. 

“Marcus?” You blinked, stepping forward and taking it. “Are -”

“I meant it.” He didn’t look away. “All of it. I just need… to do this.” 

“Of course.” You squeezed his hand as you leaned down, kissing his cheek. “I meant it too.” When you straightened up and let go, you grabbed for your folder before following the other two men from the room. 

After the door closed behind you, leaving him sitting across the table from the second woman he’d thought he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, Marcus reached for his almost empty cup of coffee. “What do you want to say to me, Teresa?” 

She pushed away from the table, gripping the edge and then glancing up. “I thought … I thought that coming here, we’d talk about what happened. I thought that we’d have time to really… catch up.” Catch up? That’s what you thought? “But now it seems like you just want to get rid of me to get back to -” She pointed at the doorway. “Her.” 

“You mean get back to my life?” He laughed, running a hand through his hair and then over his jaw, fingers catching on the stubble there. “Teresa, a couple years ago, I thought you were going to be my life.” He knew that once he started speaking, he wouldn’t be able to stop. Say what you need to say, but don’t … don’t go overboard. “I couldn’t wait to get here with you and start that. Start … fresh. But because of what you did? Because of how badly it fucked me up? I couldn’t do any of it.” 

“I didn’t -” She scoffed, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes. “The way you reacted wasn’t my fault. I thought you’d understand.” Yeah, you thought. 

“The way I reacted was my fault, and I know that. But the way you treated me? The way you left me for another man ten minutes after accepting my proposal and agreeing to move out here with me? The way you didn’t even try to explain?” He slammed his coffee cup onto the table, the top coming dislodged and sliding slightly askew. “You really think that calling and saying “Hey, Marcus, I’m not coming. This case made me realize a lot of things. I hope … I hope you don’t hate me” was the right thing to do? I figured it was Jane, but had to hear about it from Fischer.” 

“It was hard, Marcus. It wasn’t that I didn’t care about you, I just couldn’t …” 

“Then you shouldn’t have agreed. You shouldn’t have led me on. Dating is one thing, and I understand keeping things casual, but the commitment?  I was an idiot for letting it happen the way it did, and an even bigger idiot for thinking that I could actually compare to him in the long run.” Marcus wet his lips, finally looking away and toward the room’s windows, which were completely covered by closed blinds. “I shouldn’t have had to compare, and I know that now. But it took me way too long to get to that point.” He pointed at where you’d been sitting, head shaking back and forth. “Yeah, Teresa. I want to get back to her. I want to make up for all the lost time I spent not letting myself believe that I could actually have what I wanted.” 

He took a breath, thinking. There was more he could have said - letting the anger he’d felt for so many months seep into his voice entirely, or raising his voice like his father had done so many times with his mother. But that won’t help. It never does. “I won’t apologize for something that I… that I don’t regret.” 

“I know.” He smiled. “I stopped expecting an apology a long time ago. All I wanted from this was for you to let me explain. I needed to know that you understand that this is it. We’re not friends. We’re not anything, not anymore.” He settled back in the chair, rolling out his shoulders. “Not that you care, but … I’m actually kind of glad the Lapis happened. It was the push I needed.” 

“With me?” 

“No, not with you. With her.” Not everything is about you. “But I don’t need to tell you this, I need to tell Scully, so…” Say goodbye. “So if you’ve got nothing to say, then I’m good, because the sooner we finish this debriefing and I get out of here, the better.” 

He wondered if she’d say anything - wondered if the woman would respond to what he’d laid out. But the look in her eyes didn’t change, and when Teresa stood, reaching for her bag, Marcus knew that it didn’t really matter. It never did. It never should have. She fidgeted for a few seconds, the woman’s frown deepening and her jaw working like she wanted to say something. 

But she didn’t, letting out a breath and then turning toward the door. Teresa paused with her hand on the doorknob, turning to look back at him. “I have a daughter, Marcus. Patrick and I, we…” He felt nothing at the admission, though he thought back to his last conversation with the other man - when he’d asked what Patrick was offering Teresa in the future. Good for you. “I could never regret her.” 

“I wouldn’t want you to. Congratulations.” He fell silent, watching as Teresa bit her lip and curled her fingers into a loose fist before relaxing it. 

“I… goodbye, Marcus.” She opened the door and then walked through it, pulling it shut behind her. Once he was alone in the empty room, he let this breath out in a rush, covering his face with both hands. The only thing he felt was relief, a weight finally lifted off of his shoulders. It’s done. It’s over. 

A knock at the door startled him, Marcus’ head shooting up as you peeked your head in, a soft smile on your lips. Let’s start over. “Marcus?”

“Sorry, nobody in here but the FBI’s most unwanted.” He kept a straight face but you didn’t, the smile turning into a grin as you stepped fully into the room, making your way over to where he sat. 

“Unwanted? What do I have to do to change your mind about that?” Stopping as you reached him, you took a shallow breath. “You alright?” 

“I’m great.” Tilting his chin up, he nodded, . “I’ve been waiting for that for a long time.” You murmured the word good back at him and then settled back into the chair you’d vacated, angling it to face him. “But I’ve also been waiting for this.” 

“For what?” Narrowing your eyes, you bit your lip. “A -”

“Will you have dinner with me tonight?” Scooting closer, he reached for your hand, letting his fingers trail over your knuckles.  “I’ve got some unexpected time off of work, so we can make it a late one…” 

“Yeah.” The smile was back, your eyes lighting up as you leaned in, your lips pressing against his for a split second. “Yeah, I’d like that. A lot.”

— 

Thank you again for reading.  Tag list reblog coming soon. 

[commiegoth]

Interview with nonbinary trans author Kate Bornstein, promoting her book Gender Outlaw (Mondo 2000 #13, 1995)

Full text under cut

I‘m walking down 16th Street minding my own business. This good looking woman is coming toward me. She's got on baggy unbuttoned overalls and an orange tank top. Her arms look good, her shoulders look good, and what I can see of her stomach looks good. Two guys are standing on the sidewalk. As she passes them, one says to the other, “I'd like to take that one home.” The other guy agrees. The woman keeps walking. Now it's my turn to pass 'em. “I'd like to take that one home and knock A her around a little bit,” the first guy says. I keep walking. The other guy answers. “That's a her?”

But enough about me. This is supposed to be about Kate Bornstein who wants you to read her new book Gender Outlaw. Bornstein used to be a man; now she’s not. Bornstein used to be a heterosexual; now she isn't. Bornstein used to have a dick; now she doesn’t.

She’s a “used-to-be-a-man, three husbands, father, first mate on an ocean-going yacht, minister, high-powered IBM sales type, Pierre Cardin three-piece suitor, bar-mitzvah’d, circumcised yuppie from the East Coast… a used-to-be politically correct, wanna-be butch, dyke phone sex hostess, smooth talking, telemarketing, love slave, art slut, pagan Tarot reader, maybe soon a grandmother, crystal palming, incense burning, not man, not always a woman, fast becoming a Marxist.”

All that’s not what makes her an outlaw. What makes her an outlaw is she sees a time when folks will look at the binary gender system and throw back their heads and laugh— ha ha ha. Males and females and that’s it? Ha ha ha. Get the fuck outta here.

Bornstein’s looking forward to us all living in what author Marjorie Garber (Vested Interests, Routledge) calls the Third Space. “This whole concept of three is so beautiful,” Kate says, “because it includes the first two. I don’t say there’s a third space that exists between men and women. I say there’s a third space outside of the Binary which leaves the Binary as this construct off to the side, very fragile and apt to fall apart.”

If I were a man, everything about me that brings me grief in the world—the way | walk, the way I talk, the way I think, the way | stand, the way I sit, the way I dress, the way | cut my hair, how much I weigh, how much weight I lift—would not only be acceptable, it would be revered. If we lived in the Third Space, it wouldn't even matter.

Bornstein had to learn a lot of rules in order to fit in. Like when a man walks down the street he looks people in the eye; when a woman walks down the street she looks at the ground. And women talk different. They have higher, breathier voices and their speech is more modulated. In mixed conversations, it’s the woman's job to laugh at the bad jokes and fill in the awkward silences. They smile constantly while they’re talking and use tag questions to qualify sentences, like “you know what I mean?”

“All of these customs are forms of self-deprecation,” says Bornstein, “like learning how to keep my knees together and not putting my arm across the back of my seat in the subway train. A lot of that was not so much to be a woman as to pass as a woman, so that I wouldn't call attention to myself.”

If we lived in the Third Space, she wouldn't have had to worry. In fact, if we lived in the Third Space, she might not even have had penile conversion surgery.

“I don’t do well with might-have-beens,” she says. “I resent that I was manipulated into that surgery by every signpost in the culture. I was not aware of other possibilities at the time. I was a total subscriber to the Binary and to the genitals by which it stands.

“I knew I wasn’t BOY, I knew I wasn’t MAN. Neither of those categories fit for me. It didn’t feel right, I have no idea why. I tried for thirty some odd years and it didn’t work. The only other option I saw in the culture was GIRL, or WOMAN. Nowhere did I see that it was okay to be a “real woman”—which I believed in—with a penis! So the next step was get rid of the penis. This insistence on the Binary and the genital imperative that signals the Binary coerced me into that. If I knew everything that I know now, would I do it again? Yes. Absolutely yes, because sex is so much more fun now.”

Back to this idea of the Third Space, how do we get there?

“Cyberspace would be a doorway into the Third Space,” according to Bornstein. “Cyberspace frees us up from the restrictions placed on identity by our bodies. It allows us to explore more kinds of relationships.

“I can go online as anything. I go online as various kinds of women. I've gone online as a guy a couple of times; I’m playing a stable boy in a vampire scenario now. I’ve gone online as different monsters. I’ve gone online as Mr. Spock in a ‘Star Trek’ scenario.

“Cross-gender identity surfing online is so telling: Men slum and women step into the trappings of power as men. You talk to a man after he’s been a woman online and he'll usually laugh and describe some kind of sex he had, usually lesbian sex. But you talk to a woman who's been surfing as a man, there’s this spark there. There’s this wonder. There's this—'They really do have this power!’ As soon as men cop to the idea that women are learning this, they’re gonna be more frightened.”

Bingo.

In Gender Outlaw, Bornstein asks: “If wealth and power are important, and if in this world wealth and power belong to men, then why did I cease being a man and give up that wealth and power?"

Some male-to-female transsexuals argue—often in response to being excluded from women-born-women only clubs—that they didn’t have a real male experience because they were never real males. Bornstein’s not buying it. “I had a bona fide male experience—of course I did. I’ve been bar-mitzvah’d. I hated it. Being male and hating it sets up a fugue experience. It’s definitely a form of madness. | think one way of dealing with the madness is to say it never really happened. That’s a legitimate way of dealing with it, but the fact of the matter is, I spent over thirty years of my life as a man or boy. I did not like it. I hated it. I drank a lot. I did a lot of drugs. I played a lot of arcade games.”

Once you've altered your gender, it’s gotta seem like anything’s possible. The whole world must open up. Does that mean that transgender stuff is the final frontier? Bornstein doesn’t think so.

She believes that once people get a grip on the idea of the Third Space, and transgender stuff becomes passé, we're probably gonna have to look at other binary divisions. “What are the differences between animals and humans? What are the differences between plants and animals? What about artificial intelligence, androids like Data from “Star Trek?” They're gonna be around. | think the gender binary is the one most firmly entrenched in our culture simply because it’s the one that capitalism trades on the most, other than class. We haven't confronted class. A minor communist uprising in Eastern Europe is not dealing with class. Certainly, the United States has never dealt with class. I think the fact that my book actually got published by a respectable publisher is an indicator that the culture is ready to chew on gender, whereas I don’t think the American culture is as ready to chew on class.

“I'd say gender is the last apparent frontier. It’s the frontier that’s just become illuminated. It’s titillating. In public relations terms it’s sexy. In sex terms it’s sexy. It’s a movement, a real live movement—ready or not, here we come!”

Meanwhile, back on 16th Street.

I take a few more steps, then my brain turns over and I say to myself, “Fuck this shit.”

I stop, turn around, walk back, and stand in front of the first guy. “You say something to me?”

He’s shocked. He starts stuttering and shaking his head.

“Uh…uh…no…I was just…I mean…he was just…I mean…he wanted to know—"

I interrupt him.

“Something about knocking somebody around?”

He starts stuttering again.

“Uh…no…uh, I was just… I mean, he just… I mean, I was just saying—"

I interrupt him again.

“You know what it sounded like you said? It sounded like you said you wanted to suck my dick.”

“Uh…uh… your dick?” He looks at my crotch to see if I have one.

(I do, but it’s back at my apartment.)

“Yeah,” I say, “that’s what it sounded like you said. I think you want to suck my dick, don't you?”

He looks at my crotch again, then he looks back at my face. He grins, still stuttering.

Uh...well...I, I, I... I wouldn't mind.”

“That's what I thought,” I say, and walk away.

For an almost complete collection of Bornsteiniana, start with Gender Outlaw (Routledge), go directly to The Last Sex, Arthur and Mary-Louise Kroker (St. Martins Press), and keep an eye out for performances of Hidden: A Gender and Virtually Yours. The unsatisfied can obsessively watch for guest appearances on Geraldo.

[sanityshorror]

the julius redraw of my beloved patrick led to julius becoming my other beloved. they're both so.....😍*chef's kiss* 💋could you please write a scenario about these two pretty boy psychos meeting each other for the first time? thank you❤️

Awe thank you so much, I'm glad you love Julius! I put so much work into him and I'm working on soooo many projects about him 👀 As for the scenario, I apologize but I really don't have time and I don't write fanfiction involving my own characters (I created Julius, to be clear; he's my character 😭) BUT I can tell you my silly HCs of if somehow their different universes collided and they met!

Given Patrick's personality and knowing Julius' like the back of my hand, unfortunately I do not see any sort of friendship ever forming between the two. Neither of the men are prone to form a genuine bond with anyone. Now, I can confirm that there are a few exceptions for Julius but it's very, very, very few. As for Patrick, it's up to one's interpretation of if he can/does form a true bond, I personally interpret him to be similar to Julius: no, with extremely rare exceptions.

While I do not see a genuine bond being able to form between the two, I absolutely do see them both as having a mutually beneficial fake-friendship. They're both east coast, coked up, sex addicted, rich white men who lead double/multiple lives and are deceptive as all hell. They both are also very obsessive over image, appearance and social status/perception. Now what I absolutely do believe would happen is Patrick forming an obsessive infatuation but intense jealousy towards Julius due to multiple reasons.

I'll explain:

Julius was born in a working class family during the Victorian era who immigrated to America and became a mainly self made multi-billionaire (being married to the Boss of the Boston Irish Mob brings in a lot of money on top of his own very successful business). Patrick on the other hand, despite being born into wealth still doesn't hold a candle to Julius' riches. Patrick may own a Manhattan penthouse but Julius could buy the entire building if he wanted to, and without batting an eye at the price tag given the multi-millions that roll in weekly for him.

That brings me to another reason: sheer status and power. Julius is so elite that brand names mean nothing to him and he sees brand names as something for the poor. Julius owns a very popular, top of the line, extremely expensive dress shop and boutique. Everything is hand made by him (he doesn't even use sewing machines), one of a kind and the man is talented. His shop is so revered you need an appointment just to get in and people will save up for years and fly across the country, even across the ocean to get a dress. (Of course, only the lucky actually leave the shop....) Basically, Julius' wealth and god like status (he can literally have anything he wants, whenever he wants and gets endless attention) is something Patrick would, though be very jealous of, lead Patrick to suck up to Julius. Our boy Patrick would set his homophobia aside in a second if it meant being seen going into Doherty's Dress Shop without needing an appointment.

Julius would look down on Patrick. He would find him annoying and pathetic. However Julius loves attention and loves people sucking up to him (and loves cocaine-murder buddies) so he probably wouldn't kill Patrick as long as Patrick played his cards right and didn't challenge him. I see Julius using Patrick as a verbal punching bag and forcing him to smuggle drugs and traffic humans and other shit, and probably also just make him do degrading things like "I'll let you enter my store wherever you want if you suck my boot until you jizz in your pants hahahaha nasty bitch" just for shits and giggles. And Patrick probably would because oh that sweet sweet sweet status.

Julius also would make fun of Patrick for being 'short and fat'. Patrick is said to be 6'0 and 190lbs whereas Julius, who is anorexic, stands at 6'5 (in the human leather boots he always wears, he's 6'2 without them) and horrific mere 135lbs (please seek help if you struggle with eating, you deserve it/gen). I think they would both feed into each other's body issues and obsession with perfection.

It would be interesting to see them meet, I must admit that lol.

[andiwriteordie]

congrats on 1,500! ✨

For the prompt: how about something on Joyce's feelings on established (new or not) Byler? Just how she feels finally being able to see her boy happy (and with the boy who has been his side since forever)~

ahhh thank you so so much!!! ❤️

oh i love love love this prompt so much! here you go!

no matter how long it takes 

Will is late to breakfast, and absolutely no one is surprised.

“Do they think that we do not know?” El asks curiously, her mouth stuffed full of Eggo waffles. The food in her daughter’s mouth makes it a little difficult for Joyce to understand what she’s saying, but she gets the basic gist.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, kid,” Hop scolds, nudging their daughter’s shoulder. “Jesus, who raised you?”

El just makes a face back at him, and Joyce shakes her head, taking a sip of water. “I don’t think they know that we know,” she chuckles. “Jonathan didn’t, back when he and Nancy did the same thing.”

Her eldest kid groans, giving her an exasperated look. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“Sweetheart, you came downstairs with lipstick on your cheek,” Joyce says with a smirk. “And you still had poor Nancy climb out the window. How stupid do you think I am?”

Jonathan just rolls his eyes, and he picks up a slice of bacon, munching on it absently. “I tried telling Will that you somehow know everything,” he remarks. “So, maybe he knows that we know.”

Hopper hums, taking a sip of his coffee and looking back up. “Nope,” he says, and he shakes his head. “I heard Mike scrambling to hide when I woke the two of them up.”

“Idiots,” El deadpans. “And what happened to the three inch rule?”

“Don’t worry,” Hop reassures. “I’m just biding my time. It’s fun to see Wheeler sweat a little bit.”

“You’re evil,” Joyce deadpans, shoving her husband’s shoulder lightly. Hopper just gives her a crooked little grin, and Joyce shakes her head, glancing back towards the staircase. 

It’s funny how much their lives have changed in the past several months. Honestly, Joyce’s life has been a rollercoaster of change since that fateful day back in 1983 when her boy was kidnapped, and she’s only just now starting to feel a semblance of normalcy return to their lives. It’s… nice. It’s really, really nice.

Because all of them are happy. She and Jim have been married for a couple months now. The wedding was a small affair—just a nice courthouse wedding in Indy with a reception for their little group of Upside Down survivors. Jonathan and Nancy are still together and planning to go off to the East Coast this coming fall for college. El is happy too—single for now, though Joyce thinks there might be something between her daughter, Max, and Lucas. She still needs to find out more about that, but either way, as long as El is happy, Joyce is too.

And then there’s Will.

Her boy is happier than he has been in years, and God, it brings such a warmth and a joy to Joyce’s heart. She still remembers sitting with Will back at their old home—the one haunted by harsh words and beatings from Lonnie, the one scarred by monsters tearing through their walls and separated the two of them, the one torn apart by horrors that threatened to consume her youngest son. She remembers a warm summer day in particular when Jonathan had stumbled downstairs, his tie crooked and his face marked with Nancy Wheeler’s lipstick.

She remembers Will’s words that day.

“I’m not… gonna fall in love.”

Joyce hadn’t said it back then, but she’d known. She knows her kids, and even though Will hadn’t been ready to tell her yet, Joyce had already known the truth.

“I’m not… gonna fall in love,” her sweet, quiet son had said, when he already was.

A lot has changed since that day, and thank God for that. It’d take Joyce forever to explain how much things have changed, but she thinks one of her most favorite changes is the shift in Will’s demeanor from a sad, resigned belief that love wasn’t for people like him to a happy, silly, and lovesick attitude that follows him around all the time.

Will is happy, and he’s in love with his best friend, Mike Wheeler.

And to Joyce’s delight, Mike Wheeler is just as happy, and he’s just as in love with Joyce’s boy.

So, when Will stumbles downstairs, wearing a hoodie that Joyce knows doesn’t belong to him, with his hair ruffled like someone’s been running their hands through it, and his cheeks flushed bright red, she can’t help but smile. Her family holds back their snickers as Will takes his seat at the table, and Joyce just smiles at her son.

“Morning, baby,” she greets, and Will looks up, meeting her eyes. 

“Morning, Mom,” he says, a small smile on his face. “Sorry, I… uh… I overslept.”

“Mhm.” Joyce nods, and she gestures to the plate of food sitting in the middle of the table. “Well, there’s still plenty left to eat if you’re hungry.”

She pauses, glancing at the front door and considering her options for a moment. 

And well… it’s not fair to only tease Jonathan, right?

“There’s enough for Mike too,” Joyce adds with a grin, and she fights her laughter as Will nearly chokes on the piece of toast he’d started to eat. “You know… if you wanna run outside and catch him before he leaves.”

Her boy’s face gets bright red, and beside him, both El and Jonathan snicker, nudging him teasingly. “Mom,” Will starts to say, and Joyce just raises an eyebrow. 

Will deflates, and he covers his face with his hands, clearly embarrassed. “You’re sure it’s okay?”

“Oh, just go get your boyfriend, kid,” Hopper chuckles, and he gives Will an amused look. “We all know he’s probably climbing out the window and running away as we speak.”

As Will groans again, Joyce just laughs, smiling at her son. “Hop’s right,” she agrees. “Come on. Mike’s part of the family. Now go catch him before he leaves!”

Will lowers his hands, and for a brief moment, he looks up at Joyce, meeting her eyes. There’s something in his eyes that warms Joyce’s heart—a tentative yet hopeful and relieved look. 

For a moment, Joyce remembers the fourteen year-old who once sat next to her at the kitchen table, pouring syrup all over his eggs. She remembers how her boy had barely been able to meet her eyes, how quiet and dejected he’d sounded that day, and how badly she wanted to fix this for him.

A lot has changed since then, and Joyce thinks Will knows it too.

An understanding passes between the two of them, and Will just smiles. “Thanks, Mom,” he whispers.

Then, as quickly as he can, Will hurries to the door, running outside in hopes of catching up to his boyfriend, and Joyce just smiles.

A lot has changed over the past several years.

And for the first time in a long, long time, Joyce and her family are happy.

[mrschwartz]

Alex Turner opens up about The Car, Arctic Monkeys' 20th anniversary album

The frontman of the British band that performs at Primavera Sound, in São Paulo, invests in more abstract lyrics in new album

Published October 16 2022, by Rodrigo Salem

Alex Turner is not satisfied with the lighting in the room chosen as the setting for our interview. It's a small, cozy hipster hotel in the Los Feliz neighborhood of Los Angeles, one of those above a cafe with tables occupied by young people at the computer, and no lines at cash registers that don't accept cash.

The frontman of Arctic Monkeys, the biggest rock band to come out of the UK in the last 20 years, flips the switches until he finds the perfect balance of light. "Is this okay for you?" he asks, but doesn't seem to care too much about the answer.

Turner likes to have complete control over his environment. "Where do you want to sit? This will be the best place, right?" he asks, coffee in hand, already standing in front of a small beige table below the lamp that insisted on not emanating the adequate light.

Shy to the point of never completing a full sentence, as if his mouth didn't keep up with his fast brain, Turner is acutely aware of his obsession with control and attention to detail, something that has only grown bigger in the last few years at the helm of the band. But the singer, guitarist and songwriter lived something different in the creation of The Car, the group's seventh album, which will be released worldwide this week.

After composing the piano demos alone for much of the pandemic, he was reunited with the rest of the band over the summer of last year, in a secluded house that was part of a 12th-century monastery in Suffolk, on the east coast of England.

"We hadn't done that since the first album. I had extra film rolls and I took my 16mm camera to film everything and keep myself busy during the recording. At first, I just wanted to record the memory, but it seemed to help in the work environment, because I stepped out of the process a bit and gave everyone more space," he says.

"James [Ford, record producer] was delighted, because I wasn't looking over his shoulder all the time and being a twat."

The musician's hobby as a filmmaker was not the only novelty in the three weeks of work in the makeshift studio, complete with a piano borrowed from a resident there and the technological arsenal brought in from London. The period was essential for Arctic Monkeys to remember that they are still a rock group formed by friends.

"We had a lot of laughs and watched the Euro Cup together. It was important to have that band energy again," says Turner, revealing that Body Paint, The Car's latest single, only took its final form because of this camaraderie. "The distorted guitar at the end just came about because I wanted to do that solo with them. It sounds obvious, but being together changes the dynamics of how I play."

Ironically, the album's main theme seems to circle around characters that don't seem to fit the environment they're in. In Body Paint itself, which wouldn't be out of place in one of George Martin's orchestrated productions for The Beatles, Turner sings that he's "keeping on [his] costume and calling it a writing tool."

Jet Skis On The Moat, played on a sultry guitar and with a broken rhythm reminiscent of U2's The Playboy Mansion, brings a Hollywood psychedelic mood—"jet skis on the moat / they filmed everything in CinemaScope, but this is the last time you will ride them, though".

"I was imagining this perception of us living like rock stars in a fantasy castle on a mountain, riding jet skis, disconnected from everything," says Turner.

In I Ain't Quite Where I Think I Am, he seems to describe a strange trip on a luxury yacht off the coast of France, a country where he usually goes with his girlfriend, French singer Louise Verneuil, since he moved back to England from Los Angeles. "I spend less time here, but I love this city. It's where I have my friends," he says.

Extremely protective of his privacy, Alex Turner does not confirm any theories that could refer to his life beyond music. However, he admits that feeling like a fish out of water is one of the themes of the record. "I've definitely written this time about someone who doesn't fit in," he says as he pulls out of his green jacket two folded sheets of paper filled with his lyrics and assorted notes.

I question the reason for keeping this material around and the singer lets his guard down. "I think that this way I can have these conversations more easily, and stay on the same level as other people. You've read the lyrics, listened to the record, and I thought I should do the same to meet you in the middle," he says, soon bringing back up his good-humored defenses. "And it also serves to intimidate people."

Not that he seems to want to intimidate anyone. Turner can barely look up, more concerned with focusing on some object and finding the right words for his answers. Keeping the lyrics in your pocket serves to rediscover the words of the songs.

One of the most brilliant songwriters of modern British rock and someone who has managed to portray the yearnings and feelings of an entire millennial generation, he says his lyrics come out of the space between the conscious and the unconscious.

In The Car, they seem even more abstract. "I love leaving space for lyrics not to be fully understood and to become more interesting as the years go by. I like to explore things that are difficult to talk about."

Does that mean that Alex Turner, who, two decades ago, rehearsed in a garage with Jamie Cook on guitar, Andy Nicholson on bass, later replaced by Nick O'Malley, and Matt Helders on drums, in Sheffield, is finally noticing the inevitable passage of time?

"Funny, it's hard to accept that it's been 20 years," he says. "But we're alive and active. That happens a lot when I'm singing the old songs now. I remember something, not necessarily the lyrics, but the environment, a person and the sensations of the past."

A rich past, we must add. Arctic Monkeys have gone through several phases in these two decades. It began with the confessional hip-hop-enamored rock of the first two albums, a formula that propelled the group into the stratosphere of fame. It gained weight with the stoner rock of Josh Homme of Queens of the Stone Age on 2009's Humbug and the stadium hard rock of 2013's AM. And it culminated in the journey away from Earth in 2018's jazzy Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino.

The Car continues the sonic exploration of their previous work, but brings guitars back to the songs and a Turner interested in using his voice as an instrument. "I don't know if Alex from 20 years ago would like this sound," he wonders. "Secretly, I wanted something along those lines then, but it wasn't within my reach at the time. On second thought, I think he would like it. But if he wouldn't like it, then fuck it," he jokes.

He admits that he changed his way of looking at music and even composing. On previous albums, he wrote the lyrics and then thought of the melody. The music now comes first.

"I made an effort to put the lyrics in sync with a melody that gives me permission to use certain words," says the musician. "I didn't focus on that in the past, I think it started on AM, when I started to change the lyrics as I was influenced by the sound in the studio."

Back on stage since a few weeks ago, Turner believes the pandemic has changed the relationship between band and audience. "The first time we performed was powerful," he says. "There's a new energy that encourages me. I'm trying not to behave the same way on stage. I think some of that comes from the younger crowd."

Brazil is going to feel this in a few days. Arctic Monkeys closes the first day of Primavera Sound, in São Paulo, on November 5th, already oiling the show with a new repertoire. "When we arrive in Brazil, I want to test two new songs and leave some old ones behind," says the singer, who already says that the next album may come out faster than expected after the long gestation of The Car.

Unable to play shows, the group spent a year polishing up the album in post-production. "We had more time to work on the record and I like to think that this had a positive influence on the final result, as we had more space to hone, think and fight for certain ideas", says Turner. "I love the idea of doing something different, like writing, recording and releasing in a week. Maybe it's a fun idea for the next project."

[imaginedreamwrite]

Hello, I want to share this idea with you that I had from the Turkish TV show... I don't if you know about Turkish soaps...

So, reader is District Attorney’s daughter and Steve is the son of the mafia/mob.. they’re both artists and met in same art school. They started with love hate kinda relationship, then some mutual pining but they still can't tell each other they’re in love because its forbidden. They’re from two different worlds and in love. Steve doesn't have any criminal record YET but he's still a mob's son...

I'm just sharing it with you, if you want to write a one shot perhaps turn it into a series... whatever... or maybe you won't consider giving it shot.. that's okay...

Thankyou for providing a safe space for everybody and let me share it with you...❤

Bad For Me

It’s immaculate, the dark walls that are encompassed by rich gold trim around the baseboards and crown moulding. There’s a oversized chandelier hanging above the bed with teardrop crystals and the same gold trim that surrounds the room, the base of the chandelier that holds it against the ceiling is carved and etched metal that mirrors the sconces on the wall.

The bed is an Alaskan king, the size would have seemed almost outlandish if the room was smaller, but as it is the bedroom is as expansive as you would have imagined.

The bed is made of sturdy wood, dark to match the colour of the paint, with a curved headboard that rests high against the wall, almost like the back of a throne, and there’s two distinct round studded holes that you can only imagine would be for your restraints. There is a section of padded material to keep you from injuring your head should you throw yourself against it.

The rest of the room is as breathtaking and stunning to match, across from the bed is a fireplace that’s still burning leftover logs. There are walk-in closets set against the right half of the room, both are placed precisely between two floor to ceiling mirrors. Across from the closets is the ensuite bathroom with the shower and bathtub placated flush against each other a design, he had claimed, was to bring an air of intimacy to the relationship.

And to finish off the room, there was a chaise set before the windows, the furniture designed to be the focal point for his artwork. He had claimed, again, that it was meant for intimacy.

“And I will be drawing and sketching you.” He promised you that everything in the room would come to good use.

The heavy door opened and his footsteps were heard on the hardwood floor. You had stood before the windows, glancing out at the property below, so entranced by the prospect of escaping.

“There is no running from me.” His voice had hit your ears, the scent of his cologne invaded your senses and you had wished you hated it more. “Why so somber, my wife?”

He was the son of a ruthless Don, and you were the daughter of the district attorney. He was attending art school where you had taken a few classes, your main focus was classical and contemporary dance while he was dabbling in sketching, drawing and painting.

You didn’t know who he was, he had only ever given you his middle name but he knew who you were. He had you figured out on day one, and you knew you should have left his presence before he got in too deep.

It was your fault, it was your fault that you were here.

“Steve please don’t do this.” You begged him, you pleaded with him to let you go. “Choose someone else, anyone else.”

“You know the tradition of bride kidnapping?” He brushed your hair off your shoulder, his large hands had come to rest on your waist as his lips met your jaw.

“You could have anyone else-“

“The groom snatches the woman he wants as his bride to save her from any other suitors. It’s most common in other parts of the world, but its a practice that suits me well.” He was possessive yet tender, kissing your neck as he pulled you back flush against him.

“You’re the most dangerous man on the east coast, you could have-“ you stopped breathing, negating your reaction to his fingers tugging on the silk tie that held your robe around you.

“I know what I am,” he hummed, his cock twitching against your ass, “I know what I want. I know who I want, that’s why I had to take you.”

“We met at school, we didn’t-“

“I know how you felt about me. Before you knew what I was, we had gone on a date. We had fun and you let me taste you. Did you really think-“ Steve groaned in your ear, hands running up your abdomen to your bare breasts.

“-I could handle just one taste?” Steve’s hands grasped your breasts, his fingers squeezing as you moaned and pliantly pushed back into him. “You are not the kind of woman who only requires one taste.”

“Please…” you whined, cratering with your willpower. “Steve…”

“Yes, Mrs. Rogers.” He nipped your neck and let go of your breasts only to sweep you into his arms and take you back toward the bed. “I will feast on your sweet pussy again. But…”

Steve leaned back and looked down at you, your chest heaving and your legs spreading to reveal the dampness of your thighs.

“I think its time,” Steve pulled you up and switched positions with you, this time it was him laying back on the bed, “you ride my face.”

“Steve I-I can’t…I’ve never-“

“Yes, darling wife.” He snatched your wrist and pulled you forward, dragging you until you had sat on his chest. “Don’t leave your husband starving. Ride my face.”

He settled his hands on your hips and dragged your forward until you hovered above him. “Don’t hold back, fuck yourself on my tongue.”

[starsandsunkissed]

Take Two (Part 1/6)

Summary: After a tragic car accident, Michaela Bolaca is uprooted from her home on the East Coast and moved to South Park, Colorado, to live with her maternal aunt's family, the Blacks. But being the New Kid is rough at the best of times in the best of places. In South Park? Well, as long as she keeps her head down, she should be fine...right?

Starts a few weeks before season 7, episode 1. First Person POV.

~•~

My name's Michaela. I'm eight years old, and I just moved to South Park. My aunt, uncle and cousin live here, and now I do too. I visited once or twice before but I was too young to really remember it. Now that I've been here for a few weeks, it's official: I hate it here.

There's no one besides me and my family that are black, everyone looked at me funny all day when I was out exploring the town, and I just want to go back home.

But I can't.

"There you are Michaela!" said Aunt Linda when she opened the front door, bending down to hug me. "Oh, we were worried sick about you!"

"I'm sorry," I said.

"I know things have been hard since you've lost...well, but you can't just stay out late on a whim."

You can say it Aunt Lin, it's not like I don't already know.

"I'm sorry," I said again instead. What else was I supposed to say? It's not like I was the only one to lose someone; Mom is—was her sister.

"Are you hungry sweetie?" she asked as she guided me inside.

I shook my head.

"Alright," she said. "Your uncle Steve and I have finished the enrolment paperwork so you'll be starting school on Monday, okay? The doctors say that the injuries from the crash are all healed up so you should be okay."

I nodded, and with that I was sent up to my room.

Once I settled in I was finally able to check myself in the vanity mirror. My skin looked okay. My afro hair was still in good shape, if a little shrunken in their pigtails. I wanted a hat, though. I got enough comments about my hair, it being blonde and all. It was easier to have it covered than to deal with the 'You dyed your hair' accusations because of its uncommon color.

I lifted up my mattress to reveal the journal that I'd been keeping since before my recovery. It still hurt to look at the entries before...before.

I blinked back tears as I sat on the bed.

Everything hurt.

Why couldn't everything go back to normal? Why couldn't that drunk driver hit some other car? Why couldn't he have died instead of my mom and dad?

I gritted my teeth and swallowed, sniffing as I tossed the journal aside and dove under the covers. Crying wouldn't bring my parents back.

I was just going to have to find a way to deal.

~•~

Take Two, Part 2/6: https://www.tumblr.com/starsandsunkissed/745256412778774528/take-two-chapter-1-starsandsunkissed-south?source=share

~•~

[wonderlandleighleigh]

A follow-up to this

"That cannot possibly be him."

Ella takes a breath as she and Lane step into the little coffee shop near her apartment. It's actually really cool; it feels like stepping back into the 1930's. It's decor is deeply retro.

But Lane isn't paying much attention to the art deco style. Her eyes are trained on the boy sitting at the back of the shop with overgrown hair and a bushy beard.

"I did mention he burnt out really fast in California, right?" Ella offers.

"You did, but I didn't realize the burnout included looking like a mountain man," Lane hisses. She sighs. "He's really that bad?"

"He's not great," Ella responds. "Look, I know you guys left things on weird terms, but give him a chance. As a guitarist. And...maybe as a friend?"

Lane steels herself, standing a little taller and nodding. "Okay. Friend. Guitarist. Guitarist. Friend. That's a better order."

Ella nods as well and leads her back to the table, where Dave is nursing a large coffee. He looks up, and his eyes widen, bringing him quickly and clumsily to his feet.

"Lane."

"Dave," she responds, crossing her arms.

"Hi."

"Hi."

"Great start," Ella grins. "Lane, what's your coffee order?"

"Oh," she says, blinking. "I uh...I usually just have what Luke makes."

"Latte?" Ella offers. "They're really good here."

Lane thinks about that for a moment. About how angry her mother would be about her drinking all that caffeine and sugar.

"A latte sounds great. Vanilla?"

Ella smiles. "I'm on it." She turns to another table and waves for the young man sitting there, who has his head behind a book. He can only be Jess. "Come get coffee with me."

"I drank mine," he responds without setting the book down.

"Keep me company and maybe I'll give you a handjob later," Ella tells him.

The book lowers slowly. "It's not a terrible offer," he responds as he gets to his feet.

"I'm aware."

Lane watches them go before turning back to Dave. They both sit slowly.

"That's weird," she comments.

"So is everything these days," Dave mutters sullenly.

"So...I wish I'd known you were back on the east coast," Lane tells him.

"Why?" Dave asks. "I broke up with you."

"Well, yeah, but..." she shrugs. "I still cared. I would have tried to help."

He watches her for a long, quiet moment. "You really would have, wouldn't you?"

"Why wouldn't I?" Lane asks.

"Because I broke up with you," he repeats. "Over the phone. Like an ass."

"I dated Zach," she comments. "I now have a new, higher bar for assery."

Dave wrinkles his nose. "Zach?"

"Yep. Big mistake."

"I'm sorry," he offers. "That it didn't turn out how you hoped."

"Well, I've learned my lesson," Lane says. "About dating guitar players."

"Yeah, I...I guess you have," Dave nods sadly. "I'm really sorry I was one of those lessons."

Lane gives him a gentle smile. It's a nice apology, to be honest. More than she expected. "I appreciate that."

"So. Ella wants us both to be in her band," he says. "Do you uh...do you think we could do that? You know. Be exes and bandmates?"

"On one condition," she says.

Dave lifts an eyebrow.

"For the love of god, shave," Lane orders.

He laughs; really laughs. He's not sure when the last time he did that was. "You have a deal, Miss Kim."

She smiles. "Then, Mr. Rygalski. I guess we're bandmates."

"Oh, yay, you're smiling and laughing!" Ella cries as she rushes back over with Jess and everyone's coffees. "Does that mean we're a go?"

Lane nods. "We're a go."

[depressedhouseplant]

🔞 AU Concepts 🔞

‼️These are NOT to be used without my permission. If you’d like to use one please DM me or comment & also credit me for use of the concept. This includes changing the fandom / ship ‼️

* Boys of Summer (Namjin):

Every year, Jin sees the same boy come to his oceanside hometown. Every year, he also looks miserable. Determined to give him at least one good summer, Jin discovers exactly why the boy never smiles

* Bang, You’re Dead (Yoonminseok):

When line cook Yoongi witnesses a gang assassination behind his restaurant, he’s given a protective detail. Detectives Jimin and Hoseok have never liked each other and now they’re stuck watching the same witness 24/7

* Hellhound (Yoonminseok):

Hoseok and Jimin have been dating for several months. However, Jimin has yet to spend the night. Why? Because he isn’t human. They consult a mint haired witch to reverse Jimin’s curse

* Watch It Burn (Bbangju):

Alpha King Juyeon has everything - a beautiful Omega Queen and a pup on the way. When Younghoon is kidnapped, Juyeon will burn down the kingdom to get him back

* Idolatry (Milsun):

Idols Sunwoo and Hyunjae have constantly crossed paths since debut. After a one night stand in Paris, one of them realizes his feelings are more than lust

* Mortal Fools (Taejoon):

Namjoon has always dreamed of becoming a mainstream rapper. When he gets his big break, he’s forced to leave his boyfriend Taehyung behind. When he returns for a break, the boy he loved is a man he doesn’t recognize

* Something Wicked (JiHope):

Prince Jimin has a blood witch wreaking havoc on his province. His only hope is water witch Hoseok. Who happens to be his ex-betrothed

* Ivory Sun (SOPE):

Sun God Hoseok doesn’t think much about his job. He brings the sunlight. One winter he notices messages and art in the snow. He meets Winter God Yoongi and realizes their paths can never truly cross

* Moonshine Nation (BTS Rap Line):

Namjoon runs the largest bootleg operation on the east coast. His 2 lieutenants Yoongi and Hoseok owe him their lives. In return he hides their true relationship - lovers

* Demonology (JiHope):

Before an archangel and a horseman were bound, there was a demon who desired an angel and would have him no matter the cost (prequel to Wings of War)

* Wings of War (Taejoon):

Taehyung in an Archangel. Namjoon is a Horseman of the Apocalypse. When Taehyung heals him in the mortal realm, the two are bound together permanently.

(I actually started writing this fic but then hit the wall)

* Broken (SOPE):

After a car accident Hoseok is put in a coma. His boyfriend Yoongi can only hope his words get through

* You’re My Light (2seok):

Hoseok and Jin are 2 high powered men with wives to match. Jin has never wanted anyone, including his wife, until he meets Hoseok. Hoseok is happy to meet Jin’s needs. How long will their secret keep?

* Eternal Hearts (Minjoon)

Cursed by a witch with eternal life, Jimin has lived a solitary existence for hundreds of years. Then an adventurous trick or treater is dared to approach his home. When he opens the door, he sees someone he thought he lost centuries ago

* Best Man (Jakehoon):

“I’m getting married,”

Those three words felt like the end of Jake’s world. His best friend, who he was also hopelessly in love with, Park Sunghoon, was engaged to someone else.

(This is omegaverse)

* Smoke and Shadows (Sunkyu):

Kim Sunwoo is a serial sugar baby. When notoriously private chaebol Ji Changmin offers him a lifestyle he never imagined, Sunwoo happily accepts. However, what the world doesn’t know about Changmin can hurt them.

* Let’s Ride It Out (Bbangju):

When Younghoon confesses to Juyeon that he doesn’t want to approach his crush until he’s more experienced, Juyeon offers to help. It ends just as poorly as these things usually do

* Baby, Don’t Be So Jealous (Bbangnyukyu):

Younghoon’s boyfriend is the jealous type. He’d like to break him of that.

Enter: Ji Changmin

* Did It Hurt? (Jumil):

After one too many drinks, Hyunjae sends a pickup line to his favorite idol during a live. Fortunately, Juyeon’s English isn’t great. Unfortunately, Juyeon’s co-idol speaks fluent English.

* Trust Issues (VHope):

Hobi has always known he’s gay, but he makes good money in the straight porn industry. When he finally gets up the courage to come out, he’s fired. Taehyung helps him get a job in the gay porn industry & might be the one to patch up Hobi’s damaged feelings

[my-mt-heart]

The way I look at Season Two: Book of Carol is them having her first literally cross half way up the US East Coast with the tiniest bit of information possible. And she was capable of speaking to him on the radio but didn’t get any information to were he was. BUT SOME HOW, She is going to on whim not just end up in the same country, but the same city, and eventually exactly where Daryl is at in said place in Paris. And we are talking no phones, no real maps, no forms of communication smh the bloody Vikings 4 thousand years ago had more intel as far as maps and knowing had to read the stars and the night sky to know exactly where they were located. But upon landing on foreign soil there was no way to communicate or find your brethren that sailed ahead of you. France is HUGE…🤦🏻‍♀️ So let’s suspend all forms of actual realistic notions. And she finds Daryl despite it being the end of the world and they are like the few people left alive and they both just traveled to a massive foreign place( its so silly) course we know that, but why bring them to hell and back again if they aren’t going to finally make them canon. You know what I mean??? Why go through all this effort to reconnect these two just for Carol to be like “ Ohh hey Bestie, Just happened to be in the neighborhood and wanted to give you a Hollar. Ohh is this your new girlfriend and adopted son? Wow well neat, everything looks great here with your new family that you have chosen over your family at home who misses you like dearly. But that’s ok you’re doing great, oh before I head back across half the freakin entire world again for a second time. Thought you would want to know Rick says hi, ohh yea btw he is back now. Him and Michonne both are but you got new life don’t worry I will send them your love. So I am just going to head off on way...Bye ✌🏻️" smfh

The premise is so absurd, if they are GOING THIS FAR TO BRING THEM TOGETHER ON A SCALE THIS SIZE. Its something huge and them going canon and them finally breaking the walls down that have kept them from taking their relationship to the next level and admitting they want more them friendship has to happen. Cause there truly is no other reason to drag Carol on some crazy far fetched journey literally half way across the globe if its not for somethinghuge. We do not need her to show up to kick some major ass and save the day. As awesome as that is, we have already seen it countless time, she truly is the undisputed queen of the apocalypse. A living force of nature that is forever under estimated and every single person on the show by the time it ended was alive cause of something Carol did or sacrificed one way or another....So yea we know she can kick ass but Daryl doesnt need anyone to rescue him...He desperately needs the love of his life to break down her walls and let him in. Something that should of happened a long time ago. And I swear if this upcoming season if they go threw a bunch crazy shit to reunite them and it's just more best friend bullshit I am going to mentally snap 🤬 I know I shouldn't be hopeful after 12 years of disappointment. But I just vant imagine the atory going any other way..

WHAT IS YOUR OPINION AS FAR AS THIS? YOU ARE ALWAYS HAVE SUCH GOOD GROUNDED INSIGHT, AND DEFINITELY A INSIDER VIEW OF WHAT'S HAPPENING,IS IT WORTH EVEN BOTHERING TO GET OUR HOPES UP??? 😞😫

I want Carol to have a hero narrative because she deserves it after getting sidelined in S11, but like you said, getting her happy ending with Daryl is a really important part of her journey. It's the only natural step after traveling across the world to find him, and if that gets ignored or messed up, then what's the point?

I think there are definitely reasons to have hope. The teaser looked good. Melissa knows her character and gets to help shape her story. There are just other cooks in the kitchen whose interests may not align, and it makes me nervous if someone is acting more like a fairy godmother to them than a boss. The power dynamics are really unusual and need to change.

[gu3ntzel]

this is me taking an interest in your ocs 👁️👁️

OCS!!!! 🥹♥️ the most specialist ocs in my heart, all from the random bullshit im writing

tim: is just a baby!!!! lil baby boy who just wants to be good at baseball!!! “im the baseball boy, im the one who WINS�� is an only child who’s mom abandoned him w his dad when he was young (young enough to have memories of her but not totally remember wha she was like) and his dad hattteesss him! thought he wasn’t skilled enough to learn anything else so just taught him baseball cos tim was good at him! this little guy has self esteem issues up the WAZOO! little man was rejected by the love of his life (demps) then made a deal w a demon and demps was like “hey, i made a mistake of calling things off out of fear, can we try again?” and he’s like oh!!!! everything i could ever want!!! and then is painfully reminded he doesn’t :’) he just wants demps and baseball but nooo he’s gotta have a little demon messing everything up for him. It all works out in the end (almost), tim sacrifices his arm to be with demps and they live the rest of their lives together :’)

demps: mr catcher man!!! east coast boy who had a (nearly) perfect childhood!! decided to play baseball instead of going into the family business and ended up with the traveling team. literally like fell in love with tim at first sight despite the fact that tim was quiet and standoffish!!! literally had a panic attack after like a year or so of them dating that their manager would kick them both out if he found out so he broke it off to protect tim, it ended up hurting them both so he eventually asks for tim back!! and he expects to be rejected but Tim says yes!! then his hearts broken when Tim says they need to take a break but he wants to respect it. has 0 clue his lil man’s made a deal with a demon. eventually he gets jumped outside of a bar and beaten, is taken to the hospital and may never play again, but as long as he has tim he’s ok w it:’) and he does!!! tim comes back and they find jobs together and yeah they may have to move later but he’s so happy!!! he’s got his man!!

casey: oh this man is a BASTARD!!!! hockey man who’s a nepo baby. his dad played and won a cup and expected his sons to do the same. too bad his dad’s a psycho and murdered his brother, sister and mom! casey got away purely bc he was at hockey practice and when he returned to the house he saw his sister’s body through the gap in the door and called the police. now he’s traumatized and has to live up to these expectations for his mom and siblings. he makes it but hes traded by like, three different teams and he’s not very good. eventually he makes it onto the same team w his childhood bf julian and wants to make it last, but he keeps fuckinf up!!! man just wants to make a team his home:( he just wants to belong!!! also yes bi and has a thing for julian but don’t you tell him that!!! it upsets him

julian: gay goaltender!!! he grew up with casey and they’ve been close friends for a long time. he’s really the only one who knows what happened to casey and can actually ask about it, everyone else gets denied. julian’s supposed to be a franchise goaltender but he doesn’t want that!!! he doesn’t want to live with the expectations that brings him. he didn’t ask for everyone to take interest in him but he hopes to live up to their expectations. he also understands that there’s people who’d kill to have that sort of stability as long as his play remains consistent enough. he feels like he’s being pulled both ways with his loyalty to the team and loyalty to his friend.

nate: captain nate!!!! no nonsense SOB who may or may not have murdered a man. he’ll do anything for this team and anything to win. despite welcoming casey into the team he low key hates him and thinks he should be traded, but plays nice because they eventually become d-partners. he wants to murder casey high key but his A’s miry and ukko are like “dude what are you doing….” probably should be in jail

also here’s the playlist for each of their novels if anyone wants to listen:’) tim + demps casey + julian + nate