#but yeah this is all the worst parts of fandom right out in the open and nobodys immune 😭

[faerociousbeast]

i hate fandom poll tournaments!! like actually

[threeacttragedy]

Entry 17: The One About All the Hot Air

Oh, hey, hey, hey – what is that over there?

No, not that –

That!

Ah, fuck.

Is that what I think it is?

Yeah, yeah, it looks like some sort of hot air balloon.

Ugh, it’s that fucking wannabe Wizard! Get that manipulative shit-fuck outta here!

Seriously, don’t let it set foot on land. It’s not welcome on this side of Oz.

Someone release the flying monkeys! Like, now. Knock it out of the sky.

Wait, I thought the Wizard liked green. This weirdo has a red balloon.

Bitch, I didn’t say it was the Wizard; I said it was a wannabe Wizard.

Oh, no wonder it’s steering that balloon like a fucking clown.

Hell, I don’t even think we need the monkeys. That idiot is going to crash and burn itself straight into the glass walls of the Emerald Palace.

Well, you know what they say when you start throwing stones in a glass house…

It is slightly amusing (and a tad concerning) to me that children are always led to believe that the villain of “The Wonderful Wizard of Oz” is that bitch of a Witch of the West when the worst character traits are actually portrayed by the Wizard himself. And, by “worst character traits,” I mean that he was a master manipulator who conned an entire city into believing he held some form of great power.

Did you know that in the original story the Emerald City wasn’t really that green? Sure, it was made from green glass and emeralds, but the Wizard required everyone to wear green-colored glasses so that everything appeared greener than it actually was. Weird, that. And, even more weird, people bought it! “Here, put these glasses on and you’ll see everything exactly the way I want you to see it.”

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m fully aware “The Wonderful Wizard of Oz” is a work of fiction, but the idea that people can be easily manipulated – especially by someone with “power” – is not fiction.

That’s what today’s piece of “hot air” is about – fandom manipulation and the power of suggestion. And who better than to manipulate an entire fandom than the media? It’s unfortunate that I have to give the media power in this story – and even more unfortunate that I have to give it to rag-mags and social media – but the reality is information is power, regardless of whether it’s misinformation. In fact, MIT Sloan did a study in 2018 demonstrating how false information spreads through social media, namely, Twitter, six times faster than true information. Disturbing, right? I don’t even want to know what the going rate for misinformation is in 2025.

And, of course, since I opened today’s story with a visit to the Land of Oz, we may as well take a day trip over to Australia. Remember how I told you Australia deserved an entry of its own? Well, this is it. No, not really. I did say this was a day trip, not a sleep-over, so it’s not going to be chucked full of shiny bracelets or ways to “keep a good girl down.” It’s just our starting point today.

In my first entry, I briefly described what brought me into this fandom. It was something Luke said – and not really what he said, but how he said it – that left me intrigued. He was being interviewed on the Bowral red carpet by “Gretchen from the Philippines.” Yes, that’s literally how she introduced herself! Could I instead refer to the nice lady by her real name (Gretchen Fullido)? Sure, but “Gretchen from the Philippines” is far more fun. Plus, it sounds kind of whimsical. Any ways, Gretchen (from the Philippines) asked Luke if, “in real life,” he’d support friends-to-lovers. Luke’s response was, well, a bit jumbled, which was what sparked my curiosity because his previous answers that day were, for the most part, articulate: “I would – I would support friends – I feel like it’s not something that – that I have in my li – that I resonate with – that I’ve experienced. But, you know, if my – if my friends wanted to explore a relationship with one their friends, go for it. I’ll support it.”

Something in the way Luke answered that question was like suddenly being able to see the forest for the trees. At that moment, I was convinced Luke had always been in love with Nicola, and everything else that went on during that particular red-carpet event (and thereafter) simply christened the USS Lukola. However, that comment by Luke – and a subsequent one he made in New York – would result in the addition of a lot of trees to our enchanted forest.

Now – I apologize – we need to borrow a hot air balloon, preferably one that can travel through time, and jump forward to November 5, London-time. I promise, we will return to Oz momentarily.

Oh, fuck.

What now?

That ridiculous faux Wizard is right behind us. I thought I told you to send in the monkeys!

Dammit, you said we didn’t need them! I left those fuckers back in Oz.

Well, umm, I think we might need them now.

Why??

Uhh, do you see those four-legged beasts on the ground chasing our balloon?

Oh, you mean those coyote-like creatures?

Yeah, but we’re not in the Americas – and those ain’t coyotes…

Ah, here we are: November 5, Claridge’s, London. This was the evening Nicola attended the Harper’s Bazaar Women of the Year awards. We’re only stopping in real quick to steal a piece of the speech Nicola gave that evening. Okay, got it! Let’s get the fuck out of here!

The part of the speech I wanted to share was this: “I did a six-month press tour for Bridgerton, the show which I love, and I’m so proud of. The amount of inappropriate questions I got asked about my appearance, about my relationship…”

Hold up. Relationship? What relationship?

Did she say “relationship” or “relationships?”

Does it fucking matter?

Well, I guess not. But what does it mean?

I could tell you what I think it means… Wait a hot-air-balloon-minute – where the fuck have you taken us? I told you we needed to go back to April 21, Aussie-time. This looks like Soho in January.

Shit, sorry. Let me fix that. Here we go…

>>> 

Umm, hey, where’s that weird little red Wizard? I swear it was just behind us…

Eh, probably got stuck in Soho, hahaha. Guess it missed its exit.

Do you think that’s a good idea?

Yeah, sure. It’ll be fine…

We’ve returned to April 21, Bowral, Australia. Now, at this point in the timeline, World Tour interviews were already well underway. In fact, the first two parts of EmEdits on YouTube are entirely pre-Australia interviews, making up roughly 6 ½ hours of screen time. I’m not the least bit surprised that “Gretchen from the Philippines” asked Luke what his thoughts were on “real life” friends-to-lovers. The chemistry between Luke and Nicola was hard to ignore.

The Australian red carpet also introduced the hand holding, which – if we took another magical mystery tour over to May 9, Italy – Nicola and Luke agreed was a sign of “love.” I suppose I could buy the excuse that one or both had so much anxiety they needed the other’s hand to remain calm on the red carpet. But, nah, I wouldn’t buy that at all – for one very specific reason. When Luke and Nicola were seen leaving (I believe) the Milton Park Country House on April 23, Luke instinctively reached for Nicola’s hand as they were descending the steps. Why? This reflex by Cool Hand Luke was as natural as a pregnant woman touching her stomach. I ask again – why?

There’s only one answer.

It’s the answer that fits with the Claddagh ring. It’s the answer that fits with the side jaunt to Galway. It’s the answer that fits with their natural chemistry, the hand holding, the canned “shared experience” and “unique relationship” responses, the playful sexual innuendos. It’s the answer that fits with Luke’s “the best foundation for love is friendship” bracelet. It’s the answer that fits with Nicola’s remark about “[t]he amount of inappropriate questions I got asked…about my relationship…” It’s the only fucking answer that makes sense.

But, the real kicker is, why don’t people believe that is the answer?

Why is it so hard to believe that Luke and Nicola could be in a real-life relationship?

That’s easy – because the Man Behind the Curtain told us so.

Who is the Man Behind the Curtain? Well, that’s also easy. It’s collectively the rag-mags and the social media creators on the prowl for a following. It’s the spread of misinformation at its worst and it’s so incredibly easy to do with, say, a pair of green-colored glasses.

Like I said, “…put these glasses on and you’ll see everything exactly the way I want you to see it.”

There was one major plot twist that came out of the World Tour, and you already know what that is. The seed was planted with a New Year’s Eve kiss, fertilized with blurry pictures, a compulsory hallway hug, and copycat photos, and encouraged to grow with a bit of junk news and a lot of social media innuendo. Now, I’m not saying the video and photographic evidence that was presented was fabricated; I’m simply suggesting the narrative that came out that evidence was skewed. The media, namely, social media creators, pushed us to plant Lutonia trees while Luke’s actions (i.e., not acknowledging the existence of Lutonia) told us to “pay no attention to the Man Behind the Curtain.”

Uh, so, what you’re saying is we shouldn’t have left that wannabe Wizard in Soho?

Ah, shit! I forgot about that fucker!

The unfortunate thing about the Lutonia narrative was that it was bolstered by insinuation that Luke would never be interested in Nicola. Now, whether these remarks were deliberately planted, or they were simply seedpods carried away by a storm, they were not overlooked by Lukolas – or Nicola. In fact, Nicola herself brushed upon it in her Harper’s Bazaar speech: “The amount of inappropriate questions I got asked about my appearance…” Yes, I’m referring to the suggestion that Luke preferred “brunettes” over “blondes.” Somehow this narrative was conveniently supported by the existence of – lo and behold! – the brunette “friend of a friend” Antonia, who happened to be slender. Again, whether it was intentional or not, the push by, initially, social media creators (and later gossip rags) to link Luke to Antonia inadvertently called the blonde in our story – Nicola – fat. I refuse to dance around that word because it is exactly what this disgusting narrative implied when it chose to compare Antonia to Nicola. Regardless of whether these gossipmongers “corrected” themselves by replacing “thin” with “brunette” and “fat” with “blonde,” the implication was that Luke would never be interested in Nicola because she had thick blonde hair. This was incredibly upsetting and confusing to many Lukolas because it was contrary to Luke’s behavior towards Nicola throughout the World Tour (and in Bridgerton behind-the-scenes clips).

I decided months ago that Luke was incredibly transparent. And, by that, I mean he’s terrible at keeping secrets. Luke himself admitted his “tell” to this was pulling at his ear – now go watch the World Tour with that information in mind. It’ll give you something to do, at the very least. Luke’s sincerity is also why the blonde versus brunette nonsense just doesn’t take flight for me. Any ways, as I hinted at earlier, Luke’s comments on the Bowral red carpet and his later comments in New York City about friends-to-lovers would – again, unfortunately – give the Man Behind the Curtain ammunition to debunk any real-life relationship between Luke and Nicola. Luke was quickly labeled as being “…dismissive of something ever happening between him and Nicola…” Those are literally the words The Tab used in an article dated May 22 to explain Luke and Nicola’s differing commentary about real-life friends-to-lovers. In fact, the article is titled, “Luke Newton has revealed the reason he’d never date Bridgerton co-star Nicola Coughlan.” Oddly – but not really given the source – Luke never actually said he would never date Nicola. But that fact didn’t stop it from becoming a theme of the World Tour – Luke didn’t believe in friends-to-lovers therefore he would never date Nicola – even though, by the end of the tour, Luke’s stance on this had seemingly changed. That’s not to say the rag-mags misquoted Luke – they didn’t – but the narrative they coiled around his words attempted to shut down the idea that Luke and Nicola would ever date in real life because Luke wasn’t interested. But what Luke was saying was that he believed in love-at-first sight. “I actually don’t think friends-to-lovers is something that happens in my life. If I meet someone, I know immediately.” Now, take that statement with the fact that Luke has repeatedly stated he remembers everything about the moment he met Nicola.

The above examples of gossip and innuendo are simply par for the course. The media manipulates facts all the time – whether it be through social media chatter or rag-mags putting their own spin on ordinary commentary – but this type of manipulation is not what puts the fandom in danger of itself. In fact, most of the gossip and innuendo that took root during the World Tour would have dissipated almost immediately after it ended – if it hadn’t been for Papsmear.

Yeah. That was disastrous.

Come to think of it, it was awfully convenient, too, don’t you think?

Absolutely. And you know what else was convenient? That little wannabe Wizard was –

Oh, yeah, I heard that, too! That clown has been trying to hand out green-colored glasses ever since!

Yep. Tried to give me a pair and I told it to go fuck itself and its little glass cat, too. I mean, they weren’t even name brand glasses. Fake ass, bitch.

All jesting aside, if you haven’t noticed already, I do, on occasion, use my writing to call out the fandom, usually as a whole. I mean, we are in this together, right? Actually, no; we ceased being Collectively Delulu after a few unsavory characters were bitten by the Hunter’s Moon and followed Nicola through the streets of New York and London. There was a major – and rather unexpected – shift in the fandom when the rabid Jakolas appeared from the dark corners of our enchanted forest. And I’m sure you’ve realized at this point in my story that I have one particular – oh, shit, I just realized I don’t even know to which fandom our wannabe Wizard belongs. Ruh-roh. Regardless, that motherfucker is in my peep sight because it is a perfect example of how fandom manipulation has reached a new level of toxicity.

Typically, I don’t care what part of the fandom you’re on. My general attitude is, to each their own. If you’re a Jakola and you find yourself spending an average of 15 minutes each week reading my Lukola blog, I applaud you for peeking outside of the den hole. Best not let Alpha find out, though. It’s all in good fun, right? I often find myself getting a good laugh from Jakola stories, especially when they theorize on the Woman Behind the Curtain. Question, though – did you find her? In all seriousness, if I didn’t consider Jakola and Lutonia perspectives, I would be borderline Conscientiously Stupid, now, wouldn’t I? After all, the desire for knowledge is what ultimately gave our Scarecrow his brain.

However, what I don’t find “in good fun” is when social media creators prey on more than one side of the fandom under phony pretense, namely, that they “just want Nicola to be happy.” Oh, these Cowardly Lions may argue that they’re simply being “neutral” – and, yes, I’m sure some instances of this do exist – however, neutrality does not embrace openly ridiculing one fandom over another, especially on a platform that is touted by its owners as being a “safe space” for everyone. The problem with these so-called “neutral creators” is that they’re only here for social media engagement – the clicks and the giggles – and they defect to the other side when the going gets tough. If you, too, take issue with this kind of creator, be soothed in knowing that when you play two sides, you find yourself with two-times the number of enemies.

What makes these so-called “neutral creators” – actually, let’s just call them the “Defectors” – so poisonous to the fandom is that they are made from the grease drippings found at the bottom of the barrel of the Conscientiously Stupid. The Conscientiously Stupid are one thing – they are the ones using their platforms to spread misinformation because they choose to ignore exculpatory evidence (i.e., they’re headstrong in their beliefs) – but the Defectors are typically the ones creating the misinformation and feeding it to the Conscientiously Stupid and then hanging them out to dry when the information proves to be false. The Conscientiously Stupid who refuse to “lose the battle” then resort to bullying (more so than usual) the Sincerely Ignorant of an opposing fandom. And in defense of their Sincerely Ignorant comrades (or simply because they’re sick and tired of the Conscientiously Stupid preventing anyone from having nice things), the Fact Finders – unceremoniously, I might add – have taken their own place on the battlefield (oh, yes, they are absolutely your tactical commanders). Now, the entire fandom is at war with each other – all because some wannabe Wizard – a Defector – convinced people to look through a pair of shiny, green-colored glasses. More than once.

Is it appropriate – or perhaps a bit catty – to put “ceasefire” here?

Ah, yes, well, uh, we have found ourselves a bit far from Oz at this point, haven’t we?

I suppose – but we are trying to help Dorothy find her way back home, and at least we now have an idea as to how she got lost.

Maybe one day we will get her back to Kansas.

Yeah, maybe.

Oh, silly me! I forgot to sneak in a sly reference to Dorothy’s third companion – the Tin Man! He’s perfect for the end of our story. You know, in the book, the Wizard was just an ordinary man who stumbled into his Ozian existence on a magnificent hot air balloon and took advantage of the power that Emerald citizens bestowed upon him. Yeah, yeah, yeah, the Wizard preyed on the naïve using deception and the power of suggestion and invoked fear in anyone who dared to question his authority –

Uh, where are you going with this?

Give me a minute!

Like I said – shit, where was I? – Oh, yes, the Wizard was just an ordinary man, and ordinary people are flawed. We all make mistakes. This is where our Tin Man comes in as he represents love and empathy. Yes, empathy; the ability to put yourself in someone else’s shoes, to understand and forgive, to take into consideration someone’s redeeming qualities –

You know that Wizard defected in his hot air balloon before taking Dorothy home, right?

Wait, what?

Okay, okay. It was Toto’s fault but the Wizard sure as shit didn’t come back for her!

Hmm, you’d almost think Toto knew the Wizard’s true colors all along…

“Au revoir, Wiz.”

[asirensrage]

Unrepentant

Title: Unrepentant Fandom: Tokyo Revengers Rating: Explicit Pairing: Sano "Mikey" Manjiro x Fem!Reader, Bonten x Fem!Reader Word count: 3599 Warnings: Dark!fic. Dub-con. Wearing a collar and leash as punishment. Talk of ownership. Edging. Coercion. Public Sex. Swearing. Drug Use. Threats. Choking. Orgasm Denial. References to drug addiction. Unbeta'd. *warnings are not exhaustive*

Notes: I had the urge to write something while listening to Poison from Hazbin Hotel on repeat. This is the result. It is a dark fic. Consider yourself warned. Reader is not described in looks or size. Please let me know what you think. (It's one of the many fics/oneshots I have planned or started for TR lol.) Enjoy!

HEED THE WARNINGS

How did it come to this?

You’re kneeling at his feet, eyes on the ground as the bass of music in the club thumps in time with the headache in the back of your skull. It’s punishment. 

Not the headache. That’s the ache that comes with withdrawal, the same way your fingers twitch as you try to hold them in place. But the position you’re in. The collar tight around your neck that’s attached to a chain he holds. The tension is loose as if it’s not there, but you know if you even shift out of your position, you’ll feel it. 

Feet come to pause in front of you, clad in expensive shoes. You don’t move, don’t look to confirm your suspicion about who it is. 

“Look at you,” he coos. You can hear him clearly over the music, but it’s only when he bends down and tilts your head up to look at him, that you know you’re right. “You look like a fragile thing like this, doll. What’d you do to earn this?”

He knows. They all know. It’s just another test. Ran grins at you as you drop your eyes, knowing you can’t respond right now without permission. 

“Answer.” The man holding your chain demands, yanking it slightly in warning. 

You don’t flinch, don’t make a sound at the way it jars you. “I made a mistake,” you say, just loud enough that they both can hear you. 

Ran laughs at that. “Yeah, baby? A mistake?”

It was more than that. The reason Mikey collared you and kept you chained tonight at his feet was a lesson in humiliation and obedience. In a fit of sobriety, you had attempted to escape. You didn’t get far. 

“That what you’re calling it?” 

You look up at Ran. He looks as handsome as ever, but you know the truth of what’s behind his good looks. You know how much blood is on their hands. You nod and drop your eyes again. 

His hand grips your jaw tightly, fingers digging into your cheeks as he forces you to look up at him. “Such a pretty thing, baby. Open your mouth.” 

Fear sparks up your spine. You’re in public, even if it’s the VIP area of the club. There are others around. The hesitation makes Ran dig his fingers in tighter, pressing your cheeks against your teeth as he forces you to open your mouth. He leans in and lets a lob of spit fall from his mouth into yours. You swallow, taking the revulsion with it. He smirks, letting go of your jaw before he pats your cheek. He looks up to Mikey who has the chain you’re attached to wrapped around one of his hands. “Let me know when you’re done with her. She can keep the chain.” 

The worst part is that you can only blame yourself. This was a choice you made. Even if you didn’t know it would turn out this way. 

⛓️

It had been chance that led you to them. A bad day, week, year…it had all added up to the moment when you found yourself stumbling into a firm chest. You had dropped the paperwork you had been holding and could only watch helplessly as it fell into the rain. You were crying before you realized it, the dam of stress finally breaking. You kneel on the wet ground, tears falling and mixing with the rain that had started to soak into your skin.

He could have left you. He should have left you, but the stranger you ran into paused and bent down, helping you pick up the papers. He made some ill-timed joke about it not being that bad, and before you knew it, you were telling him about how this was going to get you fired. The admission that you were struggling to provide for your family. A younger sibling, a mother in the hospital…you were their last leg of survival. And it was ruined. 

Until he offered to help.

You should have run in the other direction and never looked back. 

⛓️

You hear his laugh first. 

“I didn’t think you’d actually do it!” Sanzu says, leaning against the chair behind you. You can practically feel the heat of his body against your back. It’s not surprising. The outfit you’re in can barely be called a dress. “Shit, Mikey…you like her like this? You look like you belong there, sweetheart,” Sanzu says. You ignore the jeering. He likes to get a reaction. 

“Maybe we should keep her like this all the time.” A foot nudges the side of your leg. Rindou. It wasn’t often the two of them were together, but it was a dangerous combination. Like the Haitani brothers together and in a competitive mood.

You try to ignore them, but then Rindou moves in front of you. He doesn’t bend down, but he slips his foot between your legs. You watch as he steps a bit closer before pressing the top of his foot up against you. You tremble, trying not to react as he purposefully tries to make you break, to make you beg, to do anything that counts as breaking Mikey’s rules tonight. You try to focus on your breathing instead of how he rubs his foot against you and how the laces on his shoes cause nearly enough friction on your clit through the lace of the underwear you wear. 

It’s torture trying to keep yourself from grinding down on it, seeking a release you know they can give you if they’re feeling generous.

Finally, he pulls back and you let out a shuddered breath.

“You must really be sorry,” Rindou says. 

A hand digs into your hair, pulling your head back until you’re looking up at Sanzu who’s staring down at you, cerulean eyes narrow in their glare. 

“Are you?” he demands. 

You nod quickly, tears prickling in your eyes at the pain of your hair being pulled with the motion. “It was a stupid mistake. I’ll be good!”

He drags a drag of whatever he’s smoking and leans down, blowing it in your face. The familiar scent of marijuana engulfs you and you breathe in quickly, chasing the tease of a high. Anything for an escape. “You better fucking hope so,” he says.  

⛓️

Kakucho offers you two things when you finally get out of the rain. He’ll smooth over the issues at your job, follow you and explain that the destroyed paperwork was his fault…or he’ll get you a job. One that will compensate you far better than anything you’ll do in an office that doesn’t appreciate you. He can help you protect your family, to give them a better life and better healthcare for your mother. 

You’re not stupid. You question his motives first. 

He shrugs. “Maybe I just can’t stand to see a pretty girl cry.” There’s something in his eyes that warns you, but you ignore it...and ask what the job entails.

⛓️

Mochi doesn’t kneel in front of you. 

He doesn’t do anything like trying to edge you or blow smoke in your face. Instead, he rests his hand on the top of your head as he speaks to Mikey. He stands in front of you, but in a way that feels more like he’s blocking you from the others. A small kindness. 

Until he bends down and gently tilts your head up to look at him. He looks at Mikey before offering you a sip of his drink. You agree instantly, letting him tilt it to your lips. “You look good like this, princess. But I prefer you unchained. Hope you learn this lesson. You try it again and one of us just might have to break something.” The drink spills over your lips, making you cough as you choke on the sudden increase of liquid. You bend forward before you can stop yourself, coughing harder. The collar tightens as the chain doesn’t give any further leeway. 

You hear someone laugh in the distance. You think it might be Sanzu but you ignore it, well aware of the pleasure they’re taking in your penance. Mikey had given you a choice when you were dragged back in front of him. Your life or your family’s. It was the same one that got you into this situation in the first place. Only this time, if you chose to leave them in the manner they picked, they’d go to your family and drag them deeper into the depths you were submerged in. Your mother was recovering. Your younger sibling has a future ahead of them. You couldn’t bury them in your regrets and bad decisions. You made the same choice you did last time. The same one you’ll make every time. 

You go back to your kneeling position once you can breathe again.

⛓️

The job that Kakucho promises is a simple office job. One where you keep your head down and don’t ask questions. It lasts two weeks. Two weeks of learning the systems, of ignoring the small things you start learning about who you’re working for. Two weeks of dealing with the confused looks other people send you, of the way Kakucho appears occasionally to walk you out. Until he kisses you. 

He doesn’t apologize when you reel back in surprise. His mismatched eyes watch you, hand grabbing your wrist before you get too far. It’s just a kiss, he tells you. Don’t forget why you’re here. 

A reminder that you owe him. You nod and he lets you go, but the next day, a strange man is waiting at your desk. One of the other executives, you quickly learn. 

⛓️

The pain in your head is growing. 

You want silence or at least something stronger than a puff of smoke shotgunned into your mouth. You never used to do drugs. Funny how fast that all changed. Now you’ll take anything to forget. 

Your legs have gone numb under you and you’ll be lucky if you can walk when he finally decides to take you home. There’s no other place for you. You lost your own apartment ages ago and while all the men have used you, Mikey holds you as tight as he does now, whether or not there’s a physical chain that links you. You owe him your life now. He was gracious not to kill you when you ran from them. This is a small price compared to what you could have owed. 

“You gonna let her up?” 

Takeomi. You don’t see him, but you hear him. If Mikey says anything in response, it blends too well into the background. 

“Least he chose you a good outfit. Look up at me, darling.” They each have their pet names for you when they’re being kind…or wanting to mock you and your fate. 

You wait for the tug signalling permission before you look up at Mikey’s advisor. He’s smoking a cigarette and standing there, looking down at you. He’s older, a scar on his face like some of the others. Different and yet so similar that it makes you think of Kakucho who’s either not attending or has been ordered away from you. 

“You’re fucked up, aren’t you?” he asks. He takes the cigarette out of his mouth before turning to offer it to you. It’s not as strong as you want, but the nicotine might be enough to help ease some of the headache you’re feeling. He lets you inhale twice before he takes it back. An indirect kiss that’s tame compared to some of the other stuff you’ve done together. 

“Thank you,” you say, knowing it’s required. 

He smirks at you, taking another drag before he turns to Mikey. “You should keep the collar.” 

“I know a place,” a new voice interrupts. Koko leans down as he steps up next to you. “We could get one of the ones that she can’t take off. With our symbol carved into it.” He looks at you carefully before lifting your head to look at him. “Thought you’d be crying.” He lets out a small sigh as if he’s disappointed. “You’re prettier when you’re crying.”

You look away, unsure of how to respond to that. Koko likes to spoil you, but he also likes to see you overstimulated and begging for him to stop. Every gift comes with a price and you pay the most with Koko’s. 

“You should have come to me,” Koko says softly. “Would have fucked that mistake out of your head.” He uses your term, informing you that they’re talking about you. It’s nothing new. You’ve been with them all, separately and together. They’ve all seen you breaking apart around them and each other. It’s only everyone else that doesn’t get a taste of you. 

⛓️

The first time you meet Mikey, you’re outside a club you never wanted to go to. It was some party for the employees and the entire floor had been invited. It had been made clear to you, not only by Kakucho but Ran and the others as well, that your attendance was mandatory.

You’re in the middle of eating one of the snacks you picked up at the convenience store on the way here, leaning against the wall of the club. There’s no line tonight and you’re in no rush to go in. You’d rather not drink on an empty stomach. 

It’s not long before you realize someone’s watching you. 

You turn to look, but when you finally catch them, it becomes a little more apparent that they’re not staring at you, but at the food in your hand. 

“Want one?” you ask. He looks thin, his outfit too large on him. You’re not particularly charitable, but you’d rather get rid of the food and garbage before walking into a club. You offer the bag to him. 

He stares at you, finally meeting your eyes, for a long moment. “Why?”

You shrug. “I’m full…and I don’t want to carry it. You can throw it out if you want, but it’s still sealed. I just bought it down the street.” 

He takes the bag, pulling the pancake treat out and staring at the package. He looks back at you. “You here?” he asks, nodding towards the club. When you nod, he leaves and you watch incredulously as he walks in with the plastic bag in one hand. The bouncers don’t even ID him. 

⛓️

Mikey pulls at your collar until you’re stumbling in front of him, leaning into his legs as you try to ease the pressure. He shifts his position before pulling and you’re left struggling as climb up into his lap at his silent demand. 

You straddle his thighs, waiting until he directs you. You’re not usually this calm, this submissive, but the threat of your family’s lives hangs over your head. Regret for your own choices sits heavy in your gut. It’s your own fault. 

“Look at me.”

You lift your eyes to meet Mikey’s. His gaze is dark, but it’s not empty like it used to be. Not like when you met. He stares at you for a long moment before his hand slips between your legs. Your breath hitches as his fingers shove your underwear to the side, pressing in. He doesn’t look away from you as he swipes up before pulling his fingers out. They shine slightly, slick with the wetness that gathered from Rindou’s foot and the way the men have come to tease you, to try to make you react to them to exacerbate your punishment. 

He holds them up between you before moving them to your mouth. You open instantly, letting Mikey press his fingers down on your tongue. You close your lips around them, sucking softly and trying to clean yourself off of him. 

“Trying hard to earn my forgiveness, aren’t you?” he says. 

You nod, moving your tongue over his fingers until he shoves them further down your throat until you choke. Tears build up in your eyes instantly. He keeps them there as you struggle to breathe before he pulls them out. 

You gasp for air, tears falling down your cheeks. A sharp smack against your ass makes you take a deep breath, trying to stop yourself from crying. 

“You want my forgiveness. Earn it.”

⛓️

Your back is to his chest as you face the room. The music thumps in along with your heartbeat. You’re not sure where one stops and the other begins at this point. Smoke hangs in the air, a hazy mix of tobacco, marijuana and fog from the machines. It’s not enough. 

You rock your hips, trying to build the pleasure for both of you. Mikey is hard inside you, stretching you deliciously, one hand looped around the chain attached to your collar while the other rests on the side of the couch he sits on. You’re doing all the work, trying your best to get him off, to ignore the eyes of the Executives on you. You’ve seen some of them palming themselves already, trying to ease the tension building from the sight of you fucking their leader. 

You’d be more embarrassed if you weren’t so focused on this. It's not the first time they’ve watched you, but you’re usually somewhere more private. Not in the VIP section of a club, a open balcony where anyone could see you if they actually wanted to. The crowd would be able to hear you whining, desperate and needy, if it wasn’t for the music. You’re surprised but you don’t question the choice. None of them like sharing you and the last time someone else other than any of them walked in on you taking care of one of them, they ended up dead. 

“Mikey–” you groan, grinding your hips back into his. “Mikey, please,” you beg. You’re not allowed to cum until he lets you. 

The chain pulls suddenly, yanking your head back until you’re arching your back and your face is next to his. It hurts but you don’t dare complain. Not when you’ve managed to avoid it so far.

“You ordering me?” he asks. “You think you deserve to cum?” 

“I’m sorry!” you cry out, hands reaching to the collar, trying to ease some of the pressure. You deviate before you touch it, hearing one of the other men groan in disappointment that you’re still coherent enough to not get yourself into more trouble. Instead, you cup your breasts over the slip of a dress you wear. “‘m sorry…” you whine, trying to move your hips, to chase the high that’s building.

“Look at them.” 

Your eyes try to find the other men watching the two of you but the angle you’re currently forced into makes it difficult. 

“The only reason you’re not being fucked by them is because of me. Because I haven’t given them permission.” He thrusts his hips up, making you cry out in surprise at the sudden change. “I own you. You gave your life to me and here you are, fucking yourself on me, begging me for a release you don’t fucking deserve. You want to cum? Fucking beg for my forgiveness.”

“I’m sorry!” You say quickly, tears burning in your eyes from the pain of the position you’re in. “Mikey, I’m sorry! I’ll never run again! I swear! I’ll be good! Please, Mikey! I was wrong! I’m yours!”

“Hmm..” he doesn’t say anything else, but the pressure on your throat finally eases and you’re able to lean forward, breathing like normal again. You put your hands on his knees before going back to moving your hips, to using him to fuck yourself on at his orders. 

It doesn’t take long before he tires of your pace. His hand is on your throat, his other arm wraps around your waist as he thrusts up into you. He pulls you down, slamming you onto him. There’s nothing you can do but hold on, begging for a release he’s continued to refuse you. 

He breaks, pulling you down onto him, cock twitching as he cums inside. You moan at the feeling but it’s still not enough, not to get you off. You’re left on the cusp of your orgasm, feeling needy and desperate in a way that you’ve long gotten over hating yourself for. 

“Mikey, please..” you beg quietly.

He pulls you back, hand stroking softly against your hip as he presses his lips against the spot behind your ear. “You ever try to leave again, I’ll gift you to my men. All of them.” The threat freezes in your chest. It was one thing to be shared amongst the top men of Bonten. It was a whole other to be given to the men who made up the layers of the organization. You wouldn’t survive it. 

“I’ll be good,” you promise. 

He kisses your neck again before holding up the chain that’s attached to the collar around your neck. “Ran.”

You turn, looking to see the eldest Haitani grin before getting up to fetch you. There’s a prominent bulge in his pants as he takes the leash from Mikey. 

“Come on, baby. You gotta apologize to all of us,” he says with a smirk. “Think you can make it up to me too?”

“I expect her back when she’s done.”

You carefully climb off of Mikey’s lap, ignoring the feeling of Mikey’s release slipping out of you and trailing down your thigh, and follow Ran as he leads you by the chain toward the others. Regret churns in your stomach and you quickly shove it down. 

After all, you can only blame yourself. 

everything tag list: @raith-way @zeleniafic @veetlegeuse  @chickensarentcheap @residentdormouse @themaradwrites @kingsmakers @far-shores

[eustasskidagenda]

I'm bored and my head is full of One Piece stuff. So I decided to join the old N$FW alphabet trend, with my beloved, Eustass Kid. English is not my first language, so sorry for the mistakes.

WC : 3869

A: Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

If you’re just a one night stand, Kid’s aftercare is nonexistent. He will just tell if your session was nice or shitty (with his usual brutal honesty, so sorry not sorry if it hurts your feelings), he’ll maybe make a comment about how good your ass was and then, he’ll bark you to leave his room, or if he’s at your place, he’ll leave without any more word. Do not expect any form of kindness from him, this man is rough by nature after all.

However, if you too are engaged into a relationship, he’ll need some time to cool and calm down, so don’t talk to him or try to cuddle with him during this time, it’ll only annoys him. After that, he’ll get up and bring you a glass of water and something to clean you up. He knows he’s rough during sex and wants to make sure you’re doing okay, so feel free to ask him anything else. Once you’re comfortable and all your needs are fulfilled, he’ll lay next to you and give you his honest opinion regarding your session. He’ll let you rest your head on his chest, while he runs his fingers through your hair. Kid is not good with pillow talk (and with any talk in general), I think he’s more the type of guy to quickly fall asleep (and snore loudly). If you’re in a talkative mood, he’ll try to keep his eyes open but end up falling asleep quickly anyway. 

B: Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)  

On himself, bro is a fan of his own dick, I think everyone in the fandom agree with this fact. He knows it huge and he’s proud of it. I mean, he makes women cum all around it or gag on, of course he’s proud. Actually, you know how to boost his ego? When he undresses in front of you for the first time, ask him if his cock will fit into you with a worried face. He will be so fucking proud.

Another objective fact, this man is a fan of his torso. I mean, the shirts he’s wearing are useless as fuck, bro just wants to flex with his muscles. 

With his partner, Kid is in love with their ass. The whole Eustass Kid agenda agrees with this headcanon. He wants to see your booty all the time : spank it,  grab it, makes it jiggle, even bites on those juicy cheeks. Damn, his hand(s) is/are always glued to your glute. 

C: Cum (Anything to do with cum)  

Well, regarding his cum itself, it’s on the thicker side and there’s quite a lot of it. Definitely not really tasty, but overall, it’s not the worst taste. 

Kid loves to see his partner covered in his cum, its fuel his ego immensely. His favorite spot are your ass, your stomach and your face. If he cum during a blowjob, he asks you to pull your tongue out and will cum on It before making sure you swallow every drop. 

With a one night stand, Kid will NEVER cum inside. He’s already a Kid lol, having another one kiddo is not in his plans. Actually, if you ask him to cum inside, he’ll get mad at you and starts to think you want to have a child with him, so the mood is totally ruined.

If you’re his lover, he’ll maybe cum inside you, depending to your menstruation cycle. He just loves seeing his seed slowly flowing out of your pussy and stuffed his fingers to put every drop right back inside of you. 

D:Dirty Secret

Well it’s not a dirty secret but considering how cocky and arrogant he always acts, it is for him. The fact is, sometime, Kid likes when you take all the initiatives and do all the work. Yeah, I know, at the first look it doesn’t match his energy, but sometimes, Kid can get pretty tired, especially since he lost his arm. He rarely use his metal arm in bed because he’s afraid of hurting you. And doing everything with one arm can be exhausting from time to time. So please, offer him some relieve, be a good girl and ride him. 

Plus, of course, Kid loves anal sex. Fucking, fingering or licking that ass is a major turn on for him. Maybe some people find anal sex dirty, but not him. He LOVES how naughty it is, how tight an asshole is and how flustered his partner is when he spreads their ass cheek to lick their hole. 

And, since Kid is a punk, you CAN’T convince me this man have a single heterosexual bone in his body. Kid is not straight, I can smell it. I think he’s bisexual.So he often has fantasies regarding a threesome with a man. If you’re a one night stand, he doesn’t mind sharing because he just doesn’t care about you. If you’re his lover, he’ll maybe try if you insist on a lot, but will fix a lot of rules, like the other man can’t kiss you or put their dick inside your pussy. Your pussy is his and only his.

E: Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Considering how much Kid cares about his reputation, he knows what he’s into doing in bed. Sure, during his first times, it was a bit messy, but he’s a fast learner and good at following his instincts.

He also has no shame to ask you to touch yourself, so he knows what you like and how to make you cum as many times at possible. 

Overall, Kid doesn’t have a lot of experience, I mean, he didn’t fuck with hundred of guys/women. But he’s not a virgin. He’s just really focused on his goal of becoming the PK and one night stand only happens from time to time. Considering how asocial he’s, I think he needs to feel a kind of connexion to have sex with someone, even if it’s just for one night. 

F: Favorite Position

Literally, any variation of doggy style. Kid is an ass man, so he wants and needs to see the ass he’s fucking. Plus, he’s a rough guy, with wild instincts and seeing someone all helpless, on all four awake his carnal desires.

The more helpless you are in front of him, the more he’s turned on. He likes to see your pussy and asshole clenching desperately, waiting to be filled. While he thrusts into you, he just loves seeing your ass giggled and leave some hand prints when he spank you. If he can tie your wrists or pull on your hair, then, it’s even better. Seeing you, your chest against the mattress and your ass up in the sky is his favorite view. Plus, he can see his cock thrusting inside of you, coat of your juice. What a delight. 

With his lover, he also likes matting press. Just because you always cry out, complaining about how big he’s and how deep he’s fucking you in this position. He’ll never stop looking at you and your flustered expression. 

As I said in the dirty secret, Kid also likes to leave all the work for you sometime. In this case, he’ll go with reverse cowgirl. He can see your ass, hold your hips with one hand, or just lay back and watch you bounce up and down desperately on his cock. Seeing his dick buried deep inside of you will make him growl of satisfaction. 

G: Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)  

Not goofy at all. Sex isn’t supposed to be funny for Kid. I think he can laugh, like while he’s teasing you, he’ll make fun of you, like "look at you, crying for my cock, you’re such a crybaby" but that’s all. Never, lord, never, you’ll hear Kid joking during sex.

If someone laughs at him during sex, then, he’s pissed off. With a night one stand, the mood is just ruined and he’ll leave. With his lover, he’ll get mad too, and also kinda hurt in his pride. He wants to make you feel good and cum at least once, so if you laugh at him, he'll think he’s not doing a good work. It will take a lot of time to reassure him after laughing at him.

H: Hair (How well-groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Lol, I don’t think someone will live after asking him such a question.

But the carpet matches the drapes. 

Honestly, I don’t see Kid as a very hairy guy. 

And it’s maybe an unpopular opinion, but I think Kid takes care of himself. I mean, his manicure and make-up are always nailed. So when it’s starting to be hairy down there, he’ll trim it and cursed during the whole process, but that’s just Kid, always cursing. 

I: Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

With a one night stand ? Zero intimacy. Just rough sex and two people trying to reach ecstasy. 

With his lover, Kid is still not a romantic. For him, sex is not a way to express his love, it’s just a way to make the both of you feels good. He doesn’t understand the making love, lovey lovey dovey, crappy stuff. Having sex with his s/o means something to him, but the romantic side of it just fly over his head. 

J: Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)  

Considering his huge sex drive, Kid masturbate a lot. 

If you’re around and in the mood, then, he’d rather fuck with you than jack off. But if you’re not there, or not willing to have sex, he’ll just use his hand.

Everytime he sneaks around alone, you can be sure he’s jacking off and his crew already walk in while he was giving himself a little self-care time. 

K: Kinks (One or more of their kinks)

Humiliation/Praises : Calling his partner a whore, a slut and feeling them tightening around his cock. He likes to see how flustered he can makes you with his words. But if you’re not into degrading stuff, he doesn’t mind using praises, like "look at you, taking all of my cock so well,  that’s my girl", "that’s it, just take it all", "you feel so good around my cock" , "your pussy tighten around my cock, it won’t let me go, you like my dick that much?", "be a good girl and stay still" Etc

And he expects you to praise him as well. Tell him how good he’s fucking you, how good his cock feels inside you. And call him Captain in bed and you will have a lot of orgasms. He’ll make sure of it.

Anal sex : As I said in his dirty secret, Kid likes how tight anal sex feels. It always makes you flustered and he needs a s/o willingly to do anal sex from time to time. 

Pain : Well, Kid likes rough sex, everyone will agree with this fact. He likes to slap your cheeks, your ass, biting your neck, choking you lightly, pulling your hair. And he also loves when you scratch his back, pull on his hair and even bite him. It will make his cock throbbing inside you. 

Public sex : Kid likes to fuck you in a public place, the risk of being caught is a turn on for him. It’s just so naughty and sexy in his mind. But let’s be honest, if someone caught the two of you fucking, he wouldn’t give two flying fucks and just continues to thrust inside you. Feeling you tightening your walls around his cock because of the embarrassment will even make him growl and pound harder.  

L: Location (Favorite places to do the do)

As long as he can fuck you, the place doesn’t matter. Most of the time, he’ll fuck you in the bedroom or in his workshop, with you bending over his desk. 

He also likes fucking you on the deck, it matches his public sex kink. He’ll bend you over the railing, so hey, it’s quite romantic, to watch the sunset and the ocean while he’s plowing into you like the wild animal he’s.

But let’s be honest, Kid will fuck you anywhere, anytime. This boy isn’t picky. As long as you give him your consent, the place doesn’t matter. 

M: Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

The rush of adrenaline after a hard battle. He’s just so horny after a fight 

Whenever he needs to release some anger or frustration 

If you tease him, especially around of people

If he watches you fight. It’s hot, to watch his lover fighting and it always makes blood rush down to his cock. 

If you wear his red coat. It flustered him, but also makes him horny. Same if you’re wearing one of his shirts. 

If you want to have the ride of your night, just wait for him in the bedroom, wearing nothing but one of his shirts wide open on your bare chest. Or wait, naked, with his coat on your shoulders. Damn, it will drive him crazy.

Seeing his lipsticks smeared on your face or neck. 

N: No (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything involving piss or shit. 

Sharing is caring, but if he ever accept to have a threesome, the guy will never have the right to fuck you. Your pussy belongs to him, and only him.

Being tied up. Kid hates feeling inferior or weak. If you’re his lover, he’ll only accept to be tied with something in metal, so he can take it off whenever he wants and take back the lead. 

Anything involving waters. He feels weak in it, even in the shower. He needs to feel powerful. 

Pegging is not a total no, but it will only happen with his lover and when the relationship is stable and long enough. He knows where his G point is, and please, he’s a punk, he LOVES non-conformism. But being vulnerable, laying on his back with his legs spreads or on all fours, his muscular ass up, chest against the mattress while you’re pegging him ? He really needs to trust his partner, because he’s afraid to ruin his reputation. Probably a bit overwhelmed and embarrassed at the end of the experience, but it was good. Please, reassure him than having that kind of experience has nothing to do with virility and that he’s still the dangerous and well-known Eustass Captain Kid. 

Roleplay : it’s so ridiculous and humiliating for him, he can’t. 

O: Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)  

A receiver, not a giver. Watching someone kneeling before him, sucking his cock, even gagging on it, damn, it’s just feel so good.

He bucks his hips, fucking your mouth. If you drool all over his cock, it’s even better. 

If you can deep throating him, it will make him cum really fast. His cock is big, not everyone is able to take his full length and girth. Just imagine this man losing his mind, cursing and throwing his head back while you deep throat him.

He, unfortunately, doesn’t go down on you often. But have you seen how this guy likes to show his tongue and lick his lips ? He knows how to use it, I can smell it. If you’re a one night stand, you’ll have to ask for having you pussy ate. 

If you’re in a relationship, especially if it’s the first time you two are fucking together, he’ll go down on you, lick your pussy and drink your juice, making sure you’re wet and ready for him. Go ahead, grab his head, pull on his hair, he likes it. Considering how stubborn he’s, he will keep going and only stop after you cum at least once against his lips. 

P: Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual?)

Fast and rough. This man is a beast. 

He always needs to release some anger or stress, so he’s always rough while fucking you. Even more with a one night stand. 

He doesn’t want to hurt you, still. But his pace will never be gentle and sensual. But he’ll adapt to whatever you’re able to take it. 

He likes hearing skin slapping against skin, sounds of your wet pussy, leaving bites on your body. For him, sex is messy and rough. 

I can only see two ways to force Kid to have slow sex : 

If you’re a virgin and a one night stand : he’s pissed off. He wants to have fun, not to be anyone first time and all the craps it involves. So just take your clothes and get out of here. Yeah, he’s mean.

However, if you two are in a relationship, he doesn’t want to hurt you and knows his pace is not adapted for a virgin. He will do his best to take you slowly, in missionary, holding back himself. He wants to make you feel good and as you continue to fuck together, progressively, your sessions will be more and more rough and messy. His strokes would be really long and deep, hitting all the right spots. Imagine him, with his jaw clenched, sweats dripping from his forehead, growling huskily, the muscles of his arms all tensed as he’s trying his best to not slam roughly inside your tight pussy. Damn. 

If you challenge him, like, betting he’s not able to fuck you slowly, this man will have the slowest pace ever, just to prove you’re wrong. At the end, he won the game and you’ll be frustrated by how slow and torturing his thrusts are. 

Q: Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)  

He likes quickie, but not that much. Let’s be honest, if you ask him a quickie, the answer will always be yes. 

But he prefers proper sex, because he’s always 100% implicating in what he’s doing, so he wants to fuck your properly. 

During quickie, Kid will bend you over something or carry you against a wall, skip any foreplay and just slams himself into you, his lips against yours to muffle your screams. 

R: Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Kid likes to experiment, but only with his lover. With a one night stand, he wants to be in control and proves how good he’s. If you ask him to do something he has never done, then, he’s not willingly trying.

If you’re in a relationship, he can try some stuff and fantasies, but don’t you dare laugh at him if he’s not doing great the first times you two tries something new. It will really hurt is pride, he gets pissed off and less inclined to try new stuff.

Concerning the risk of being caught, well, Kid doesn’t give two flying fuck. 

S: Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

His stamina is perfect, he can last for a while. Good luck. 

Even with his rough pace, he can last easily 20 minutes of intense pounding. 

You’ll be tired before him. He’s quite observant with you and will notice when you really can’t take much more. 

His sessions are intense and you always end up breathing harshly and sweating, with your legs shaking. 

Kid knows how to hold back, but you can make him cum quickly with anal sex or deep-throating. 

T: Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He hates toys. Are you saying he’s doing the job so poorly, you need a toy to cum ? Okay, he’s pissed off. 

If you want to have a toy during your solo masturbation session, then, feel free, he will gladly create any toy you want with his DF. But when you two are fucking, no toy. 

It hurts his pride.

The poor baby has a lot of pride.

Maybe he can have some fantasies, like a handmade vibrator. He’ll ask you to keep it inside you during the day and from time to time, he’ll use his DF and watch you trying to keep a cold face in front of others while the toy tease your G point. 

U: Unfair (How much they like to tease)

He likes to tease you, especially with dirty talk. Just because it always makes you tighten around his cock. 

He will also tease you a bit during foreplay. He loves when you beg for his cock.

But due to his lack of patience, Kid is not the kind of guy to tease during hours. 

In public, if he can’t fuck you, he gets frustrated and tease you as a way to release some frustration.

If you want to tease him, feel free, but he’ll show you absolutely no mercy later, pounding into you like a fucking beast and growling about how naughty you were earlier. And if you try to squirm, he’ll hold your hips and growls to stay still. You earned this, so shut up and take it. (But of course he’s not a total dick, if you need him to slow down or even stop, he’ll listen.) 

V: Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

This man can’t do anything in silence. Of course he’s loud.

He grunts a lot, talk dirty, spank your ass, all of the time. 

He doesn’t scream. Just grunt and curse a lot. Just imagine him, with his low, husky voice, grunting close to your ear. 

He likes to hear you scream or moan for him. So please, do it. The louder, the better. 

Tell him how good he's fucking you, how huge his cock is stretching your walls and Kid will be more than happy. He's a simple man, overall.

W: Wild Card (Random headcanon)

After sex, if you’re in a relationship, he falls asleep really fast… and even if he’ll never admit it, he likes to be the little spoon. Just hold him firmly and tenderly from behind and let him be the little spoon, please. 

X: X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants)  

Pale dick, pink sensitive head. A few veins along the shaft, but not that much.

Kid is a big and large guy, and considering how bold and cocky he acts, his cock is long and thick af, he needs the right back-up lol. He knows he’s big and he’s hella proud of his own cock.

Length around 17/20cm (7/8 inch). And the girth is scary. Good luck if it’s your first time. 

A shower, not a grower. 

His balls are proportioned to his cock size and heavy.

When he takes off his pants down for the first time in front of you, he’ll probably grins while watching your scared or excited face. 

Y: Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

High. Really high.

Kid is kinda always angry at something and he needs to release his frustration with sex. 

He can fuck you multiple times in the same day and still be ready for more. And his refractory period is really short, too. So good luck.

In a relationship, Kid needs someone with a huge sex drive too.

Z: ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Will snore 5 minutes after collapsing on top of you. 

After fucking you like a beast, he feels relaxed, his anger is gone (at least for now), same for his stress or frustration, so he’s sleepy. He’ll just clean himself quickly, or not, and fall asleep.

He doesn’t like pillow talk, but if you’re in a relationship, he’ll try to make an effort. 

If it’s a one night stand and not at home, he’ll leave and fall asleep once he’s back to his ship. 

[dreamingofep]

Behind the Curtain: A Sinned Awakening Story🩸

An AU Elvis fic

(Vampire!Elvis/ Vampire Austin! Elvis x reader)

Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Prompt: Getting promoted to be Elvis full time housekeeper, you realize the man holds secrets beyond belief and your undeniable attraction makes you tear the unknown. [Fem!Reader]

TW: Cussing, mentions of blood, SMUT,

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: Hello again! I have found some inspiration regarding Vampire!Elvis 🫣 I've had this idea for a while and thought to make it a stand alone one shot but why not make it part of the Sinned Awakening universe? I think it works well considering what goes on in this part😉 Elvis is on his worst behavior in this one... you've been warned hehe.

If you'd like to start from the beginning, start here or Ao3! hope you enjoy and message and comment what you think.

Las Vegas, February, 1974

You could hardly believe that it was a year, almost to the date, when you first met Elvis here in Las Vegas. It felt like another lifetime since you first saw each other and fought that undeniable attraction. Through struggle and heartache, you both could not deny the connection you had. Now you were a vampire too, madly in love with Elvis Presley. More in love than you thought was ever possible. He constantly reminds you of that fact too. How he cannot believe you are his and drowns you in his love. 

He was about to open his winter residency at The Hilton tonight. He was as usual, very nervous and couldn’t contain it. You tried to stay backstage to calm him down. He said you made him feel more relaxed when you were right next to him. But the other issue on hand tonight was that he hadn’t been feeding. He took rehearsing so seriously for these shows and put all his time and energy into practicing these last few weeks to make this the best show anyone has seen. You tried to gently remind him to take the time to feed but he always dismissed it. He would assure you he was fine and would feed later but of course, he wouldn’t. You can sense how hungry he was just standing next to him. He was trying to focus on getting mentally ready for the show but the overwhelming scent of blood from every human in the audience was driving him insane. 

It was almost time for the curtain to go up and you had to get to your seat. Jerry was waiting to escort you to the ballroom and take his seat with you. Elvis didn’t trust anyone anymore and was forever paranoid that someone would try to take you again. Even with you being a vampire and stronger than ever, he didn’t want to take a chance. So any show you went to, Jerry always accompanied you. He was always such great company and never complained he had to escort you anywhere. 

You tell Jerry you’ll be right there and quickly pull Elvis to the side. 

“Baby, are you okay?” You ask low, squeezing his hand. He looks at you nervously, his eyes darker than you’ve seen in a long time. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just nervous that’s all,” he says flatly. 

“I know. But you still haven’t fed have you?” You say bluntly. 

He looks down and shakes his head no. You reach for his face to look back at you. 

“It’s okay. You’re going to have an amazing show tonight. Just focus on me. If you can’t control your thirst up there, focus on me. That’s what I’ve always done and it always helps,” you try to assure him. He nods his head and smiles at you sweetly. 

“Then after the show you better feed,” you scold him. 

“I will. Thank you, baby,” he says leaning down for a kiss. 

You go walk with Jerry and take your seats in the center booth, your usual spot. The house was packed and was buzzing with excitement. There was a lot of anticipation for this engagement. The public was noticing a very different Elvis. He wasn’t the usual recluse who would avoid people at all costs. He wasn’t locked up in the penthouse for hours on end anymore. Elvis liked to be out and primarily show you off around town. It was a nice change. You were glad you could bring the more adventurous side out of him. 

The band starts to play the opening riff and the crowd bursts in applause. Everyone is on their feet including yourself, waiting eagerly to see him come from the wings of the stage. You hear his heart racing away and he takes a deep breath before stepping onto the stage. The audience somehow gets even louder when they see him emerge with his white fringe jumpsuit and green macrame belt. It even has your jaw on the floor. Something about seeing him on stage with the dozens of lights on him somehow makes him look more attractive. Hell, you had seen him naked but something about him on stage in a jumpsuit had you incredibly weak.

He picks up his guitar and puts the strap on around his shoulders. He grabs the microphone and pulls it toward him, spreading his legs slightly as he stands there. His voice booms through the speakers and sends chills through you. He was so electric without even trying. His leg won’t stop shaking and it only draws your attention more to those impossibly long legs. 

It was an hour of nonstop hits and some new songs he’d never performed live. He was just sensational. It never failed to amaze you to see him on stage and do what he does best. The crowd was rowdy and loved everything he did. How he would tease the audience, walking slowly to the edge of the stage to the screaming fans and quickly walking in another direction, leaving them begging for him. Or how he would move his hips in the most subtle of ways and leave everyone drooling for more, including yourself. You didn’t care how many times you saw him, there was no denying how that man would make you feel when he moved. You could feel the blood rush to your core if you thought about that for too long. You try to pull yourself together and not make it noticeable to Jerry that you are feeling a certain way about Elvis’ performance. 

Can’t Help Falling in Love starts playing and Jerry motions for you to follow him backstage. The gold curtain dropped and the crowd was going wild for Elvis. He kneels on the floor with one leg stretched out, along with his arms and his head bowed. It was quite the thing to see. The most simple act of showing his appreciation to his fans. He gets up off the floor and everyone from the band congratulates him on a great show. You wait patiently to greet him. He deserved to be acknowledged by everyone. After some time, through the sea of people, you see him there. His hair was wet and his jumpsuit clung to his body. Your eyes meet through the crowd and your heart hammers uncontrollably. His eyes lure you in and make you feel like a puddle. Oh God, you know what the look means…

He walks through some of the crew and goes straight for you. He picks you up and holds you tight. 

“Come here mama,” he whispers seductively in your ear. 

Goddamn it, he just can’t help himself, can he? He wants you to lose all control right here right now. 

“You were incredible honey! I couldn’t believe what you did up there,” you say as you hug him tightly. He sighs contently when he feels you pressed against him. 

You feel his hands tangle in your hair and pull you in by the nape of your neck. He kisses you fervently, igniting a blazing heat inside of you. You cling to his wet body, needing to be as close as possible to him. He starts to walk backward, his lips never leaving yours. He pushes back through the black curtain that separates the band from the storage area of the backstage. 

You quickly look around and see lots of sound equipment and storage containers for the band’s instruments. You glance back at Elvis and see that devious, dark, hungry look in his eyes. It makes you quiver. With a motion of his finger, he lures you in and beckons you to get closer to him standing in the corner. You willingly walk over to him feeling like putty already. His hair was an absolute mess and his chest glistened with sweat. He looked like he had just been fucked but you hadn’t laid a hand on him. Yet. 

He was impatient and pulled you in quickly, pressing you to his body again. You softly groan with the way he’s touching you, urgently and unrelenting. He starts to kiss your lips again, groaning when he does this. His whole presence has you drowning. He was so on edge and adrenaline still pumped through him after completing such a stellar show. 

You feel the hard concrete wall press against your back and Elvis’ hands squeeze any part of you he could touch first. He puts his hands on your hips and covers your face with kisses. Those lips will always leave you feeling breathless. 

He leans into your ear, “I’m starvin’,” he groans. Your heart hammers away by just that notion. 

You pull your hair to the side and expose your neck to him. “Go ahead baby, it’s okay,” you encourage him. You hear him take a deep breath in and suddenly feel him lick the side of your neck. You groan at the sensation and pull at his jumpsuit’s collar.

“I’m starved for all of you,” he groans as his hands go lower and brings your leg up to wrap around his hip. You feel his cock begin to get hard, pushing into your body and making you weak by the thought of having him.

He starts to ravage your neck with kisses, nipping and sucking at the spot where he wants to bite. You can’t help but get turned on by all of this, the way he was desperate for you was more than you could ever ask for. You feel his hands scrunch up your dress around your hips and his fingers find your aching bud. You gasp at the sensation and hold onto him tighter. 

“Elvis, oh God,” you moan. He doesn’t lift his head from your neck yet, he is still fully wrapped up in your scent while his hands find new ways to make you a weak mess. You then feel his fangs enter your neck and you have to sniffle the moan he made you produce. He makes satisfied grunts as he starts to drink your blood, holding onto you tighter and teasing you more with those fingers. He was enjoying every second of this. He lifts his head up and you watch as he licks the dripping blood that falls down his bottom lip. His eyes looked much brighter and he had more life in his face. But he still looked dangerous. He was looking at you like he wasn’t quite done. He wasn’t completely satisfied. 

You hold your breath as he looks at you like this. You’re unsure what to do or say right now. He takes a step back from you and eyes you up and down. You watch as his fingers start to unlace the jumpsuit. Your heart nearly stops when you realize what he’s about to do.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You whisper in a gruff fashion.

He doesn’t answer you, he just keeps looking at you like he did when you were human. You didn’t know it then, but he was on the verge of draining you when he looked at you like that. Lord, those heated looks should have killed you right then and there and they just might tonight. The laces were untied and he started to unzip the rest of the suit.

“What does it look like I’m doing baby?” He says low with a smirk on his face.

“Elvis right here? No, we can’t. Someone can walk by and catch us,” you panic, still hearing the hum of the crowd and chatter of the band members beyond the curtain.

He starts to shrug his arms out of the suit and looks down at how his cock is fully hard now, begging to be let out. God, you were a dead woman. You take one look at him and you’re ready to sink to your knees for him. He pulls down his jumpsuit a bit and you watch as his hand reaches in it to pull his cock out. 

“Elvis, please,” you whimper. You’re not sure what you’re asking him at this point but you can’t handle any of this.

“You’re gonna be a good, quiet little girl for me okay? That’s how we’re not gettin’ caught,” he says seductively. You can’t tear your eyes off of him, his whole presence right now is dominating and you love it too much to stop it. He takes your hand and has you wrap it around his length. Without even thinking much of it, you start to jerk his cock, watching the pleasure wash over his face. It was addicting to see him so turned on. It didn’t matter how many times you were with him intimately, you couldn’t contain the pure shock that went through you as you touched him and felt the size of him. The heat that came off of him was overwhelming and he was throbbing in your hand. 

“Fucking hell baby,” you gasp. 

“You’re gonna let Daddy fuck you right here,” he growls in your ear. You freeze, you had never done something like this and you knew you were not prepared for any of it.

“Take your panties off for me,” he commands. His voice made your core throb and you looked down at his length. Precum started to come out of him and you couldn’t think any rational thoughts. You pull his foreskin back and spread the sticky fluid all over his tip with your thumb. He grunts and pulls away from you quickly. 

He grabs your face in his hand to get you to look at his intimidating eyes and sharp fangs peeking out from his upper lip.

“I won’t ask again. Or do I have to rip them off with my teeth?” He growls. You whimper in agony, not ready for this man. 

Your silence speaks volumes and he lets out a frustrated grunt. He lifts up your dress and he starts to sink to his knees. He nips at your thighs with his fangs and draws blood. He licks at the wounds greedily and inches closer and closer to your core, leaving little marks of his fangs all over your legs. You open your legs a bit wider, hoping his tongue might pay a visit to your aching bud. But he wasn’t going to give you what you wanted, he was only going to do what pleased him.

You watch helplessly as he bites at the elastic of your panties and tears them off of you in one motion. He lets them fall at your feet and you tremble uncontrollably. He looks back at you with a hungry stare, not liking that you didn’t listen to him. 

“Always so difficult hmm? A good girl listens to me when I tell her to do something,” he hisses. You nod your head at him but it’s too late, you didn’t listen and you’re sure he’ll make you pay for it. He lifts you up and has you wrap your legs around his hips as you’re pinned to the wall. The grip he has on your thighs is tight and you can feel how bad he’s dying to fuck you. You feel the tip of him hover at your entrance and your eyes are blown wide, silently begging him for forgiveness. 

“Baby please, I-I-I’ll listen. I’ll be good.” You try to beg but he doesn’t listen.  

He swiftly enters you and you yelp at the forcefulness of his hips. You gasp for breath as he stuffs you with his cock. He quickly covers your mouth with his hand and continues to move inside of you. 

“Good girl,” he grunts, “Take Daddy’s cock like only you can,” he says with a devious smirk. Your eyes roll back in your head at his tone. 

He fills you hard and fast, giving you no time to adjust around his substantial girth. He revels how your sopping wet cunt hugs his length tightly with every thrust. You cling onto his shoulders and hold onto him for dear life. The only thing you can hear is the sound of you two breathing, trying to keep it together, and the sound of his cock plunging into your wet pussy. It was all torture. You wanted to move too but the grip he had on you was too tight for you to do anything. He takes his hand off of your mouth to watch your face drown in pleasure. He looks damn good like this. His hair was such a mess and was so concentrated on you. 

You’re stuffed to the hilt and his hips move in short, powerful thrusts, hitting that spot inside you that can make you come on his command. You can’t stay quiet. He was killing you and he knew it. His hips were unrelenting and driving into you like he had never had you before. You tilt his head to the side and sink your teeth into his neck, muffling the scream he’s made you produce. He groans softly at your actions, finding it all amusing that he’s made you such a mess. 

“Doing so good baby girl. You like how deep my cock is?” He groans in your ear. You dig your nails into his back, unable to handle what just uttered from his lips. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he chuckles. 

Each movement of his hips made you hold back loud moans you couldn’t help but make. You were biting down hard enough on his neck to draw blood and let the delicious taste of him coat your tongue. You slowly drink his blood and feel your orgasm looming. 

You take your fangs out of him and press your head to the wall, writhing in agony. You watch Elvis’ face smugly look at you and enjoy every second of this. You were so close to finishing, you felt your body become weaker and weaker with every thrust of his hips. Your ears suddenly pick up the sound of footsteps walking in your direction backstage. Your whole body freezes, petrified of someone walking by. 

“EP, you back here?” A man’s voice calls out. 

You look at Elvis terrified, you want to run away as fast as you can. He doesn’t let you budge though. He shakes his head at you and continues to hold you tight. 

“I could have sworn I saw him go back here,” another man said. You recognize it’s Jerry. Damn it, no. You claw at Elvis’ arms, begging him to stop. He moves slowly but it is still so agonizing and a small whimper escapes your lips. His eyes flash a warning at you and proceeds to put two fingers to your lips. 

“Shhh…Open those pretty lips baby,” he whispered. You helplessly do as he asks and he pushes his fingers into your mouth. 

“Suck baby and be quiet,” he says, his voice low and gruff. You eagerly do so and swirl your tongue around his long fingers. His face looks intoxicated from what he is seeing you do. You slowly suck on them, liking to see his reaction to this act. His eyes don’t leave you for even a second.

“Fuck, just like that honey,” he praises. His hips drive into you harder and your eyes roll back, feeling yourself about to come undone. He was unrelenting and on a pursuit to make you come regardless if people were walking around backstage.

He pushes his fingers further into your mouth and stuffs you to the brink with his cock. You come hard and your walls squeeze around the base of his cock. You see fireworks behind your closed eyelids and your whole body shudders. He can’t hide how good you feel around him and his jaw drops when he feels you come. He can’t hold on much longer either and burrows his face in your neck, hiding his own muffled groans. 

“Goddamn baby,” he growls. He thrusts his hips into you once, then twice and you feel his length twitch inside you. He pours his warm, thick load inside of you and groans into the crook of your neck. You gasp for air and your walls squeeze around him again, loving to hear how good he feels. He moves in and out of you slowly, making you both writhe because of how sensitive you are. 

He lifts his head up to see your spent expression on your face. He takes his fingers out of your mouth and goes to kiss you. It was passionate and sloppy and you loved it. You moan into his mouth and pull at his wet hair. You look into his beautiful eyes and see how he can’t get enough of you. He gently takes his cock out of you and sets you back on the ground. Your legs feel weak and cling to his body as you try to regain your normal breathing. 

He kisses the top of your head and makes a soft chuckle.

“You alright lil’ darlin’?” He asks coyly.

You look up at him with a mischievous glimmer in your eye. “Yes Daddy,” you say defiantly. Your hand wraps around his length and you slowly rub his head. You knew he’d be too sensitive to handle this and smirk to yourself. His hips buck into your hand and his face is shrouded in agony.

“Woman I swear to God-,” he growls. You stop briefly and hum softly.

“What baby? I'm being good, I swear,” you tease.

You pull down your dress and start to walk away from him with a smug smile on your face. You knew you got under his skin and you were amused by it all. You don’t make it very far backstage before you feel Elvis pick you up and throw you over his shoulder.

“Elvis!” You yelp. He chuckles low and makes quick strides to exit the backstage and into the elevator. He swiftly sets you down and presses the button for the penthouse. He smirks at you and takes your face in his hands as the elevator lurches up.

“It’s going to be a long night mama,” he murmurs, placing a kiss on your lips.

*

*

*

Tagging:

@neptuneismysister @velvetelvis @ccab @presleyenterprise @theresalwaysep

@prompted-wordsmith @sillybookmarks @dkayfixates @ellie-24 @rktismylife-blog

@myradiaz @tacozebra051

@thatbanditqueen

@flwrs4aust @emma181873

@austinswhitewolf @eliseinmemphis

@everythingelvispresley @chasingwildflowers @idontwanttoputanything. @ohjustpeachy_

@elvisalltheway101 @austinsmutler @kingdomforapony.

@generoustreemystic @claire-elvisgirl

@ashtag6887 @burnthheparaphilia @richardslady121

@jaqueline19997

@returntopresley. @iloveelvis @rimartin11@that-hotdog.

@louisejoy86 @misspresley @cattcb @annapresley8

@arrolyn1114 @raginginkedslut @epthedream69

@mh777ep1938

@50sexyshadesfashionista

@oldhOllywOod @hooked-on-elvis @livelovedilfs @sloppiest-of-jos

[bronx-bomber87]

Happy Wednesday my lovely readers. :) AH the post breakup ep. This one almost hurts more. It's most apt ep name of the entire season. ‘Crushed.’ Boy does this name hold up to what goes down in this episode. As much as it sucks what goes down with Blair. She was damn good at her job and this ep proves that. Lots of Tim analysis in this one as you all know is my jam. Eric and Melissa continue to crush us in this one. Phew. Let us begin.

6x07 Crushed

We start out strong with the soul crushing. Lucy’s necklace and DOD ring are noticeably absent. They know the fandom well to take away these objects. Of course we were going to notice them being gone. Hurts my heart to see it. Makes sense but doesn’t make it ache less. Our poor collective shipper heart. Granted the ring was her's long before Tim…BUT we all know what it represents. Her life being saved. Throwing it out in the hopes he would find it and save her. Represents him digging his bare hands into the earth to retrieve her from it. *sniffle* I’m fine….

Her necklace being gone is just a stark reminder of where we are with them. I hate it. The opening sequence is a gut punch to our feels. To Lucy’s too. Tamara is moving out. This also hurts to watch. The end of an era. Lucy is grasping at straws asking if she needs more time before she goes? Tamara asks if she needs her to stay? With the breakup and all? Lucy instantly say no. Even if she wanted to she'd never ask that of her. But it’s clearly upsetting Lucy watching her whole world being dismantled.

She went from having the love of her life with her daily, and Tamara living there, to neither of those things within a week. She literally blinked and her two pillars of support were gone. I adore her making dinner reservations for her though. Wanting to celebrate despite her current sadness. Tamara asks if Tim really got kicked out of Metro? Lucy immediately saddens and morosely replies ‘Yeah.’ Tamara being her protective self in her reply. I mean she isn’t wrong…But it brings Lucy zero comfort and it’s written all over her face. *sigh*

We go from one heartbreaking scene to another. Once again the punches not being pulled in the last 3 eps. I feel emotionally winded. For only having 10 eps they sure did pack them full of it. Which I was impressed with. We see Tim disassembling his Metro office. Hurts me to see it. Official time of death for Metro Tim is now. You all know how much I loved him in this position. I really hate this. Was more than him being fine af in that outfit. Was years of hard work flushed down the toilet *snaps fingers* Just like that. Really paints the picture of his trajectory downward after Ray.

I hate this on a personal level for him. The breakup is excruciating but adding this in is... It's salt into an already raging wound. Worst part is we watch him being stoic with Wade. Trying to pull all the company lines. Whatever will get him back on duty and Grey out of his hair. Luckily Wade isn’t so easily duped. He knows this man well. Been his superiors for years. Can see the grunt mentality Tim is displaying. Knowing how unhealthy it is. Grey lets him know Dr. London will be shadowing him. Tim is naturally upset about this.

This wasn't the work he meant lol Knowing exactly why this is happening. Wade doesn’t sugar coat it when Tim pushes back. Nor should he. Lists off the reasons he questions Tim's judgment right now. The reckless behavior that had him bounced out of Metro and back to patrol. Secondly breaking up with Lucy. Tim forgets this man watched over the years how Tim blossomed around her. Even more so when they got together. To toss that away is just as reckless as his behavior that lost him Metro. Tim is in a free fall atm. Grey is just trying to soften the landing when he comes back to Earth.

Tim being a lying liar who lies. Says him breaking up with Lucy had nothing to do with Ray. Oh my love you don’t really believe that do you? Because it has EVERYTHING to do with it. Was the catalyst to breaking all our hearts. It's clearly a tactic to get out of his ride along with Blair. The man as we know runs from and buries his feelings. Only person to ever get him to open up he’s shoved away at this point. Phew. This somehow hurts more the second to watch and dissect.

Wade stands his ground about the ride along. Saying if he wants to even begin to earn his trust back. It starts here. Otherwise he’s going to get mandated therapy. Which honestly I would’ve hated for him. Because therapy’s something you need to come to on your own. Not have it thrust upon you. So I’m glad Grey started out with this observation first. The man knows what he’s doing. Tim gives into his order of taking her with. Little does he know he’s going to end up doing both.

But that’s the beauty of this episode tbh. Once that is settled Wade slyly mentions he’s taking Lucy out. Tim being salty says for ‘Evaluating her too?’ I love Grey’s slick smile replying he’s just observing. Like I said earlier. The man knows what he’s doing. He’s also worried about them both. He knows how serious their relationship was. Probably thought their next step was marriage. So for it to be over he’s gotta do damage control. He’s the MVP of this ep.

This scene with Smitty still makes me blood BOIL. Months later and it still has me incensed with him. With that jackass too who was betting Tim cheated. How very fucking dare you nobody officer. If you knew Tim at all you’d know he would NEVER. Not ever. Neither of them would. It’s so degrading for both Tim and Lucy.

Also her and Aaron? Excuse me while I go vomit. I love how she dismantles Smitty. Straight up kills him. The shame on his face is something he deserves and more. This one of the many reasons people knowing was the worst. Because cops or not this was gonna feed the rumor mill. People gossip no matter the profession. Lucy telling him how wildly inappropriate this is. Honestly she should’ve reported his ass.

I would’ve. I'm crazy protective of them both. So I hated this scene for them. And for Lucy out of the two of them to find it ugh….Smitty promises he’ll shut it down right away. Damn right you will mofo….That scene still gets under my skin more than I would like. We were all in mourning as a fandom. So this scene lit my Italian rage up. Hated rewatching it. Made me sick to think of them gossiping about them. Still hate this whole thing. Doesn’t get easier with time.

The pain train continues forward with this next scene. The LAST thing Lucy needed in this moment was to bump into Tim. Especially coming off the heels of scolding Smitty. We see her rubbing her tattoo like no tomorrow. Trying to calm her raging emotions. She doesn’t even get a second to breathe, before running into the cause of her deep hurt.

Gotta commend Melissa and Eric for this awkward encounter. Lucy has zero time for this. Can’t even process what just happened with Smitty let alone this. Doesn’t stay in that corridor long. Poor Lucy almost stumbles over herself to get away from Tim. Shaking her head as he calls out for her. Rip my damn heart out some more why don't you writers? Good lord. Killing me softy. 5 minutes in and I’m a damn mess. Also what kills me in this scene how Tim lights up when he sees her.

Ugh you can’t do that after what you did Timothy. You stole her voice and her choice in that breakup. You can’t be surprised she doesn’t want to see you. You destroyed her in that parking lot. Decimated her loving spirit when you took off. Eric once again killing me with his expressions. His reaction after she all but dashes from him breaks my heart. This was self inflicted but hurts to watch none the less. To see them reduced to this awkward interaction is devastating.

I will say I adore Blair for coming right at Tim from the jump. Doesn’t wasn’t any damn time calling him on his crap. His person isn’t there to do it. So she is the next best thing. Well other the Angela. But he needed to hear this stuff from a professional. My sister can tell me something and it doesn’t resonate. My therapist does and it clicks. Idk why. Just does. Tim NEEDED this ride along just didn’t know it yet.

Doesn’t take her long to call Tim out for his decision to use Aaron as a buffer. Is reading him like a book she’s known for years. Saying he’s doing so cause he’s exhibiting classic avoidance attachment style. (Totally is...) Tim having not been in therapy is confused at her reply. She continues to depict him further. Explaining he prefers surface level over deep intimacy. Which is the case with everyone but Lucy…

She continues on to say it’s a defense mechanism. One that is developed due to an overly strict or domineering parent. Usually a father. Tim getting nervous already goes on the defensive. Like he always does when someone has him dead to rights. Did it to Lucy and Angela. This therapist is no different. Stating he isn’t a fan of this and there is going to be no over sharing. Ok love….

I do adore Grey for making sure Lucy is taken care of. We all know our girl isn’t going to take care of herself. Her and Tim are scary alike in this way. They’d rather take care of others than do any form of self care. So Wade is doing it for her which I love. He didn’t pick Tim he picked HER. He gave Tim what he needed with the therapist. Also we don’t get enough Lucy and Wade so I was all about this.

We know he’s worried because she’s taken hit after hit this year. Tim being the biggest blow of all. These other things were horrible but she had him. Her person. Her pillar. Now that’s gone and she’s losing Tamara to boot. She needed this ride along as much as Tim needed his. To say this season has been tough on her would be the understatement of the century. I’m hurting for her so much. Her entire world was ripped out from underneath her.

I think Grey can tell it’s pent up inside her. The constant ‘I’m ok and I’m fine.’ Are really cries for help. The awkwardness continues when they run into Tim getting ready for the day. Lucy extends the awkwardness inviting everyone EXCEPT Tim to Tamara’s farewell dinner. Well and Dr. London heh Who is watching this entire exchange go down. This shot from his cam feeling very intentional as he watches her invite everyone but him. A little shot at his soul watching this happen. He watches her depart sadly some definite longing in it. Oh Timothy you did this to yourself my love. Grey patting his arm as he follows Lucy out.

Lucy and Grey’s first call strikes a personal chord. Far too close to what she and Tim just went through. They show up to a couple fighting. The girl is losing her mind on him. Little stabs to the heart what this woman is upset about. Saying how she thought they were happy. How she thought he was the one. Then it just ended. How it doesn’t make sense. Ooof. My heart hurts.

I hate how relevant this call is for Lucy. Crushed is the theme through out this one. Apropos ep name if we’ve ever had one. Lucy then gets paranoid because she is feeling exposed in this moment. Feeling things she’s been suppressing gurgling up. Asking Grey if he set this up? That Tim just bailed on her. That their first call was about a woman being ghosted. I adore his reply. It’s Top Notch Wade Grey goodness.

Puts her in her place right away with that notion. But it’s very telling to him in this moment how much she needs this shift with him. The amount she has pent up is immense. The fact that she reacted the way she just did proves that. Her sensitivity level is sky high atm. Lucy’s reply when they get back in the car is hilarious though. Much needed levity in a tense moment LOL ‘It’s my bad.’ Hahahaha oh Lucy Chen never change. We love you so.

Dr. London hits the ground running with the case they have. Aaron bringing up it’s always the boyfriend right? When it comes to missing cases like this? It’s here Blair inserts her like about breakups. It’s SPOT ON. Say what you will about her as a person but she was damn good at her job. At zeroing in on someone and what makes them tick. What is holding them back. And her line about breakups is just that for Tim. Stating it’s a trigger for many men. How stereotypical gender roles prevent them from seeking help. It gets under Tim’s skin instantly. I’m sure she said for a few reasons.

First because It’s an accurate statement for most men. Sad but true. Two because she feels this fits Tim perfectly and his current situation. And lastly to see how he would react. Which of course is defensively, but she’s methodically chipping away at his wall. That statement is not only this situation. But it’s Tim’s entire life. His father called him. ‘Poor little Tim-Tim.’ This was not a term of endearment but a mockery of his feelings. For even having them let alone expressing them. To have feelings was shameful and to act on them even more so. Looked at Tim with disgust and disappointment for it.

That scene in 4x09 in his father's hospital room was a painful glimpse into his childhood. To how he was treated for ever being emotional or needing help. So of course he’s not going to reach out for help. It’s deeply ingrained in him not to do as such. Breaks my heart. Grew up the same way. Being pegged as ‘Sensitive’ or mocked for what they perceived as emotional tantrums. When I was just a little person with emotions and didn't know how to regulate them. I was emotionally imbalanced because of my parents. Just like Tim is cause of his father. Blair is testing the water with her theory and striking gold in this moment. Quite the opening volley from her.

Grey starts on his own inquiry into how Lucy is. Clearly needing to since she exploded at their last call. Asking if she’s talked to Tim since the breakup? She is brief and just replies nope. Although her reply is brief her emotions are not. Just hearing his name is springing up tears to her eyes. Melissa aiming to do the same to me in this scene. Straight killing me at how damn sad she looks. I hate it so much. Lucy follows it up with saying she thought he didn't care about her personal life?

Oof giving me Tim flashbacks to 3x08. When she was questioning why they were talking about her personal life? Grey's answer obviously different in this instance. Telling her he cares if it affects her job. I mean he is Watch Commander. This is a valid thing to worry about. Also part of the reason for this ride along. To gauge where she is at and how it’s affecting her on the job. Grey connects the dots of Tim’s IA investigation and their breakup. Knowing it’s not a coincidence.

Tells Lucy as such that he can’t help but wonder if there’s a connection. I mean obviously there is. He’s just not going to get that out of either of them. He failed earlier with Tim. Also it's not the connection he think's it is. I do love her instinct to protect Tim regardless of the hurt. Was pressed and she doesn’t budge. That is a natural thing for her bad place or not. Lucy may not fully understand the why of it all. But she would never cast suspicion on him due to it. She just loves him and will protect him even when he has no idea. I’m not crying you are….*sniffle*

Lucy reinforces the idea it was nothing of the sort. That it was just weird timing that’s it. Then she goes into analysis mode. Which is her form of defense mechanism IMO. If she can try to understand it. Figure out the why. Maybe she can start to heal from it. Not have it drown her every single day. Lucy chalks it up to Tim not being emotionally available. I mean that is definitely part of the problem…

He is a disaster zone of a person right now. He’s occupied mentally in a way she has no idea about right now. At this point in time Tim doesn’t even know this about himself. Only that he wasn’t deserving of her love, that he is too toxic, and she’s better off without him. Has no idea how deep the rabbit hole goes for him. Neither does Lucy. It shows how painfully in the dark she is about what went down.

The sports comment is pretty comical though. I mean I totally get being emotional about sports. The Rangers ruined my mood for awhile when they were booted from the playoffs in June. We made it deep into the playoffs too. So I get the hurt. Regardless it’s a funny reply from Grey. Makes Lucy smile too which is a win right now. The look out the window had me cackling haha I love it so much. We need more of them.

Dr. London continues her barrage on Tim and I’m here for it. It’s the only way he responds to emotional stuff. Also I think Blair realizes if she doesn’t come at him hard, she won’t gain any ground with him. Doesn’t hold back when she compares Tim and Lucy to her line about how platonic love. How their's started out as a friendship and blossomed into so much more. *heart clutch* Eric kills me in these shop scenes.

We can feel and see the emotions he’s choking back. The sadness in his reply of ‘I was her T.O.’ He can feel the rush of emotions flooding in so he sends Aaron away. Tries to ward her off by saying he knows what she’s doing. Blair is getting under his skin quickly and he can feel the heat of it. She is poking at a raw nerve and it’s very evident. The looks on his face through out this scene make me wanna cry. Dr. London reminds him breakups evoke anxiety and depression in men.

Tim being Tim tries bravado this time. Saying he’s not depressed. (Ok babe…) That he’s the one who broke up with her. Trying to deflect but it isn’t working on her. Blair doesn’t relent and replies yes he did. BUT she can tell he has immense guilt around doing it. Which we know is true. He feels horrendous for breaking his person's heart. It’s eating at him like a cancer. Exuding out him so much he can’t use his usual tactics to hide it from her. She see's right through him. Like he's glass and she's peering in for a look.

Dr. London continues her pegging of him with this next part. My god does she have him dead to rights. Not only that but she’s getting through. She can’t see his face but if she could she would see it. Eric is masterful once again with his expressive emotions. We watch the range of emotions in this portion. Especially with his eyes. Always the eyes. She really hits home with her analysis of him. You can see it seeping in. I’m so bummed there isn’t a set of this scene. It’s so so good.

Bringing up how internalizing guilt and shame leads to self directed anger. If that isn’t our boy in a sentence. Sweet baby James. The part about self directed anger is this man to a tee. An absolute tee. The way he’s soaking in all her info has me deep in my feels. That guilt she mentioned is pouring out of him in this moment. Along with the shame and anger that is starting to build as well. The anger is because she draws a HARD line in the sand about this eval.

That if she can’t tell if he isn’t self destructive by EOD she’s gonna sideline him. How he can keep stonewalling her if he likes but it’s only gonna end in a psych eval. It is a rough way to come at him. But he needs it so badly. Lucy isn’t here to knock it into him. So I’ll be forever grateful Blair was. He of course reverts back to S1 Tim when Aaron re-enters. Snaps at him because he can’t handle the emotions coursing through him. So he takes it out on poor Aaron. What she said has hit very close to home. Sadly Aaron get the repercussions of that.

We go back to Grey and Lucy talking about Tamara. Their case involves a girl being scooped up from babysitting. Has her worried and Grey can tell. I adore him telling her what she’s done with Tamara is wonderful. That Lucy showed her unconditional love. The kind that healed her skeptical heart. Made her wanna launch back into the world due to it. It’s here Lucy circles it back to Tim. With her line about letting people you care about go. How could she not? It’s consumed all her thoughts for days and days. Grey picks up on it immediately. Asking if they’re still talking about Tamara?

This launches a Lucy rant of epic proportions. One I don’t think Grey is even close to be accustomed to lol She is finally ready to unload the emotional burden on her soul. Her reaction here is just further proof she had no idea why Tim did what he did. Also probably has zero idea he got half his unit killed. Bringing on his episode of self loathing. Which prompted the breakup. Saying she has no idea what happened to them. That she can’t stop thinking about it. Girl me too. It consumed a lot of my waking hours in that three week hiatus as well. Only difference is I got to know WHY Tim did it.

It didn’t make it less painful but it helped to know the why. This is where Lucy and I are a lot like. Needing to know the why helps me accept things. Otherwise I go insane. Like I stated earlier her defense mechanism is analysis. She was so damn blindsided by this. Her brain hasn’t caught up to any possibilities of why. Lucy was left in the dark from 6x05-6x06. Only let in with what I can assume was minimal surface level info about Ray. Otherwise her analysis brain could figure out why he did this if she knew EVERYTHING. If she did know she could cobble together exactly the why behind his reasoning.

Lucy going off saying she thought their relationship was worth more. The 'Unless it is.' haunting her. Haunting us all. I couldn't look at happy gifs for a long time.....She thought what they had was worth more than a cheap cop out. It was very cliched how he put it. Which was intentional I'm sure on the writers part. Made it seem like it was a cheap way out of their relationship. Clearly we know it’s SO much more complex than that. But she doesn’t know any of that. Which continues to leave her in the dark and it's painful to watch her struggle with that. I just want to tell her. *screams into a pillow* Instead of having a say in it Tim made the decision for her and it pisses her off.

As it should. It pisses me off. He took her voice and right to an opinion with their breakup. That is something he’s going to have to make up for. Lucy deserved so much better than how that breakup went down. She does deserve to be the one who decides if she wants better. Which she didn’t get to. Nor did she want better. That man was IT for her. And she is thought she was the same for Tim. It’s why her line about struggling with him letting go so easily hurts. Honestly It’s what adds another layer of tragedy to this whole breakup. The miscommunication even in the breakup itself is unreal. Lucy finishes off her rant perfectly though.

Saying even if she wanted total self destruction it was her damn life. Her friggin decision to make that call. Tim straight robbed her of that. Not only did he but left her holding the emotional bag afterward. It’s not right and it’s not fair. Our girl deserved so much better than how he handled that breakup. He has a lot to make up for in s7. But he knows that just not right now…Grey’s face to finish off the scene is everything. Knowing she needed to get that off her soul. That this is why he didn’t want her riding around solo today. This was a much needed spiral in a safe place. So well done Wade. Our girl needed this.

Blair doesn’t even have to wait for an opening in this next scene. Tim jumps in to defend himself about eviscerating Aaron. Saying it’s his style. She continues to read Tim like a frigging book. This is my favorite scene of the episode for him. Just because it’s so telling. Eric is incredibly expressive as she breaks him down. He feels trapped but also can’t deny what she’s telling him. Her assessment is out of the world good.

Another beautiful thing about this scene is she is attacking his problem at it's damaged root. Blair tells him he’s under a lot of stress it's clear. Not just the case though. Saying whatever went down between him and Ray must’ve been real bad for him to lose Metro. To be back on patrol. Tim doing his old move of deflection. Saying how he owns mistakes and moves on. Well he has half of that right… Our boy definitely owns his mistakes. Moving on is a whole other issue.

Dr. London is moving in for the kill at this point. Saying but he hasn’t moved on. How can he when his whole identity is wrapped up in acting honorably? Damn she has him pegged. If he could truly move on. Be solid in that statement we wouldn’t be here. If he could really reconcile with the past he wouldn’t have ended it with Lucy. He feels not worthy and very much not honorable enough to be with her. So he cut ties. *sad sigh* Tim cloaks himself in honor then condemns himself when he falls short of it. Which is why he can't move on. Just adds another pebble to his soul as it were.

Blair continues with her spot on assessment. Her guess being that has taken a devastating effect on his self esteem. We know it has. His entire life he hasn’t felt worthy or deserving. Has has always had the lowest self esteem about himself. Because mistakes were failure growing up. Mistakes of any kind. Which isn't ok. A healthy and good parents loves you through them. Teaches you there are lessons in mistakes. That it’s not the falling down it’s the not getting back up that’s failure. This man has been knocked down more times than I can count.

He got up every single time. Which is incredible and grew him to be resilient af. Sadly to Tim it’s the falling down that is failure. He never saw his getting back up as a positive thing. Just saw it as surviving and it was partly. He didn't see the goodness in getting back up because his father never did. He grew up in a household where mistakes were pain. Whether it was physical or emotional it was abuse for said mistake. Didn't matter what it was. So to Tim if he set high standards for himself. If he acted honorably his chances of mistakes or failure would decrease. (In his mind at least)

The problem with that is he’s human. We’re all human and fall short of expectations. No one set his except him. Hell I just dealt with this writing this review. I set this insane expectation of when I should've been done writing it and I didn't hit it. I was mad at myself for a expectation only I had set. It's the same for Tim. Whenever he fell short of being ‘honorable’ in his mind. It dinged his already fractured self-esteem. To the point where he has none. Lucy rebuilt it over the years. But it goes to show you how little he thinks of himself. That Ray coming back toppled all of that. Imploded it really in a matter of days.

She really brings it home here. Her pièce de résistance as it were. This is where Tim goes from huh? To Oh…Blair notes it’s why he’s been punishing himself. This catches Tim off guard because he’s truly confused. Like I said earlier I don’t know even know Tim knew the deep why of their breakup. He for sure had no idea he was doing this specifically. No doubt in my mind he had zero idea he was punishing himself. I didn't know I was in the story I'm going to use here in a bit.

Now he knew he wasn’t worthy. Knew he didn’t feel deserving of her love and comfort. Because he had acted so dishonorably. To Tim there’s no way she could love him after that. He projected 'Rules matter Boot. 'their entire relationship. Long before they got together. To Tim he created this infallible image of himself to her that he fell short of.

One he tried to instill in her as a cop. Yet he failed to do so. He couldn’t look at himself let alone make her do as such. That's what he understood about what he’d done. Which is insane cause she met him at his worst and still saw his good heart. But that's a rant for another time and place ha Suffice to say it was standard he was holding himself to that she wasn't. I get this so much it pains me.

Blair soldiers on in her explanation. Letting him know he’s depriving himself of something he loves. Something that brings him joy. I know this tactic all too well. I mentioned this in my mini. But feels appropriate to do so again in terms of relation. I do this myself. Tim and I are very alike it scares me honestly. When I fail at something I punish myself too. I feel I’m getting better at this. But this story is pre-therapy Caitlin lol.

Anyways I did this with my last job. I wasn’t good at it right away. I was close to being fired actually. My leader at the time was confident in my game plan to fix myself. I however was intent on punishing myself for being awful. I was mad I had failed in the first place. Pissed at myself for not being good right away. This clearly being the result of my childhood. Where I wasn’t allowed to make mistakes. If I did it resulted in emotional abuse in the form of the silent treatment. So going into adulthood I still held myself to higher standards than anyone ever set for me.

When I fell short of those standards I punished myself. So with this new job I denied myself music. It was something I loved dearly. So in turn until I got my act together I didn’t listen to it. Didn’t felt I deserved till until I rectified my mistake. My boss found out and told me not to be so hard on myself. That there was no need to punish myself. I hadn't even realized that's what I was doing till she said that. I still was hard on myself but allowed her faith in me to let myself listen to music again. It ended up being what saved me.

This is why I relate so hard to him doing this. Because I did it. My whole life. Tim doesn’t even realize till now he’s punishing himself this way. He’s denied himself his person. What brings him the most constant joy in his life? Lucy. Who is the radiant sunshine that made his life better? Lucy. So. In turn he is denying himself the one person he feels he doesn’t deserve. Punishing himself by denying himself her presence, he is simultaneously depriving himself of the happiness their relationship brings him. We know how happy she's made him. The highest form of penance is sacrificing that. Oh my broken boy.

I love her saying 'Or more accurately someone.' She saw what went down at the kit room. How Tim longingly looked at Lucy when she departed. Knows this man is still so in love with her. It’s obvious he hasn’t made this connection himself till she says this. We see it dawning on Tim. Her getting through to him. We watch as this hits Tim square in his chest. Or really his heart. She has struck a deep chord and it shows all over his reaction. Especially in the second gif. Tim is holding back actual tears as it hits him.

Ugh my heart. Damn you Eric. As quickly as he comes to this realization Aaron re enters the car. Tim has to readjust and adapt back to hard ass. Was bummed couldn't fit this in but he struggles with it. Aaron is smart enough not to ask if he’s ok twice… I do remember being excited by this scene. Because I felt it would propel him toward therapy. To knowing he needs help. All the signs can be there but you have to see the need for it. I'll be forever grateful to Dr. London for helping him see it.

Lucy spotting Tim and touching her tattoo. Melissa you’re killing me. But also don’t stop. I love that you do that. It makes me wanna cry though. Because we all know why she reaches for it. It’s to remind herself she’s a survivor. The only problem is that idea came from Tim….That entire grounding exercise is wrapped up in him. So it’s painful she has to now use it about him. It’s beautifully tragic and subtle.

Which is why it hurts so good. Mostly hurts atm. Until they’re reconciled anyways. It PAINS me to see how awkward they are with one another. To go from being so damn linked to this disjointed mess….I hate it so much. Eric and Melissa do it so well though. The body language and the nervousness pouring out of them. Lucy wanting to start something but not knowing where to begin. At a loss for words.

Tim doesn’t help her at all. Just stands there like an awko taco. That lyric ‘I’ve never been a fighter.’ Ringing through the silence. Ugh the music attacking us once again in the best way. This song is so good for this moment. I truly think having listened to it enough times now. Feel it’s Lucy POV with these lyrics. Which I’ll delve into more in the side notes. This entire scene just hurts. Like poking a unhealed wound.

I have to note this gif separately. Said this a lot this ep but damn you Eric. His precious little smile here is killing me softly. He’s spent the entire ep on pins and needles. Avoiding his feelings. Lashing out at everyone around him. Then being hit with some serious realizations. Then he sees sees Lucy and it appears. That Lucy smile of his. But he forgets he can’t be flashing that adorable smile to her anymore. He lost the right to find comfort in her presence when he walked away from them. From her.

The smile also kills me because he’s so in love with her. Look at that man above. It’s written all over that smile. It hurts to watch. I saw a great tag for this gif. ‘idk what hurts more his little smile or his shining eyes.’ Honestly? Both. They both hurt….Once again he has no right to be showing her those in love eyes paired with tears. Only hurts her more. Hell it’s killing me. It pains me he’s punishing them both for this spiral. This scene hurts so much but starting out with this smile. *sigh* I'm dying Timothy. You've killed me.

Truly blinded by his own shortcomings at the start of this scene. Thought he could just jump back in there and be normal. That there’s no way she loved him like he loved her. So she would be more normal and ok after their break up than him. My broken Timothy you hurt my heart on so many levels. Not only that but makes a joke about clocking out. He's nervous in his delivery of it too. Which he should be. He exploded them and is making small talk? Oh Tim. No....

Lucy calls him out instantly for it. I adore her for the stand she takes here. Not only not letting hide in small talk but getting her side in finally. Refusing to let him force normalcy on them when they never had a real talk. An actual adult convo. Insulted he wants to hide in chit chat. No matter the place they’re in Lucy is always going to tell him like it is. We all know he loves her for it even when it hurts like hell like this scene does.

Lucy reams him like she should. Letting out all the emotions she never got to express. Also what she’s been stewing on. Telling him what she has been holding onto the past week. Saying how he’s been so concerned with what she deserves. That he BLEW past them even having an adult conversation. Which he most definitely did. Also it saddens me the physical distance in this scene. They’re never ever that far apart. Very telling of where they are right know. I hate it.

You can see the discord between just by their physical distance. What kills me is she gives him a chance to rectify it. To have that convo. Tim deflects because the man is no where near ready for that kind of conversation. It reflects in his reply. He only continues to see he isn’t worthy of her. You are everything she wants you foolish man. He doesn't have a damn clue with that though. So he continues to push her back. Away from him and his turmoil.

It’s here I’m so proud of Lucy. She stands her ground and sets a boundary. Which is not easy BTW. It's insanely hard. Telling Tim he has a lot more to work on that she realized.... That she wishes him good luck with that. But she clearly isn’t the person to help him anymore. *heart clutch* My heart is on the ground again. I get it though. She is stepping away from him and how nuclear he is. It’s such a good boundary to set for herself. For her sanity really.

Another great quote from that book mentioned last ep. “A boundary is our only fighting chance at reclaiming our peace.” It’s the only way she can regain any semblance of peace. To move on from this and heal. Have couple more that are so appropriate here. “People who are irresponsible with our hearts shouldn’t be granted great access to them.” Tim hurt her heart so greatly. Betrayed her trust so deeply. This boundary is to protect herself. But also to keep Tim from having the access he once had. It's easy to see he isn't budging so even if it pains her she has to create distance for herself.

Final one “Love can be unconditional but access doesn’t have to be.” Lucy still loves that man unconditionally but can’t allow him to access her heart anymore. She gave him one last shot and he blew it. So she retreated like she should when he denied her. Does kill me she is clutching her tattoo end of this scene as well. It's what keeps that boundary in place and her feet moving forward. Breaking my heart all over again in an instant. I'll just be sobbing in the corner no big deal...

I was pleasantly surprised when we got another moment in Grey’s office. Thinking that was the end of it. I was hoping against hope Tim wanted to reach out and get help. This scene delivers in spades on that. Tim fully expecting to be mandated therapy. We can see he’s actually disappointed when she has a good review of him. Reporting it won’t affect his work. I’m glad she did because it’s prompts Tim to advocate for himself in this moment.

To say I’m proud of him is an understatement. To not only see he has work to do but reach out for the help to accomplish that. The relief this made me feel is immense. Tim says he was expecting her to say he had a lot of work to do on himself. Grey opens the dialogue asking if he does? Tim says he thinks so…Such a huge step for him. I could cry. Hell I was misty when this scene happened. Tim then asks what Grey thinks of him seeing her regularly?

Wade's reply makes me heart so happy. That it takes a lot of courage to ask for help. It really does. There is nothing scarier than asking for help. Especially with your mental health. Men have it easy in a lot of ways IMO. This is not one of them. They are told not to have feelings, or anxiety, god help them if they mental health issues. Tim coming to this place is incredible. This is a milestone scene for his character. I loved the writers tackling mental health this year. For doing it with Tim too. I could cry at how proud I am for him reaching out. For realizing something is amiss and knowing he needs to fix it.

As if this episode wasn’t making me cry enough. This final scene with Tamara gets me teary. Other than Tim and Lucy they’ve been my fav. Been beautiful to watch them both grow. It helped Tamara heal her untrusting heart. That unconditional love Lucy gave her never wavered. It helped rebuild her faith in people. In herself. I know it helped Lucy heal from Jackson. To show her to open her heart again after losing him.

They healed one another and it makes me emotional writing about it. They’re sisters and family all wrapped up in one. Hard to watch Lucy lose another piece of her life though. Truly hope this pain and loss helps her grow. If there is anything I've learned in therapy is that. Growing through the pain. I hope s7 treats her kindly after this harsh season. It’ll be make all the hurt she goes through so much better. I’ll be fascinated to see how s7 starts for her. How it progresses.

Where she’s at emotionally and mentally. My heart hurts for her in this season. So very much. I can’t even explain the level of ache I feel for Lucy. Our girl deserves the world and more. I hope she explores herself more next season. Tunes into how she doesn’t tend to take care of herself. Think she is on a growth journey of her own. It starts here though. I’ll be excited to see how s7 plays out for her. The end. of this scene is funny. Lucy begging her not to tell the car story at dinner LOL

This is gigantic growth right here. Coming here like this. Telling Dr. London that he was thinking on all she said. He is going against his better nature and reaching out. Admitting something is wrong and doing something about it. I know how hard it is to reach a place where you do this. What’s so beautiful about this development is Tim seeing he needs help. It's why he's here. He can feel something inside him is broken. He doesn’t know how to fix it so he is reaching out to someone who does. Tim can tell something is wrong and just wants to fix it.

To understand why and to get better. It is not a light decision to start therapy. It really isn’t. I ran away from my feelings for years. Damn near a decade really. Made light of the abuse I had growing up. Would crack jokes about it even. Because that was my defense mechanism. It was easier than dealing with what really happened to me. Ignoring how emotionally unstable and imbalanced I was due to it. I spent most of my 20s running away from help. From therapy. When it was brought up to me I would shoot it down like Tim. Call it nonsense and how I didn’t need it. I was also like Tim (Still am. WIP over here) and wrapped my identity up in the same stuff.

Being so fucking harsh on myself it was unreal. I still struggle with giving myself grace. I feel I’ve gotten better but it’s still a daily battle. It’s hard to explain the feeling you get when you know you can’t out run your demons anymore. There is just something that goes off inside you like an alarm. It tells you it doesn’t feel right, that you don’t know how to fix it, but it is time you ought to. All I know is it is different for everyone. What set me off is very different from Tim’s. His was a past mistake that came with a side of buried trauma.

Mine was a kind comment meant to make me feel good. Also some buried trauma. I was helping this sweet old lady who was a client of mine. She noted the earrings I was wearing and said they were nice. Told her my mom gave them to me with no emotion in my tone. I’ll never forget the sweet look in her eyes as she told me ‘Your mother must love you very much.’ What should’ve been a nice comment was a huge trigger for me. My mother is some of my deepest seated trauma. It set me off like nothing ever has before.

Her saying that unlocked this pandoras box of emotions. One I spent nearly a decade suppressing. I got into my car afterward and cried. I texted my sister telling her I think it was time I got help. I felt something was wrong. Wrong enough to do something about it. My repressed emotions had clawed to the surface for air. I couldn’t ignore them anymore. I had to get help. Something was broken and I needed the help to fix it. So that brings us back to Tim in this moment. To why he is standing here right now before Dr. London.

He tells her she is right. That he is mad at himself. We can see the realization just wash over Tim. Like he’s opening his eyes for the first time in forever. We can also see the disappointment on his face when she says tomorrow. He is wanting to talk about this right then and there. I’m same way (shock surprise I know.) Blair sees this and asks if it’s an emergency? Tim doing what he does best says no. Trying to do the “honorable” and not burden her with his needs. Because it’s easy to see yourself as a burden to everyone when you’ve been treated like one most of your life.

It’s what makes Tim digging deep and saying no I need this now below so massive. Watching him advocate for himself *sigh* I wanna cry. Because this scene is HUGE for him. I remember thinking to those who were hating on him at the time. If you can’t grasp how groundbreaking this is. You don’t get his character at all. Nor have you ever struggled with mental health issues or asking for help. Anyone who was nasty about his mental health made me so mad. To be that cold and insensitive meant to me you were emotionally immature yourself. I'll die on that hill happily.

If you need help understanding Tim in this moment or this episode please use my experience. What happened with me and what it took to bring me to therapy. Because they are similar. That is this man in this moment. Realizing Ray resurfaced all his demons. They came up for air and weren’t going away this time. Just like mine. This is Tim’s ‘Come to Jesus’ moment in regard to his mental health. He’s standing here because everything Dr. London told him rang true. Hit a chord inside him it was time to get right.

The thing is he doesn’t know how to handle it. Which is why he is reaching out like this. I do wanna say Lucy got him to a better place for him to do this. S1 Tim wouldn’t have reacted this way to Dr. London. Not at all. I don’t wanna forget the impact she’s had on him. But this is not Lucy’s problem to fix. She even stated that in their scene together. She is not the one which sucks. But this is not her journey to be on. A healing journey is a very personal and vulnerable thing. It’s one you have to do by yourself. (And with your therapist)

My friends and family helped prep me for mine. I’m so grateful for that. To get me to place where I could see I needed the help. But it was up to ME to take that first step. That's what this scene represents for Tim. Taking that ever so painful and scary first step into healing. Tim can see the work he has to do and that is progress. I truly truly hope he continues therapy in s7.

Despite Blair. I’m so excited they went this path with him. Didn’t just try and fix them and gloss over the fact he needs help. Appreciate the proper care they took with this SL. It also may not have felt like it at the time. But it’s paving a path of healing for them in the future. Tim’s head right will be best for them when they heal and reunite. Phew This was a doozy to tackle. I hope you all enjoyed it. And those who didn’t read my mini can see Tim’s POV and the WHY of everything. As I’ve said many times it is not to excuse but to explain.

Side Notes-Very Much Chenford

This will be Chenford related . I wanted a section to go over this glorious song 'The Ventura Exit.' Just wasn't room in the review to do it. So I'm doing it my side notes. More I listened to it the more it was perfect for this episode. Especially with what Lucy's is going through. It feels very much from her POV. The lyrics hit so much and have to be acknowledged IMO. First couple are just angsty musings from the song. They clearly aren't canon but evoked these thoughts in me. Others felt more canon driven.

"The first night I woke up four times on your side of the bed." This lyric could be said of the both of them. But this makes me think of her reaching out to his side in middle of the night. You know she probably still had on and off nightmares about DOD. Reaching out to him being a default for her. I could see that first night of their breakup this happening. This song put stuff in my head I had to get out lol

"Fighting muscle memory expecting a hand to be there when I reach out. Taking the Ventura exit to your house." This song is playing through out the rest of the episode. You can hear the lyrics if you really listen. I'm sure she fought the auto pilot to his house during that week as well. I know we only see them at her place but you know she was over there a lot too. Probably had her own drawer and all that. "I don’t hate you, but the more I think on it you let me down (You couldn’t see me. You stopped believing)" This encapsulates everything in this episode for Lucy. She doesn't hate him but he let her down SOOO much. He couldn't see her in their fight. He stop believing in them. Believing in her. So heartbreaking how perfect this song is. I wanna cry. "I miss you, I miss you, I’ll never forgive you. I wish I was with you I miss you I miss you I’ll always forgive you." I loved it ending on this lyric. Starts out with anger and never forgiving then it does. Because that is true of Lucy. She misses him so much but is so damn angry with him. But wishes she was with him. Which is why the ending lyric being that gets. me in the feels. We know she'll always forgive him. She loves this man too much not too.

I believe that's what we'll see in s7. Especially with him working on himself. That and giving her whatever doses she allows for him to show how much she means to him. This lyric made me hopeful for the first time since 6x05. If you don't have this song I highly recommend buying it. Not only is is perfect for this episode and them. It's just a REALLY good song. You can listen to it in full in the link I posted though. Thank you for all the likes, comments ( I LOVE comments don't be shy ha ) and reblogs. You are the reason I do these. I shall see you in 6x08 :)

[captainsophiestark]

Weekend Plans

Jason Todd x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: DC

Summary: Jason's SO finds out that he's the Red Hood in some sub-optimal circumstances.

Word Count: 1,639

Category: Fluff, Humor, Angst

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I sighed as I turned out the bathroom light and headed for bed. Today had been a long day, and I couldn't wait to get some sleep.

Normally, after particularly tiring days (which happened more often than I'd like as an ER doctor), I'd text my boyfriend or vice versa and he'd come over with our favorite foods, the two of us leaning against each other on the couch and watching our favorite shows until we eventually passed out. Unfortunately, he had to work tonight. We'd made plans to make up for it this weekend instead, but tonight I was on my own.

I climbed under the covers and turned out my light, and I was almost all the way asleep when the sound of my window opening dragged me back awake. That window was always locked—maybe I was hearing things?

Thump. A heavy sound like someone hitting the floor came from right next to my bed. No way I'd imagined that.

Slowly, I eased open my eyes, too scared to move an inch. It was hard to make things out as my eyes adjusted to the darkness, until my heart almost stopped dead in my chest.

The Red Hood was laying on my carpet, flat on the floor, his feet still caught on the windowsill he'd just crawled over.

My mind raced. What the hell was he doing here? And what the hell was I supposed to do about it? Most of what I'd heard about the Red Hood painted him as the protector of the most vulnerable people in the worst parts of Gotham—but then why had he just broken into my apartment?

My racing train of thought was derailed as the vigilante groaned and shifted on the carpet. He rolled over until he was facing me, the eyes of his helmet providing the only source of light in the room. I froze, stiff as a board, my heart threatening to beat all the way out of my chest. What was he going to do?

Slowly, two gloved hands reached up towards his helmet. He must've pushed a buton, because I heard a hiss and a click before he moved to take his helmet off.

"Wait-" I said, starting to sit up in bed at last. I had no idea what was happening, but the Red Hood revealing his identity to me didn't seem like a good omen for anything. The vigilante ignored me though, and a moment later I froze all over again, sitting on the edge of my bed as I took in his face.

Jason Todd. My boyfriend, the man I'd finally worked up the courage to say "I love you" to a few weeks ago. Laying on my floor after breaking in through my window as Red Hood.

"Y/N..." He groaned my name, and all the shock was putshed out by immediate concern for whatever had him laying on the floor of my room like this. I stood, pulling his legs the rest of the way thorugh the window and shutting it, then dropped to my knees on the floor next to him.

"Jason..." I breathed. "What happened?"

"I... got shot. I didn't have anywhere else to go, I couldn't think of anywhere else I could make it to..."

My eyes scanned his body again, this time with a little less shock clouding my vision. He had a wound in his side, the one against the ground, and it was currently leaking blood onto my rug. I swore.

"Jason, is anybody following you? The person who shot you, or anyone with them?"

Jason groaned and shook his head.

"I made sure they weren't. I couldn't risk leading them back to you."

"Okay. Just stay right here, I'll be right back."

I jumped up and hustled into the hall to grab my first kit. I tried to focus on taking deep breaths as I flipped the lights on and returned to Jason, dropping to my knees next to him.

"Okay, Jay, I'm gonna roll you over, alright?"

"Yeah," he managed to grind out.

Working together, it didn't take long to get Jason on his back. I quickly pulled up his shirt to get a look at the wound, and about half the tension eased out of my shoulders. The entry and exit wounds were clean, and it didn't look like it had hit anything serious, although the blood loss from exerting himself running all over the city before he got to me certainly wasn't good.

"Alright, this isn't as bad as I worried it might be. As long as you get some rest, you should heal up fine. Do you think you can make it to the bathroom if I help? It'll be easier to get you cleaned up in there."

Jason nodded, taking a couple deep breaths as he did.

"Yeah. Yeah, I think I can."

"Okay. Nice and easy, let's go."

Jason was so tall and so heavy, but between his sheer grit and the last of my adrenaline, we managed to get into the bathroom together. I eased him down on the edge of the tub, then paused before pulling back.

"Do you think you can keep yourself upright here? Or do we need to get you laying down?"

Jason took a few deep breaths in and out, his hands clutching the edge of the tub. Then, he finally looked up at me.

"I'm good."

I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Really? Because this is not the time for bullshit macho nonsense-"

"Sweetheart, I promise. I'm good. Or at least I will be, as long as you get me stitched up."

I sighed. "So I take it that means you're not gonna let me call 9-1-1 and get you to a hospital?"

"No. I get anywhere near one, and I'll either be arrested or dead before I'm all the way healed."

"Great. Then I guess we're doing this."

I took a deep breath and tried to steel myself for the procedure about to come. All of this was just about the last thing I wanted to deal with after the day I'd had. Jason hurt, relying on me to help him, and apparently the man behind the masked vigilante Red Hood. But I could deal with all of that later. After Jason was stable.

I left my apartment and emotions behind as I got into the zone dealing with Jason. He was tough as nails all through the process, although this actually probably wasn't his first gun shot. Finally, I finished and the bleeding stopped. I sat back against my bathroom cabinet with a heavy sigh and just looked at Jason.

"What... the actual... fuck?" I breathed. All the things I'd shoved aside to cope with the crisis were officially rushing back in. Jason huffed a laugh and shook his head, then slowly eased himself off the edge of the tub. I narrowed my eyes at him. "If you pop one of your stitches, I swear-"

"I won't, I'm not going far."

He settled in on the floor next to me, shoulder to shoulder, then sighed.

"I'm sorry about this. For just showing up, and... for how you just found everything out."

I sighed. "Jay, you know I've never minded you just showing up. But... were you ever going to tell me? Like, if you didn't have to tell me because you got shot... would I ever have found out that you're secretly the Red Hood?"

"Of course I was going to tell you," Jason said, his voice a low rumble. "I love you, I'd never keep something like that from you forever. I was just... trying to figure out how to do it. I mean seriously, how the hell was I supposed to start that conversation?"

A tired smile made its way onto my face, and I leaned a bit into Jason.

"How about 'knock knock, who's there? Me, the Red Hood. That's right, I've got something to tell you'."

Jason snorted, his hand immediately flying to the wound in his side as he fought back a laugh. I just grinned.

"Yeah, it's a really good thing you're not the one with the secret identity to disclose."

"Mmm, I don't know, I think there's something to my approach. Or how about 'what has two thumbs and-'"

"Okay, you have to stop. I'm gonna pop a stitch if you keep going."

"Well, lucky for you, you're dating a doctor."

"Lucky for me I'm dating you. Seriously, I half expected you to scream and run out of the room when you saw me."

"After the day I had at the hospital? I wouldn't have the energy for that kind of panic, honestly."

Jason huffed a laugh and wrapped one arm aorund my shoulders.

"Sorry for adding to the length of that day."

"It's okay, Jay." I sighed and turned to face him, just managing enough energy to smile. "I'm always happy to see you, and even though this obviously wasn't the ideal way for me to find out... I'm glad I know about this part of your life now."

"Me too."

I met his gorgeous blue eyes, the ones the mask had hidden from me at first, and smiled. Jason's expression mirrored my own, and a moment later, he was leaning forward, closing the gap between us with a glance at my lilps. I helped him close the rest of the distance, his soft lips gently finding mine. We stayed like that for a few seconds, until I finally pulled back.

"We should go to bed, Jay."

Jason grinned at me. "Happily, sweetheart."

"Not like that," I said, rolling my eyes and giving him a light smack in the arm. "Not while you're recovering from a bullet wound."

Jason sighed dramatically, and I couldn't hold back a laugh.

"Fine. Help me get to bed then?"

"Of course. And tomorrow, after we've slept in past noon, I'll make us some breakfast and you can answer my million questions about all this Red Hood shit."

"And then I can help you clean the blood off your bedroom floor."

"Sounds like the perfect weekend plan."

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

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989

[beingsuneone]

Sunset & Vine

PART ONE | PART TWO

SYNOPSIS: one year was all you had, and the winners of the previous hunger games. You didn’t know them that well, but they were still youre only friends. Now you’re thrown back into the Games with some new confusing feelings.

FANDOM: The Hunger Games

PAIRING(S): Peeta Mallark x Victor!Reader

RATING: G

CHARACTERS MENTIONED: Peeta Mellark, Katniss Everdeen, Haymitch Abernathy, Coriolanus Snow, Johanna Mason, Finnick Odair, Effie Trinket, President Coin, Gale Hawthorne

GENRE/AU: Dystopia, Angst, a very small amount of comfort,

WORD COUNT: 5.2k

WARNINGS: Katniss is slightly OOC, Canon divergent in some ways but not others, CATCHING FIRE AND MOCKINGJAY SPOILERS, Reader won the 74th hunger games and Peeta and Katniss won the 73rd.

A/N: Jjj, I’ve really got to stop writing stories with ending like this. Lemme know if you want part two. FYI!!! Changed a few words that completely changed the context and set up for the next part.

DEDICATIONS: Peeta my beloved

CREDITS: Taylor Swift for the name (Gorgeous - Taylor Swift)

It’s a woman, standing with her back to you— she has similar hair to yours and an almost protective stance to her. A haze of colour surrounds her… oranges, purples and yellows swirled into an indescribable but beautiful mess.

Peeta Mellark may be a fellow victor, and he may be one of your neighbours, but you know nothing about him. Except for this beautiful painting that he gifted you.

She wears a dress that flows in some sort of assumed breeze, and has a hand tentatively braced in her hair; there’s something so familiar about this scene that you can’t place— something familiar about the woman in particular.

You can’t place it.

You run your fingers along the small note that Peeta had left with the painting, hovering over the loopy cursive of his signature; it’s the same on the painting but it’s too beautiful to touch like that.

Last year, you won the seventy-fourth annual hunger games, and became a legend for getting district twelve two wins in a row— right alongside Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark, Who won the seventy-third hunger games.

Thank god the months of parading you around were over and you could settle happily into your gigantic house by yourself.

Well, happily might be an over statement— you had no family, and certainly no friends… unless Haymitch counts but you don’t think he does.

So this painting feels extra special— a warmth in an otherwise cold and unfamiliar home.

“Where should I put it?” Muttering to yourself, you mentally scan the layout of your house; you’d want it to be in a place where you could see it often, but also somewhere where any house guest would be able to see it… yeah. House guests.

After shaking your head uselessly, you settle on hanging it in the entryway. For sure people would see it there.

You’d been putting off doing this for a couple of days, just because you hadn’t had a whole lot of energy to do anything but sit in a chair and half-read a novel.

So, after a few minutes of fiddling and messy calculations, the painting is hung in the entryway.

You take one last glance at the swirling coloured background once more, and then turn away, leaving the comfort and fantasy behind.

……

Victors are supposed to have immunity, they’re supposed to be done with the games for the rest of their miserable, trauma ridden lives.

But the seventy-fifth hunger games brings back all of the worst parts of last year— you know that out of the three other victors, you’re the female they want to get picked. You’re the easy decision, the loner that nobody cares about.

You know the Capitol loves Peeta and Katniss far too much, and you, not enough.

This, stacked on top of everything else the Capitol has put you through… it’s too much.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when there’s a knock at your door.

“Hello?” You say as you open it; Peeta Mellark is standing there with his lip turned down just slightly, his eyes center behind you for a moment before his face softens and lightens.

“Hey. You got the painting.” A smile melts onto his face, and you swear he looks… beyond words when he smiles.

After a long moment of silence, you clear your throat. “What brings you here…?” You stammer awkwardly, cringing at your choice of words.

He sort of— laughs? Chuckles? at you. “We’re talking strategy for the Quarter Quell and we figured we should include you.” His face falls again, and he looks like he’s holding something back.

Your back straightens. “The Quarter Quell isn’t for another few months—”

He nods slowly. “But we’re going to have to do the pre-tour… and they’re pulling names in just a couple weeks.”

The band around his ring finger gleams brightly in the sun, which sends some sort of jealous feeling rolling through you.

You shake your head because you don’t know Peeta Mellark, and, even if he is gorgeous, you don’t get crushes on people you don’t know.

Plus he’s in love and engaged to Katniss Everdeen, even if you did know him well enough to develop a crush.

He glances down, and then quickly yanks the ring off. “It’s, uh— just for the camera’s.” Then he gestures to the painting behind you. “That’s you, you know. I know you’ve never worn a dress like that, but I saw a screencap of you in The Games and inspiration just kind of… hit me.” he trails off at the end and fiddles with the ring in his hand.

“It’s… me?” You say slowly. “We barely know each other, why would you paint me?”

He takes a small breath. “You’re really beautiful, Y/n, I’ve always thought so.”

A breath hitches but you genuinely can’t discern if it’s him or you over the roaring of blood in your ears.

“So…” he starts again. “If you want to join us, we’re heading over to Haymitch’s now.”

“Okay.” You say, sounding more winded than you did before; you stare at him for a few more moments before you step out of the front door and shut it.

You walk silently beside him, trying not to take in his messy blonde hair or pretty blue eyes—and also, failing miserably—

Just as you reach Haymitch’s doorstep, you stop and tug on Peeta’s sleeve to get his attention. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, Peeta.”

He looks down at you, the air around you charged with some kind of something that you can’t name, and just as he’s about to reach over to you, the door swings open.

“Why are you guys just standing out here?” Katniss says with her nose scrunched, she eyes you up and then eyes Peeta up in a similar fashion.

At least it wasn’t exclusively you.

Both your heads snap toward her, while Peeta smoothly comes up with a reason. “Y/n was feeling nervous, I was just trying to help calm her nerves.”

Haymitch raises an eyebrow from behind Katniss, and gives Peeta a look.

“Hey, Sweetheart.” He says, as Katniss steps aside and lets the two of you in. There’s a tenderness to his voice that you hadn’t realized you missed so much.

“Hi.” The three of you shuffle into what you think was once a living room but it’s chillingly messy in Haymitch’s house.

“Couldn’t we have done this at someone else’s house?” Peeta says, eying the empty bottles on the floor.

“No.” Katniss shakes her head, shooting Haymitch a glare. “Because everytime we have to talk to him, we have to wake him up with a bucket of water.”

You snort. “I’m sorry— a bucket of water?”

Haymitch cuts in. “Why do you think my hair’s wet? I definitely didn’t take a shower.” There's a water stain that makes his shirt sag, and you wonder how you didn’t notice before. Haymitch clears his throat. “Moving on; if it’s Katniss and Peeta then we can still milk the whole star-crossed lover thing— if it’s me or Y/n… that won’t work.”

“Y/n shouldn’t go.” Peeta interjects; you’re taken aback by it.

You fidget with the hem of your shirt. “I really thought I was the best person to go.” You pause, looking up at the three of them. “It’s not like there’s anyone here that will care if I don’t come home.”

Haymitch gives Peeta a scrutinizing look. “Look, Lover-boy, we know you have a crush but that isn’t enough for Katniss to volunteer herself if Y/n gets picked.”

Peeta looks to you and then back to Haymitch. “Katniss and I are the Capitol’s favourite couple right now, if we went we’d probably be much better off in terms of sponsors and parachutes.”

“And you don’t want her to go.” Haymitch gestures in yours and Katniss’s direction.

Peeta sighs but doesn’t deny it. It makes sense that he wouldn’t want his fiancé to go back to the Games.

“Peeta is right,” Katniss starts, “but, Haymitch, if you get picked… Peeta should stay. Either way.”

Peeta shakes his head. “No. I’m not staying.”

You cut in. “There’s no good reason why I should stay.” You’re basically the only clear answer; if you get picked you’ll go, and, if Katniss is picked, you’ll go. “I won’t.”

Now all three of them are staring at you. “If I get picked, Katniss can’t volunteer and if she gets picked, you can’t stop me from volunteering.”

Katniss huffs. “You can’t stop me from volunteering either.”

Really, you could all argue this for hours.

…..

The four of you had never come to a conclusion, and now it’s the day of the Reaping.

Effie stands uncomfortably at the bowl; she doesn’t seem happy about having to pull your names, despite her chipper facade.

“The female tribute for District Twelve is…” she says, digging around in the two slips of paper in the bowl. She finally pulls one out and reluctantly reads it out. “Y/n L/n.” She almost sighs your name.

Katniss’s fingers twitch nervously, like she wants to say something but you shoot her the strongest glare you can muster.

She doesn’t volunteer, and you’re glad for it.

You walk up to the stage, head held high; you know this is the start of the end of your life, so you might as well act more confident than you truly are.

Effie looks at you sadly once you’re settled behind her, and then turns back to the audience. “And… the male tribute for District Twelve is,” she spends another five minutes routing through the two names. “Haymitch Abernathy.” This time her sigh is one of relief.

But the relief does not last long.

“I volunteer!” Peeta says, stepping forward; Haymitch grabs his arm and says something too quiet to hear, and Peeta says something back. His face is full of determination as everyone watches him walk up the stage and stand next to you.

Everyone in your little group wears a look of defeat. Even you.

Only one of you can go home, and you’re going to do your damn best to make sure it’s Peeta Mellark.

…..

“I’m not ready for this.” You say quietly, as you walk down the corridor to your bedrooms on the train. “It’s hardly been a year, Peeta.”

He nods solemnly, not looking at you as you arrive at your door. His is just across the hall.

Peeta gently takes your hand in his and squeezes. “I know. It’s too soon.” He looks angry. “We were never supposed to have to do this again.” He drops your hand before you can reciprocate in any sort of way.

You do feel a little less nauseous though.

“It‘s okay.” You whisper, twitching your fingers and slapping it onto the doorknob. “It’ll be okay.”

Peeta’s eyes rove over you in a scrutinizing manner as though he’s trying to figure some meaning behind your words, but there isn’t one to figure.

Just that it will be okay. Peeta will, if you really just be specific. Peeta will return home, happy and safe.

Ready to live his life with the woman he loves… Katniss.

And you will fade into false glory and distant memory.

…..

“Finnick, Right?” You fidget with your fingers in front of you; Finnick Odair was an attractive man who oozed with confidence and smooth words.

“Want a sugar cube?” He asks slyly, holding one out to you. “They're supposed to be for the horses but— we’re going to die anyway, it won’t matter after that.”

You nod carefully. “Of course, because that would obviously matter if we weren’t already set for death.” You still take the sugar cube from his hand and pop it in your mouth.

You almost gag from it. Pure sugar was… a lot. “Ugh. That’s disgusting.”

Finnick chuckles. “But liberating.”

You shake your head but a smile still spreads across your face. “Liberating indeed, Finnick Odair. My last act of rebellion is eating a sugar cube.”

“Devastating, really. To the Capitol, I mean.” He smiles easily at you, before someone catches his attention and he saunters off.

Claudius Templesmith stood not far from you, crooning about something with one of the older tributes.

The older man— Betee, you think— stood, looking indifferent but also invested in Claudius’s ramblings and unnecessary questions.

You were dreading the questions he’d ask you during your second round of interviews.

The last time was time enough for you.

“What’d he want?” Peeta asks, walking up behind you and pulling your attention away from the other party-goers.

“Oh, you know,” you say flippantly, “sugarcubes, secrets, and sarcasm.”

Peeta’s eyebrows furrow in confusion but the smile remains on his face. “Sounds like an interesting conversation.” He extends his arm to you. “Shall we?”

You sigh. “Not like we have much choice.”

….

“I’d give anything to know what’s going on inside your head.” Peeta says softly, fidgeting with the rope in his hands. You’d both decided that learning how to tie some knots would be beneficial.

You chuff, an awkward laugh. “What do you mean?”

His fingers work steadily, and somewhat clumsily, with the rope; there’s something alluring about how sure he can be with his hands.

It makes you think of the painting in your house— the one that you’ll never see again— how patient he must’ve been to complete such a beautiful piece, how still and sure of himself.

“What are you thinking right now, Y/n?” He looks up at you, with those beautiful blue eyes of his.

You shrug. “I was thinking about…” you trail off, because you absolutely cannot say that you were thinking about his hands. A half-truth will have to do. “Your painting. How I’ll never see it again.”

Hip lips pull into a frown. “You’ll see it again, I’m going to make sure of it.”

Sighing deeply, you stand. “You’re the one who has to go home, Peeta, not me.” He opens his mouth to speak but you cut him off. “It has to be you.”

….

You don’t have the time to argue about it for the next couple of days, you hardly even see each other.

Now, Cinna is preparing you for the arena. You know that everything he gave was meant for Katniss, he had obviously expected it to be her, or that he wouldn’t style you.

He hadn’t been your stylist, but yours had opted out of this year’s games, claiming it was too painful to watch you go back in.

You hadn’t liked her much the first time around, wanted to change you too much in ways that you most definitely did not like.

Cinna, though, you liked him. Though this would be the last time you saw him.

You were dressed in whatever mandatory suit that they designed for this game, a skin tight suit that looked like you were about to go scuba diving.

“It’s time.” Cinna says, glancing back to the tube at the back of the room. You turn back to it.

“Thank you, Cinna.” You say, bowing your head for him. “It was nice getting to know you.”

He smiles half-heartedly. “It was a pleasure, Y/n.”

You exchange a final goodbye and step into the tube. The sixth second countdown begins as the tube starts to ascend.

It's all water, just water and water and water in a large circle around them. There was also thin sand bars that connected the tubes and the Cornucopia, but you knew you wouldn’t be braving that.

Peeta stands three tubes down, with a morphling, a Career and Johanna between you two.

Twenty seconds.

You stare at him desperately, hoping he’ll stick to the plan and swim towards you; you catch his eyes and he smiles reassuringly. It’s not a genuine smile but it still calms you all the same.

Ten seconds.

You ball your fists, clenching hard.

Nine.

Eight.

God, it’s going to be difficult to get out of the water.

Seven.

Six.

You’re not the strongest swimmer, maybe you should go to the Cornucopia.

Five.

Four.

And it’s a long way to swim, even for someone who does know how. Only experienced swimmers, like Finnick, would have an easy time of it.

Three.

Two.

Then, it occurs to you, maybe those sandbars go all the way to the shore; if you get to the Cornucopia, Grab, well, anything, and then flee via the sandbars, you just might be okay.

One.

The pads everyone stands on recede into the water and dumps everyone straight in.

It makes you realize that most of your competitors do not know how to swim.

Peeta is just barely floating thanks to the bright purple belt that had been strapped around all your waists.

You know how to swim at least a little bit , so you unbuckle yours and swim over to him; once it inflates fully, you give it to him and try to drag him towards the sandbars.

It dawns on you all over again that Peeta is a tall guy, and he’s not exactly small either.

He’s strong and his weight definitely shows that; he tries to keep himself afloat but ends up making it worse.

Eventually, you make it over there, and he pulls himself up onto the loose sand; it takes a bit of effort because it’s slippery and keeps moving under your weight.

It’s barely stable enough to be a viable option. Just barely.

You leave him there for a minute and swim to the cornucopia. There's fighting going on on its small platform, but you just snag a small waterproof bag that sits a few yards away; a knife comes flying in your direction, and knicks your face.

The salt of the water stings as it mingles with blood.

When you spin back towards Peeta, he’s struggling and Finnick is approaching him.

You race back as fast as you can.

Finnick already has some pretty gnarly weapons strapped to him.

You’re about to draw the knife on him when shakes his head. “Relax, Y/n, I’m saving his ass.” Then he lifts a hand out of the water and flashes some sort of bracelet at you.

It’s the alliance bracelets that Haymitch had mentioned.

Oh.

“I-”you start, but you never really had a sentence to begin with.

You just lag silently behind as Finnick helps Peeta to the shore. The closer you get to the shore, the wider the sandbars get, and the sturdier they are as well.

Until they're eventually higher than the water, and wide enough for both Peeta and yourself to walk side by side.

You collapse onto the sand when you finally reach the shore and stay there for only a second.

That’s all you have before the three of you are up and running into the forest in front of you.

….

When Peeta’s heart stops, you're sure that yours does too— you’re sure that, as you stand there in a state while Finnick tries to resuscitate Peeta, you’re also unresponsive and silent. Dead.

True enough, in a way.

The longer you stare at Peeta’s face, still twisted in pain from the shock, the more you feel like dropping to the ground and sobbing.

You tried to imagine the way he painted with camouflage training stuff, drawing intricate designs onto both his and one of the morhpling’s arms.

It had washed off by the next morning but you had spent the whole night longing to touch it, run your fingers along his arm, trace the shapes and swirls.

Beyond the paintings, you recalled his magnetic smile and the way he always made you feel safe and calm, the steady air that he radiated.

You weren’t ready for him to die, he was the one who was supposed to win this, after all. You had resolved that Peeta Mellark was going to be the winner of the 75th Hunger Games and you were going to do whatever you needed to to make that happen. You were even prepared to turn into somebody you weren’t, just to make sure Peeta went home. Or at least, you thought you could if you had to come to it.

But now, you’re ready to give up. Finnick or Johanna could win— and they should. Literally anyone else but you. Everyone who had a life now that Peeta is gone.

You’re just about to collapse to the ground when Peeta starts to cough erratically, and he manages to sit straight up.

“Peeta!” You cry as you fall to the ground next to him, and wrap your arms around his neck. He seems disoriented for a moment before he hugs you back, right. “I really thought you were gone.”

He gently strokes your back, as you fuss over him, double checking that he’s okay and checking his burn.

…..

You hear a loud sickening crack from somewhere else in the arena that makes everyone but Johanna and Finnick jump. You feel Peeta’s hand wrap around you protectively and pull you closer to him in the single instant that you’re all reacting to the noise.

It takes a few delayed seconds before each one of you realizes that it’s just the lightning in 12, before you realize just how having Peeta’s hands on you makes you feel.

His fingers slip from your waist, brushing softly as they fall away and leaving you feeling just slightly feral.

You pull yourself away, and dig your nails into your thigh to ground yourself. Getting used to this clock thing was going to be agonizing.

You’re waiting patiently as the lot of you— You, Peeta, Finnick, Johanna and Beetee— come up with a plan to take down the force field and take out the Careers at the same time.

You can barely focus on the conversation because you itch to have Peeta’s hands on you again, to feel his fingers against your skin again.

In fact there’s so many things you’d like to say and do with Peeta that you know you will never have the chance to; not to mention that he is in love with someone else and would never be interested in any of those things with you anyways.

You’re pretty sure you’d been staring at Peeta but you only notice because Finnick shoots a look at you— you can’t tell exactly what he’s thinking but it must be something about that.

You try to zone back into the plan.

….

Trying to trap the careers failed miserably, and the person most experienced with a bow was you, but only thanks to Katniss’s training.

Everything was a blur as the force field came down; chaos, fire everywhere— you couldn’t see or hear Peeta.

You worried about him and you laid pathetically on the ground, half out of your mind. You wondered if he was having trouble with his prosthetic leg, or having run from Enobaria or one of the other careers. You wondered if he’d make it out okay, even though it was obvious you wouldn’t.

You wondered and worried for what felt like forever until an airship appeared above you.

Great. You thought, the Capitol has come to torture you and everyone you’ve ever loved until the couldnt anymore and all of you was nothing more than a shell of a person. Until the only option was avox or death.

You can’t move, or fight it as the giant claw, scoops you up.

All that effort and you still managed to condem each and everyone of you to torture.

…..

“Relax, Y/n!” Haymitch snaps, as Finnick restrains you.

Katniss sits on the other side of the table, looking just as devastated as you.

“What do you mean, you didn’t get Peeta? You can’t just leave him there, they’ll hurt him worse than any of us could ever imagine!” You say, still struggling to get away from Finnick.

Katniss actually argues in your favour. “I did say I would only do this thing if you got both her and Peeta.”

Plutarch, the game maker shakes his head redundantly. “Peeta and Johanna were just to far away for us to locate before the Capitols airships came; I’m sorry, we’ll get them back eventually.”

Finnick finally lets you go once you’ve calmed down. He has a solemn look on his face. “I’m sure they’ve got Annie too. We need to save them as soon as possible.”

….

As soon as possible turns into several weeks, several heartbreakingly, agonizingly long weeks.

You can’t help but think about Peeta every moment of every day . You imagine all the terrible things Snow is doing to him, you wish it was you in his place.

Peeta was the one person who never deserved any of this, over anyone else. You and Katniss had been willing to do whatever you needed to to survive, you’d done things maybe you weren’t particularly proud of. But Peeta? He had never let the Games change him.

He had always been the same.

Safe, steady, comfortable, strong.

You don’t even have any hope that they’re showing him any mercy.

They aren’t.

You know now, you know by the way that last interview they aired went— how he was struck just as the cameras shut off, how your heart broke when you looked into his eyes, when you saw just how much they’d hurt him already.

You were just about ready to burst into Coin’s office and tell her that you were getting Peeta now, regardless of the consequences to Thirteen.

Gale and Katniss were fighting a lot lately, tension was heavy between them; and not in a good way. You didn’t know Gale well, but the comments he made about Peeta made your skin crawl and your hands itch to throw a few punches.

Actually they were arguing now, about Peeta, and you were listening.

Gale’s head snaps to you randomly and he barks at you; “and you! Why the hell are you so invested in Bread Boy?”

You startle for a moment, but then narrow your eyes. “What do you mean why am I invested? He’s my— friend.” You say, sounding unsure even to yourself.

Katniss huffs. “I mean, come on, Gale, you know that our relationship has been fake from the start and we—” she gestures between the two of them. “—we’re friends, Gale, we always have been.”

He scoffs, and says something else in a bitter tone but all you can hear is Katniss’s words replaying over and over in your brain.

Our relationship has been fake from the start.

“Shut up for a second!” You snap at Gale, and turn back to Katniss. “Your relationship was fake the whole time? Yours and Peeta’?” You almost feel like an asshole for asking, just in case it is real; but so many things Peeta has done and said make so much more sense recontextualized like this.

Like when he said their rings were ‘just for ten cameras.’ Or when he told you he always thought you were beautiful. Or even the way he tried so hard to convince not to go back into the games.

Both of their faces fall flat, Katniss’s in disbelief. “You didn’t know?” She says.

You shake your head slowly. “No, I-” you stop yourself because you're at a loss for words.

“Y/n, we didn’t try to hide it from you, how did you not know? Even Haymitch said right in front of you that Peeta had a crush on you!”

You deadpan once again. You had blatantly misread everybody’s words in that conversation. “I just assumed that was about you!” You stare at each other for a second longer before you stand up abruptly. “I have to go.”

There was a lot of thinking you had to do and then a lot of planning— and a bit of yelling too.

…..

You were deemed too invested in the mission to actually go on it, and Finnick was too distressed over Annie to be allowed.

So you had been sitting together in silence; the silence was comfortable but the insane amounts of stress running through your veins was enough to make the tension in the air as sharp as a knife. Not between each other but to any other person.

Especially since Gale was allowed to go on the mission, and you felt that was entirely unfair— Gale doesn’t even like Peeta.

It had turned into a whole day of waiting, and only twenty minutes ago, they had returned with Johanna, Peeta and Annie.

The anxiety had grown tenfold when you were both informed you weren’t allowed to see them yet.

Now, you’re standing outside the door where Annie was resting, watching her through the one way window.

Finnick’s eyes are filled with so many you can only pick out one or two; you wonder if your eyes will look similar when you enter Peeta’s room.

You wish him luck and watch as he enters the room; Annie looks like she screams his name and then jumps him. He holds her up, looking like it’s the happiest moment of his life.

Watching them makes you much more excited to see Peeta, although you're not sure it will be quite that exuberant of a reunion.

You walk a couple doors down, glancing in the windows as you do; but you stop when you see Katniss and Johanna in one of the rooms before Peeta’s.

Why in the world is Katniss in the Hospital? What happened?

You push open the door gently, and Katniss doesn’t stir— you take note of the morphling drip in her arm, that must be keeping her knocked out.

You see Johanna is also asleep, her head is shaved and she has the worst tortured expression on, even though she looks to be sleeping soundfully— physically, anyways.

If she’s looking that bad, you can’t help but wonder about Peeta. You’re always wondering about him.

You don’t want to disturb either of their healing so you quickly leave the room, shutting the door as quietly and calmly as you can.

Finally, as you walk out, you spot the guards in front of Peeta’s door; you think it’s a little strange, considering neither Johanna nor Annie had security at the door but you walk towards the door anyways.

The guards hold out a hand as you approach.

“Restricted access, you can’t go in there.” The guard says, almost heartlessly.

Just as he finishes speaking, the door opens and Haymitch steps out and away. You would look through the window but the blinds are down.

“I’m sorry, Sweetheart, you can’t see him.” Haymitch takes your arm and leads you back down the hallway. “The Capitol… they tortured him so bad he—” Haymitch stops, and looks away for a second before looking back. “He tried to strangle Katniss, and kept yelling about how Katniss was a liar. He’s not himself right now.”

So much for your heartfelt reunion.

All content belongs to @beingsuneone , do not repost, copy or post on other platforms without my permission.

[hazeystar]

i'm broken (tell you i'm fine)

Now I'm begging you to come and pull me out the fire Come and save me, like you did when we were young Oh please, come bring me up from my lowest, take me higher Can you see me through the ashes and the smoke?

Two weeks after the breakup, Buck misses Tommy. He also loves him, did you know?

welcome to my first fic to this fandom because i hold buck and tommy close to my heart and have many ideas for them now

below the break and also on ao3

He couldn’t have been older than ten when they first met.  

He had fallen off his bike. Or maybe he jumped. Maybe he just didn’t stop himself from falling. 

Either way he was on the ground, his bike somewhere around him. He was just going down the sidewalk, saw an uneven crack and thought nothing (or maybe he thought “What the hell?” and sped up just a tiny bit more). 

“Hey! You alright?” There was a voice calling, and he sat up carefully, wincing as he pressed his hands back into the concrete. He definitely scraped them up.  

He was blinking away the sun, when a body came in front of him, standing with a bike next to him. “This your bike?” 

It was his bike. There was a boy holding it up, looking down at him with a concerned expression. 

Oh. He still hadn’t said anything. “Ye—yeah, it’s mine.” 

The boy nodded, setting it down next to them before crouching down. He was older than him, that much was evident, just by his voice. “You’ve scratched up your hands pretty bad.” 

He looked down at the offending body parts, nodding slowly. “Looks like it.” 

The older boy was silent for a couple beats before standing up. The boy on the ground only stared, following the movement. “I’ll be right back.” 

He could only nod, watch the other boy stride down the sidewalk and reappear a few moments later, this time with a first aid kit in hand.  

The older boy resumed his spot in front of him, opening the kit and holding out a hand.  

He sat there, his own hands still on the ground, occasionally sparking with pain.  

“Your hand, kid.” The boy gestured again, and he finally moved, placing his hand in the other boy’s. He felt a shiver run through his body when the back of his hand hit his palm. It wasn’t bad by any means. It felt warm, and soft, like coming home.  

Slowly, the older boy dusted off the gravel on his hand, swiping an alcohol wipe over his palm before placing Band-Aids on the worst of the cuts. He set his hand down gently, picked up the other one and repeating the process.   

“There you go.” 

“Thanks.” He finally spoke again, and watched the other boy stand up and close the first-aid kit. 

“Try not to get thrown off your bike again,” he chuckled before giving a small wave and walking back to wherever he came from.  

He picked his bike back up, staring at it for a moment, his eyes moving towards the chunk of sidewalk that took him out. 

He walked the bike over it, making sure to clear the crack before getting back on and biking back home. 

- 

Buck was crying again. 

It was two weeks after Tommy had walked out of his loft, and subsequently his life. 

He’s now an owner of a KitchenAid stand mixer and probably getting close to being banned from three different grocery stores on account of how much flour and sugar he’s been buying. 

He’s working and when he isn’t working, he’s been baking. Trying to keep his mind off Tommy. 

But now, the red velvet cupcakes are baking in the oven, there’s red food dye drying on the counter that he can’t be bothered to take care of, and Buck is sitting against his island, tears running down his face as he stares at his phone, trying to write a text message. 

He got pretty far this time, some ramble trying to explain himself that filled almost half the screen (it was impressive he managed to type that much with all the water on his phone).  

How did this happen? It was going so well, six months together and it was wonderful. It was everything he wanted and more. And then he had nothing.  

Well, he had the red velvet cupcakes. That he didn’t even realise he’d started baking until he was pouring in red food dye. 

They were Tommy’s favourite. 

So, the loft smelled like red velvet, the food dye on the counter probably looked a little too close to blood, and Buck was crying because he missed Tommy so much. Why did he leave him? Didn’t he know he loves him, that he- 

Oh.  

Did Tommy even know that Buck loves him? 

The only sound heard was the sobs Buck was trying to choke back as his mind ran a thousand miles an hour. Did he ever tell Tommy he loves him? Did he ask him to move in and didn’t even say he loves him? 

Before he knew it, the text he was still drafting was forgotten as he tapped through his phone, bringing it up to his ear once it started ringing. 

It only took two rings, then “Ev- Fuck, Buck?” 

He was silent, his breathing hitching with a sob with every breath. He didn’t think this far, he hasn’t heard his voice in two weeks- 

“Evan?” Came Tommy’s voice again, and shit, he still hadn’t said anything, has he? 

“Tommy,” he breathed out. I love you, did you know that? I really, really lov- 

“Evan, are you alright? Where are you?” 

“Loft. I-” This time a sob escaped, and he couldn’t stop it, it was all too much. His loft smelled like red velvet, and he was hearing Tommy’s voice, and he just wants him here. 

“I’m coming over, okay? Don’t hang up, baby, I’ll be over there soon.” 

He nodded, then realise he wouldn’t see that. “Okay.” 

They sat in silence, broken up only by Buck’s choked back sobs or the occasional car passing Tommy as he drove. 

He didn’t know how much time passed, but a timer went off on his phone, and like he was on autopilot, he stood up and pulled the tray of cupcakes out of the oven. He set them on top of the stove, staring at red cakes. There was cream cheese frosting he’d made on the counter, but they still needed to cool, and he'd have to get a piping bag out so he could make them look like the ones they used to get at the bakery near Harbor. 

He let out another sob at the memory, sliding back down to the floor. The phone was in front of him, having put it on speaker long ago when he needed another hand to cry into.  

“Ev, baby?” Tommy sounded worried and it made Buck cry harder. He missed Tommy worrying over him, being with him, hugging him, kissing him. 

“I miss you.” 

A sigh, or maybe just an exhale. Then, “I miss you too, sweetheart.” 

He cried again. He missed him too. That’s good, that’s good, that means he can still fix this. 

“Pulling into the parking lot.” 

“Th- Door’s unlocked.” He’d gone out earlier to dump some trash, a great deal of flour bags. He’d forgotten about the door until just then.  

“Okay. I’ll be up soon.” 

It was quiet again, then the sound of a truck door being slammed. Buck didn’t move from his spot, not even when he heard the door to his loft open at the same time the call disconnected.  

“Evan?” And there was his voice, in person. He was here. 

“Down here,” he called out, hearing footsteps and then he was in front of him. He knelt down, two fingers hooking under his chin to get Buck to meet his eyes and he felt time stop when he saw Tommy’s face again. 

He looked tired, and sad. There was scruff around his chin, his hair was curly in a way that made Buck want to bury his hands in it. His eyes were the same blue, but there were read rims around them. Had he been crying too? 

“Are you okay?” 

Buck nodded, and then he was scrambling up, throwing his arms around Tommy’s neck and wrapping around him. Tommy sat back properly on the ground as Buck straddled him, arms going around Buck like second nature. 

“Hey, it’s okay. I’ve got you,” he soothed, arms tightening just a little bit more. Buck whimpered; his head tucked into the crook of his neck as he breathed in Tommy.  

“I missed you.” A beat. “I’m sorry.” 

“Nothin’ to be sorry for, it’s okay.” 

But he needed him to know. He pulled away from his neck, not quite leaving his hold but needing to look him in the eyes. “No. I’m sorry. I should have said it better, or maybe I shouldn’t have said anything at all, but I look at you and I just want it to be perfect because you deserve it. You deserve it to be perfect and I don’t know how to do it right. You mean everything to me, and I want you to be around all the time and I- I get it if you don’t think I’m worth it right now, I get it, I do, I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But I just, I miss you and I hate not being with you and I’ve been crying because I miss you and I love you and I just- I need you to know that, okay. Pleas-” 

He didn’t register Tommy’s breath hitching when he heard him say it, but he definitely registered his lips on his, effectively ending his ramble. 

And Buck melted into it. It’s been so long and also not long ago that he had kissed him, but still it felt like that first time. He felt like he was coming home.  

“Evan,” Tommy said when he pulled away, his voice wrecked. “I love you too.” 

It sent another wave of tears through him, but this time Tommy was crying with him, brushing a few of the tears away. “I love you.” 

“I know, sweetheart.” He kissed his birthmark, cradling Buck’s cheek in his hand. “And baby, there’s nothing to forgive. You’re worth everything, Evan, a thousand times over.” 

Buck started shaking his head and then Tommy’s thumb was gently pushing against his lips, shushing him before he could even start talking again. “Yeah, you could have said it better, I mean, Evan, I own a house, you live in a loft. I’m sorry too. I should have handled it better too. I shouldn’t have just spiraled, freaked out and left you.” His eyes softened. “I love you. I do. It doesn’t need to be perfect; I don’t need perfect; I just want you.”

He nodded and for the first time since he entered his loft, Tommy smiled. Buck smiled as well. 

They were long overdue for a discussion on their last conversation that night. Tommy would go over his fears from past relationships, Buck would explain his thought process, and they would talk for hours about it all. About the last two weeks and six months and where that left them now. 

They would start with keys to each other’s places. When Buck’s lease was closer to running out, they’d start the conversation again about moving in together, this time properly, without any freakouts and breakups.  

But for right now, they’d sit on the floor in Buck’s kitchen, holding each other for the first time in two weeks. They’d hold each other and cry out their tears, and then Buck would drag them up to frost the cupcakes. They’d eat them on the kitchen counter and then fall into bed together, Buck tucked into Tommy’s arms. They’d both get the first good night’s sleep in two weeks, and they’d wake up in the morning knowing things weren’t perfect, but they weren’t as broken any more.  

It didn’t need to be perfect as long as they had each other, so the rest was going to be easy. 

[viking-goat-420]

Fandom; one piece

Paring: Zoro/reader

Warnings; unsafe sex, biting, choking, possoves zoro

A/N: I know this took absolutely forever! I'm really sorry it's been a rough month for me and haven't been able to do much writing. As always feedback is always welcome and my ask box is open as well.

You can see your breath as you walk beside Brook where you were freezing in this part of wano. Things had taken a turn for the worst like normal and you all were now being hunted down. You had heard Zoro was badly injured so you came with Brook to see how he was doing, you were not expecting what you found though.

"We were just sleeping!" You hear Zoro yell and peek your head inside to find Zoro laying on a mat with a beautiful woman laying beside him and you feel your heart crack. Zoro and you had been fooling around and as time went on you had thought he had felt the same you did, guess not. Biting your lip you feel eyes on you and see Zoro stare at you but you don't look him in the eye.

"I'm going back to the hut Brook" you say loudly enough for everyone to hear as tears feel your eyes. You had no right to be angry. He was not yours to clam and he could do whatever he wanted but It still hurt more than you had liked.

"Well okay, are you sure? We just got here" he says looking at you, you look at him then finally at Zoro once you pull yourself together, you would not let him see how much this hurt you.

"Yeah, I have seen all I need too and he is clearly more than fine" you say harshly, venom laced at the end making Brook look at you oddly and you heard a groan come from the hut you were standing at.

"Oi! (Y/N)! Wait!" You hear Zoro call but you ignore him and keep walking. You bite your lip harshly and hold back yours when you feel him grab your arm.

"Let go!" You snap, turning and yanking your arm free, you were pissed and hurt and wanted to be left alone. Zoro glares at you and your tone.

"What is the matter with you!?" He growls clearly not happy with your attitude but you didn't really care at that point. You ball your hands into fits wanting to punch him but you think better of it.

"Why don't you go back to her, I'm done being your plaything Zoro!" You snarl and turn away from heading back into your hut slamming the slide door behind you leaving you in a low lit room with the only light coming from the fire. You roughly rub your eyes from the tears and you felt like you wanted to scream.

"You wanna explain what you mean by that" you jump and swing around at his voice, the glim in his eye is dangerous and you almost feel like prey under his stare.

"You heard exactly what I said Zoro! I'm done with whatever the hell this is! I'm done being in love with a man who doesn't feel the same! Im-" your rant is cut off as your back hits the wall and you look up at Zoro who now towers over you and you feel your stomach drop, you knew he would never hurt you but that look excited you more than it should.

"You're not leaving me (y/n) and you're more than a play thing! Your mine" he said huskily and your mouth goes dry at his words. Zoro leans down and kisses you deeply pulling your face and body close to him and your arms are placed on his chest. You try to push him away but he is hard as stone making him growl and nip your lip and you moan.

"But your injury?" You moan as he sucks a mark into your neck. Zoro chuckles darkly before he bites leaving a mark behind that he soothes with his tongue making you cry out.

"Nothing is going to stop me from showing you that you're mine in every way" he says huskily, never breaking eye contact, your hands run up his chest to rest behind his neck where you run your nails through his hair there making him shiver.

"And you're mine?" You whisper his lips so close to yours. Zoro reaches for your hand and he places it on his chest.

"Every last part of me til I take my last breath" he says, you lean up and kiss him deeply and he growls lifting you up and you wrap your legs around him and moan at the friction. Zoro carries you over to the mat on the floor and lays you down hovering over you. Zoro undresses you leaving you bere under him.

"Zoro!" You moan your back arching as he kisses and bites down your neck. You reach up pushing his kimono open and your nails run down his chest making him growl. You lean up kissing and biting his neck leaving marks behind and he groans grinding into you.

"Who do you belong to?" He asks huskily his hot length running through your folds making you moan and you look up at him.

"You zoro I belong to you, and you belong to me" you moan and he smirks before he slowly enters you and you cling to him. You let out a moan at the stretch and burn as he bottoms out, no matter how many times you two have done this he always feels too big.

“Always so wet and tight for me” he groans as he lets you adjust. You lean up and kiss him deeply, nipping his bottom lip making him growl.

“Always for you, now fuck me zoro I need you” you moan clinging to him tightly. Zoro groans and starts to move his thrusts rocking your body making your nails claw down his back.

“Fuck your mine! All mine” he growls his hand wrapped around your throat as he pounded into you making you cry out his name.

“Oh fuck zoro! There!” You cry out as your toes curl. Zoro snarls at the sounds he was making you make and every time your nails clawed down his back he would see stars.

“Fuck! I wanna feel you cum on my cock” he growled as he pounded into you. You cling to him as the knot grows tighter, you are so close.

“Zoro please, I'm so close!” You moan your hips thrusts up taking him deeper and he groans.

“Come for me” he groans and you tighten around him as you cum hard.

“Zoro!” You cry out as you cum, Zoro hips slams into you once more before he stalls and you feel his hot cum shoot inside of you.

“God Dammit (y/n)” he pants as he leans his head down trying to catch his breath as you do the same. Zoro pulls back and grins down at you as he slowly pulls out loving the face you make every time he does. You look up at him and stroke his face softly and he leans down and kisses you deeply, stealing your breath once again.

“Never forget your mind, but I'm always here to remind you” he chuckled dark and you lean up your naked breasts rub his chest and you feel his cock twitch. You grin and flip him on his back so you were now straddling him, his hands resting on your hips as you lean down close to his ear.

“your mine Zoro don't you forget that, don't make me chain you up” you say hottiy in his ear before biting his neck.

“Promise?” He chuckles darkly and you sit up a bit.

“Don't start something we don't have time for” you smirk, climbing off him and looking for your clothes.

“Just you wait” he grins.

[ya-zz]

It Has to End - It Will End

Ramattra x Reader

!! sa r/pe warning !! A/N: I am fairly open about my experience, having written about it in the past with a character from a different fandom. What is written below from the readers POV is what happened to me back in 2018. Some of you may ask or have wondered why I'm comfortable in writing r/pe, and this is why - I have been through it. If this helps even one person, then I have done something right... Also don't ask about word count I did this here and not in a doc-

Something had been off with you for awhile but the omnic couldn't place it. The distant stares, vacant eyes and shaky hands were anything but normal. He ruled it down to the nightmare you recently had, it was still eating away at you, he thought.

One night, when the two of you were seated on the balcony to watch the meteor shower that was supposedly happening, he figured that it was the right time to ask.

"Is everything okay? You have not been yourself recently." His head tilts to the side, optics glancing over at you.

Ramattra notices the hesitation before you peel your eyes away from the night sky. "Yeah. Suppose I'm just on edge."

"We have time-"

"I don't want to ruin the mood." You half smile at him.

"Your health and feelings are more important than some balls of dust falling from the atmosphere." He states, turning his entire body to face you. "Talk to me. Please."

You can hear the desperation in his voice as you follow suit, turning your body to sit in front of his. A shaky sigh escapes you as you look down at your hands resting on your lap.

"I can't forget what happened to me." You start, not wanting to look up at the omnic before you. "It happened so long ago but it still feels recent."

Ramattra stays silent, the only noise coming from him was his inner workings, the soft hum of his fans against the cool night time wind.

"It took me so long, no, too long, to realise what had happened to me. The way his hands grabbed my body. I can still feel them on my sides, my hips; the bruises from how tight he held me." Closing your eyes, you try to dismiss the scene, but it replays. A constant, torturous loop that never seemed to end. "He pushed himself inside of me… I was screaming, shouting at him to stop, but he didn’t, no matter how loud I cried… It felt like glass being dragged back and forth. After he… After he had finished, he just cleaned himself up, leaving me bent over his bed trying to collect myself."

The next sentence that leaves your mouth hits the omnic like a brick.

"He was a friend, Rama... Someone I trusted. Someone I knew for years and he did this to me." It was hard to hold back the tears that started falling down your cheeks. "It took me so long to realise what had happened, but by that point it was too late. I have to live with the fact that I was raped and there is no justice."

Ramattra freezes, hands tightly gripping the cloth around his thighs.

"He's out there living life as if nothing happened, and the worst part about it all?" You look up at the omnic as you wipe away the tear on your cheek. "I still had to see him."

The silence rings loud before being broken by the passing chilly wind. Ramattra goes to speak but nothing comes out. He couldn't believe what he was hearing; all this time, the anxiety, the flinching, the nightmares... You snap him out of his thoughts by continuing to speak.

"We had the same friend group. I avoided him as much as I could when I realised what happened, but nobody believed me when I finally said something... If they didn't believe me, why should anyone else?"

"You have the worst friends." Ramattra chimes in.

"I'm no longer friends with any of them." You laugh awkwardly. "I cut them off soon after."

"That does not change anything." He wants to lean forward, to hold you close, but your body language says otherwise - stiff, ready to push back.

You manage a half smile before continuing. "It comes back every now and then. I'll be having a good day and then it gets ruined by that... I want to it end."

"You have come far already. Opening up to me is the first step. You are holding on to it for what reason? You do not need to relive that moment anymore." Ramattra finally takes that leap and takes your hand in his.

You shrug, taking a moment to think as you watch his thumb smooth over your knuckles. "It's hard to let go of something so traumatic. I can't just snap my fingers and forget it. Something will trigger it and I go back to that isolated state."

"You have thought about different outcomes, yes?" Ramattra asks with a firm tone.

"Too many times." You breathe deeply. "I should've left or I should've fought back. I should've realised what had happened at that moment and gone to the police-"

"Does it make you feel better?"

"No. Worse. It makes me feel weak."

Ramattra hums and nods. "Then why do you keep doing it?"

You stutter when trying to come up with a response. "I suppose it made me feel better for a moment before it made me feel like shit."

"Perhaps you should try a different approach. Yes, it happened and no, you cannot change the past, but you are still here. You are living your life despite the event holding you back in some aspects. It does not make you weak. You are strong." Ramattra speaks softly. "You are stronger because of that."

You smile softly at his words but it quickly fades.

"You are not weak, [y/n]." He reiterates as he squeezes your hand. "Should I ever see this particular individual, I will make sure you have justice."

You couldn't help but laugh at his threat as you wipe away the remaining tears. "You are like a guard dog, you know that?"

"A very good one, no?" Ramattra shuffles closer to you, letting you lean your weight on him. "You deserve closure, to be free from that nightmare."

"One day..."

He keeps his optics on you for a moment longer, your heartbeat had slowed and you seemed more relaxed than before. There was a twinkle in your eyes as they widen, your body shifting forward as you point out a falling star.

"Rama, look!"

Though, he doesn't. His optics were still on you. Admiring you. He brings his head down, resting on the side of your neck. A soft buzzing, a kiss, is felt before he speaks.

"I am proud of you and how far you have come. Do not let this hold you back. You deserve the happiness and you are worthy of love. I am here each and every step of the way, no matter what comes your way. I have you, now and forever."

[pommunist]

This is mostly gonna be just a rant but it just baffles me how everything Qstudios has done since the beginning of the admins situation is a terrible pr move. So yeah this is just gonna talk how, even if you forget the immoral and potential illegal stuff that went on, I don’t think their strategy is doing any good for the studio’s image.

-Going radio silent publicly and privately : Kinda the original sin of all this mess tbh. This obviously just leaves the space for the ex admins to share their stories, even more so since they have been ignored privately beforehand when they tried to handle things internally. This also allowed for the union to publicly intervene and more ccs talking about it, and actual news article being made on it.

-Leaving the server open : Tbh I get wanting to leave it open, maybe to allow minecraft centered ccs to still make content or maybe because it’d be weird to close it right after new people got in but also I think it would have be better to close it temporarily while they focus on the changes they promised rather than having it getting deserted little by little until it feels like a ghost town. This + also not a good look to have so many npcs online when Q said there would be none until things get better (The current npcs are likely non volunteers, once again not a bad or illegal thing per say but not a good look). Closing it would also have made it so that the reopening would have been a big and probably positive event.

-Welcoming new ccs/new languages : This might just be because of scheduling necessities or whatever and something they couldn’t do later but it still made the community go :/// to get new people while on the flip side you had parts of the fandom leaving because of what was happening. Also not great for the new arrivals to start in such a weird climate, without admins help and with few people online on the server.

-Releasing merch at the worst time possible : This might have been something they couldn’t change, just like the arrival of the Koreans/Hugo, but it still isn’t a good look for them to release egg merch after it came out that some of the egg admins were poorly treated, especially when they haven’t stated clearly that benefits from the merch would go towards paying staff. It’s also not a good look for them to release new discounts every day, barely ten days after release. (Also the Qstudios Twt account retweeting every egg figures announcement except for Pomme will never not make me laugh)

-Making the twitter updates accounts active again : Yes it may just be that they’re using a bot or that it’s the people who are in charge of the Qstudios twitter account posting on it, both of which are not wrong per say. But of course people are gonna wonder if it’s new people being hired, of course speculation will happen when there’s a lack of transparency, of course ex admins are gonna be upset when it seems like things are continuing as if nothing happened, when they were fired without a warning, a thanks or even a sorry.

And now we have the two points that are kinda in a « you fucked up so bad it’s almost funny and I almost feel bad for you guys » category

-« Hey guys out of all the people we exploited and treated poorly you know which ones we’re gonna make eat dirt the most ? Hell yeah the ones that are from a part of the world who literally have a whole cliche about them complaining and rioting for anything and everything. Also happen to be the same ones whose community we alienated for months by sidelining them. Also happen to be a community who, during this time, has grown quite close to our most active community (who are themselves quite mad at us by now) to the point that they are making memes about the two of them being in love with each other. Yeah surely this can only go well »

-« Oh no, people actually really care » : QSMP Fans in general just loved and appreciated all the work the admins did, whether they were twitter admins, builders, actors, writers… This is even more true since the situation also revealed that some admins things people have been most critical on (lore being weirdly interrupted, french being ignored…) were not these admins fault. And of course, you have the eggs admins case. How do you make viewers and ccs alike get SO attached to these kid characters, as if it was their children, while mistreating the people playing them and not expect this to blow up in your face at some point. It’s like you managed to catch lightning in a bottle and then left it to rot thinking this wouldn’t end up badly. Weirdly this one makes me kinda hopeful bc Qstudios kinda HAVE to fix it or else they lose on of their main selling points.

[thetomorrowshow]

Whumptober 10 - Blow to the Head

title: head explodes. ouch. gets up and acts normal.

fandom: hermitcraft smp

cw: blood, head injury

~

Skizz’s build is not stupid.

Ugly? Sure. He’ll call it ugly. It’s an ugly mess of deepslate.

But stupid? Not in a million years. He’s a Hermit, after all (and the name fills him with pride, makes his chest puff out). Nothing he works on is stupid, by nature of being a Hermit. The Hermits aren’t stupid.

Except Impulse. Impulse is pretty stupid.

Skizz’s build isn’t stupid.

That’s what Skizz tells himself, day after day as he lugs stone bricks up the ever-growing pyramid, his walk getting longer and longer the taller it gets.

“It’s not stupid, it’s not stupid, it’s not stupid,” Skizz grunts, pushing and heaving at a stubborn chunk of rock. It’s going to be beautiful! His beautiful hierarchy of needs pyramid. The other Hermits won’t know what hit ‘em.

Skizz doesn’t really know what hits him either, at first.

One moment he’s there, heaving with this stupid rock, and the next—

He’s on his back, the scaffolding bridge creaking under him.

He blinks, and his vision explodes into pain.

His head is—his head is rupturing, it feels like—like someone swung a baseball bat at him as hard as they could, like someone dropped a bowling ball on his head. It hurts, it hurts more than anything that he’s ever felt, hurts more than his aches from shifting stone, more than a creeper explosion, more than his appendix bursting when he was nine.

It hurts. A lot.

Skizz’s arms feel like jello when he lifts a hand to feel his head, gingerly brushing around the most painful parts. He’s crying, he realizes dumbly, tears streaming down his face at a rate unheard of.

His hand comes away dripping with blood.

What? Did his head actually burst?

That can’t be good.

Skizz doesn’t really know how he manages it, but after a couple of long moments of lying on the scaffolding, he finally manages to roll over, getting his shaky arms under him and pushing himself to his knees.

He feels terrible. Probably the worst he’s ever felt. He might puke from the pain, honestly.

Looking down gives him the dizzying sense of how high up he really is. How is he meant to get down from here without calling for help?

He really doesn’t want to call for help. The other Hermits would never just let their head explode. Rookie mistake.

He can’t see all that well. The ground far, far below is hazy and spinning, just enough that his eyes can’t focus on it. He can probably land on it though, right?

If he falls. If he lets himself slip off the edge, engage his elytra. Yeah. Yeah, elytra. Why was he thinking to try and climb down from here? That’s stupid.

Then, before Skizz can consciously think about it, he’s falling.

His stomach lurches to his throat as the world tilts even more, rapidly whirling around him, and the wind tears at his broken skull in ways that he can’t quite understand but can definitely feel.

This isn’t good. No, wait, he’s falling—

It’s instinct that saves him more than anything, his elytra flicking open at the last second to slow his descent, and Skizz lands on his knees on the ground and once again almost pukes.

Ohhhh man. That was not a good feeling. 

Skizz groans lowly, balls up his trembling fists. He’s got this. He can get to his bed without passing out or vomiting.

There’s a chunk of deepslate beside him, the size of a small dog. He stares at it as it pulses, one side of it splattered with red.

His fingers brush it briefly, its sharp edges rough under the pads of his fingertips.

Why is it here?

He ignores the rock for now, and just stumbles to his feet as best he can (which means to his knees, too unsteady to get all the way upright). He crawls, every breath coming in a gasp, his knees slipping out from under him.

There’s liquid dripping down his neck. He can’t lift his hand to see what it is, he just has to keep going. If he can get to his bed, he can take a little nap and be fine.

He can be fine. He just needs to rest. He has—he has the world’s worst migraine. That’s all it is. He needs to sleep it off.

His eyes are closed. He opens them.

It hurts. Everything is pulsing and too-bright and too-loud and—

His eyes are closed. He opens them.

He can see his bedroom door. He can smell blood. It’s right there, though, somehow he got here through all the pain and he can rest.

His eyes are closed. He opens them.

His bed is there.

-

“Oh, Skizz! Skizzleman! Come on, we have official permit business! Are you in here?”

Skizz’s mouth is dry. His mouth is dry and he can’t open his eyes, his head—

It feels like someone split open his head with an axe. It feels like he’s going to die.

“. . . Um, Skizz? Skizz, there’s . . . there’s a lot of blood. . . .”

Skizz licks his lips. He’s so tired. He could pass out right here, right now, wherever it is he is. He probably will.

“Oh! Oh my goodness, Skizz—”

Someone touches him, touches his head and it hurts it hurts it hurts—

“Oh no, okay, what happened? Can you hear me? Skizz? I’m calling for help, don’t worry, uh—”

Skizz pries open his eyes.

He can’t see.

He can kind of see. There’s wayyy too many black dots swimming across his vision, and he can kind of see a familiar face that he can’t quite put a name to. He moves his lips, tries to speak, but the words don’t surface.

He closes his eyes—just for a moment—and there’s another face there.

Impulse.

Impulse smiles at him, squeezes his hand. He’s holding his hand. That’s nice.

“You,” Impulse says, leaning in close, “are so stupid. You hear me, Skizz? Stupid.”

Skizz blinks.

His head really, really hurts.

-

“Drugs are great,” Skizz says, tugging at his hospital bracelet. “I love drugs. Do you love drugs?”

Impulse huffs out a laugh. “Dude. Shut up.”

“I can’t even feel my head explosion,” continues Skizz. “It feels so good.”

“Your head didn’t explode, idiot. Why weren’t you wearing a hardhat, huh? You know how dangerous brain damage can be in a respawn.”

Skizz doesn’t answer that. He hadn’t even realized there was a loose chunk of stone above him. He didn’t know he needed a hardhat.

“I was kind of scared,” he admits. It feels silly, now. “I didn’t know what happened. I was just—boom. You know?”

“That’s why you need a hardhat.”

The drugs really do feel good.

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbles. “How many stitches?”

“Thirty-three.”

“Good number. Three-three.”

“Go back to sleep.”

“Jerk.”

“Stupid.”

“Love ya.”

“Love ya.”

[angelasscribbles]

Welcome to Oxford

Fandom: Heaven’s Secret Requiem

Pairings: Lane x Greg x Anna

Word Count: 1,925

Rating: Pretty PG honestly

Warnings for this chapter: None

A/N: I was writing this for Flufftober but didn’t finish it on time.

My other stuff: Master List.

Lane’s introduction to Oxford was less than ideal. Having spent the night wrapped in Anna’s arms, sleeping in a gently rocking train car filled with warmth and safety, she had let herself believe that the worst was behind her.

She was quickly disabused of that notion. Her awakening had been a shitshow. A stalled train, an attack by an infected, and a long wait for a promised car that never materialized were followed by a slog through stinging cold rain and ankle-deep mud.

She had been terrified that they weren’t going to let her in. The immediate and unwavering support of the squad had been gratifying.

For the first time in a long time, perhaps in her entire life, she was starting to feel a sense of belonging, as if she were a part of something.

She was pointed to a building that still had most sections of its walls and told there was an empty room on the third floor. That meant climbing stairs, but she didn’t mind.

Entering the room that had been suggested to her, her eyes widened in surprise. It was big. There was an expansive living area with tall, stained glass windows reaching from floor to ceiling and even a desk, so she could continue her work in relative comfort.

Across the room was a door to a separate sleeping area with an enormous bed. She scurried quickly around the suite, inspecting her new home. Her initial delight with the space quelled as she considered she would be sleeping in it alone.

She had grown accustomed to sharing a room with Anna or spending the night in sleeping bags with the entire squad. Being alone in an unfamiliar place held little appeal.

She was pulled out of her thoughts by a loud knock.

“Who is it?” she called tentatively through the door.

“Open the door. We have food!”

The familiar voice flooded her with warmth and sent her heart dancing through her chest.

She didn’t have to ask who he meant by ‘we’. There was only one person Greg would bring with him to visit her. She quickly pulled the door open to let them in.

Greg pushed into the room, his arms full of bags of food containers. He whistled as his head swiveled to take in her new space. “So, this is where you’re going to stay. It’s nice here. There’s even some light.”

He deposited the food onto the top of the desk that Anna had hurriedly cleared and then collapsed on the sofa across from Lane as if he owned the place.

“Yes,” Lane smiled. “Though I’m surprised no one has claimed this one.”

Anna’s brows furrowed as she looked around. “It is strange this room is empty. Although, we were gone for a long time. Maybe everything has changed.” Moving her attention back to the desk, Anna rummaged through the bags and took food from them one by one. “Greg ran to the dining room first. You know, he’s always hungry. But we thought about it and decided to take dinner with us. You’re probably hungry too, but you’d refuse to eat in there. Everyone new gets stared at, and you’re not a fan of extra attention.”

“Did you run to the dining room first, too or did you follow Greg there?”

Anna stopped setting out the food as her eyes flicked first to Greg and then to Lane. “Uh…”

“I’m sorry. Was that a rude question? I’ve just noticed how close you two are. Closer than either of you are with the rest of the squad, that is,” Lane explained hurriedly. She flushed as she looked away, sure they could read the reason for her curiosity written all over her face.

“No, you’re fine.” Greg shook his head. “Anna and I are close. We’re…. friends. Right?” He turned his head to search Anna’s face for her reaction.

“Yeah,” she nodded. “Friends.”

Sure.

Noting the awkward tension her question had created, Lane quickly changed the subject. “So, you lived here before?”

She swore she could see the relief in both of them as the topic moved away from their personal relationship.

Anna and Greg spent the next half hour regaling Lane with tales about the base. They laughed, slapped each other’s hands as they pretended to fight over the food, and generally relaxed, letting themselves be happy to be back in a place they considered home.

Lane listened as she ate and watched the easy camaraderie the two had with each other. She felt a twinge of longing deep within her.

She was struck with a sudden thought. “Where are your rooms?”

 Anna waved toward the far wall. “I live in a pretty similar corridor, but in the building next door. Greg lives near the gym. It’s a small closet that barely fits him.”

Greg rolled his eyes with a wry chuckle. “She’s just jealous. Don’t pay her any mind.”

The realization she would be alone swept over Lane, leaving an empty aching in her soul. “Is there anyone living on my floor?”

Anna and Greg exchanged glances.

“Are you worried?” Anna leaned forward, watching her face closely.

Lane shrugged. “It’s a normal question.”

Anna smiled conspiratorially and quickly stood up. She sat down next to Lane on the chair and draped her arms around the other woman’s shoulders. “Hey, don’t worry. I think the base is the safest place in the world right now.” She wrapped her arms and legs around the other woman, pulling herself practically onto her lap.

“Are you trying to strangle me?” Lane laughed while playfully swatting at her.

“I’m just trying to comfort you!” Anna giggled as she tightened her grip and buried her face in Lane’s hair.

“When did you become so affectionate?” Greg asked in astonishment.

“The cold nights in Siberia change people.” Anna grinned, pulling Lane even closer.

Lane gave up the struggle and slipped her arms around the other woman’s waist. She pressed her head into Anna’s midsection with a contented sigh.

Greg watched in a daze, holding his glass by his mouth as if he forgot to take a sip.

His relationship with Anna was hard fought and never spoken of out loud. It was comprised of countless nights keeping each other company on guard duty, the subtle shifting from squad members to friends, and maybe something more, as they chose to sit next to each other at mealtimes, spend their downtime together, and confide in each other about their lives in the before times.

Lane, on the other hand, had taken him by storm. She had come out of literally nowhere and somehow ran away with his heart when he hadn’t been looking.

He was no fool. He’d noticed how close Lane and Anna were becoming. He feared that they would fall for each other, leaving him alone. The thought of losing Anna had kept him from openly pursuing Lane and vice versa.

Anna’s smile faded as she glanced up and caught Greg’s expression. Releasing Lane, she moved guiltily away. She was playing with fire, and she knew it. Her newly burgeoning feelings for Lane were at odds with the relationship she thought she had been building with Greg. Not to mention she was pretty sure her brother was interested in Lane as well.

It was all so complicated.

“We should go.” Anna stretched as she made a point not to look directly at either Lane or Greg. “It’s getting late.”

“Yeah, guess it is.” Greg agreed, as he reluctantly rose from his seat.

Lane practically leapt out of her chair. “Wait!”

Anna blinked at her in confusion.

Greg felt an inexplicable flash of hope stab through him. “Yeah?”

Lane flushed from head to toe. “I…. uh… was just thinking that there’s so much room in here you could stay if you want.”

Anna’s eyes locked on Greg’s face before asking, “Which one of us are you talking to?”

“Both of you.” Lane took a deep breath and rushed on before either of them could speak, “I mean, I’ve gotten so used to having you in the same room, it just seems weird not to have you here and if Greg’s room is really that small, I just thought…” she trailed off as horror at what she had just proposed swept through her. They were both going to laugh at her.

Greg’s voice was quiet and low. “Lane. There’s only one bed.”

Her eyes closed as she pulled in a fortifying breath and whispered, “I know.”

Greg’s eyes found Anna’s trying to gauge her reaction to what Lane was suggesting. He saw his own internal battle reflected, but only briefly.

Anna hesitated for just an instant before desire and a realization about what she wanted swept over her.

Did she have genuine feelings for Greg? Yes. Had anything come of those feelings despite a year of them both dancing around the issue? No.

Lane, on the other hand…. Lane had been in her life for less than a month, but she never hid her feelings. She was physically affectionate, emotionally supportive, and mentally challenging in all the right ways. Most importantly, she was offering a way forward, something she and Greg hadn’t been able to accomplish in all the time they’d spent together. Out of fear perhaps, or uncertainty of the future. Either way, she was not about to pass up a sure chance with Lane for a huge maybe with Greg.

Especially not when Lane was offering her the opportunity to have them both.

Greg’s eyes widened as he watched the decision flash across Anna’s face.

Anna’s face broke out in a satisfied grin as she sashayed back over to Lane. “Are you proposing what I think you’re proposing?”

Relief whooshed out of Lane at the unmistakable desire in Anna’s eyes. She was into the idea. No one was laughing. She nodded her head with a hopeful smile. “I am.”

Greg’s worst fear, that the two women he had feelings for would fall for each other, leaving him alone, was about to materialize right in front of him.

He had been so worried that getting too close to either of them would cause him to lose the other that he hadn’t let himself cross any boundaries with either. And because of that, he was on the brink of losing them both.

Unless he took the chance that was being offered.

By some miracle, the universe was telling him that he could pursue a relationship with both of them at the same time. That their obvious feelings for each other were not a deterrent to their feelings for him.

Two sets of eyes locked on him, waiting for a response.

He had no idea how this was going to work.

But he wasn’t stupid.

“Yes…. Yes!” He stumbled over a footstool in his haste to close the distance between them. He wrapped Lane in a tight embrace and spun her around as she laughed. Then he turned to Anna and repeated the process.

When everyone’s feet were back on the ground, Anna flung an arm around each of them with a delighted laugh. “Come here, both of you!”

Lane and Greg threw their arms around each other and Anna as they joined in her laughter.

They clung to each other, taking comfort in the knowledge that in an uncertain world, they would always have each other. None of them knew what the future held, but they knew that whatever it brought, they would face it together.

Maybe it wasn’t that complicated after all.

[dreamingofep]

Forbidden Love pt. 11 💔❣️

Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Prompt: Reuniting with Elvis was supposed to be the highlight of your summer, but with unresolved tensions between you two, things aren't what they seem. [Fem! reader]

TW: cussing, angst, tension

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: Hi everyone! Haven’t posted anything for this one in a bit! Sorry about that! This one only has 2 chapters left so I’ll be posting more soon. These pics make me feel like a puddle🫠Hope you like this next part.

🖤

After a week and a half of staying with him, you were quite comfortable. Without even trying, Elvis was your home. You had never felt so at peace before. Things would never be the same now. You tried just being friends with him and time and time again, it doesn’t work. You needed each other on a different level and couldn’t stay away. You weren’t sure how you two were going to pull this off, but you weren’t going to give up just because it was getting hard.

For the most part, you two hadn’t hadn’t had any roadblocks yet. You were still careful in the house and always made sure the house was empty before walking around freely. Elvis convinced Dianne to keep staying at her sister's for the next few weeks. That didn’t stop her from calling every day. It irked you how Elvis would continuously answer the phone without fail and feed into her every last whim. Nothing ever came of those empty promises he would make to her but it drove you crazy. You tried not to make an argument out of that situation. You had to remind yourself that you had him all to yourself, not her.

On the other hand, you know you need to make decisions. You needed to talk to John about a ton of things that were bothering you but you needed to start with what he was doing with all the money he was getting paid. It agitated you that he was pissing away all the money he was earning and he couldn’t even make rent.

On a quiet Friday evening, you look at the clock and see it is almost time for dinner. You change into a nicer dress, which Elvis kindly bought for you. Being around Elvis so much made you dress nicer than you ever had. He was always dressed to the nines no matter the time of day. But he didn’t want you going back to your apartment if John was going to be there. He knew John would try to make you feel bad for leaving and try to get you to stay somehow.

A quiet knock on the door makes you look up and you feel your heart flutter.

“Come in.” You say quickly as you go to the closet to put on some cute heels.

Elvis walks in looking down at the floor, looking damn good in a brown suede jacket and red scarf draped on his neck. As good as he looks, you can’t ignore how his eyes are timid and full of pain when he finally looks at you. Something is wrong. His face always lights up when he sees you.

“What’s wrong Elvis?” You ask him stopping in your tracks.

He takes a long, ragged breath before speaking,

“Dinner is ready,” he says quietly. He still won’t look at you, his eyes burning a hole in the carpet at this point. You grew wary and didn’t understand what brought on this behavior.

“Elvis, are you okay?” You ask.

“Yeah, come on,” he says quietly, opening the door for you.

You both make it to the dining room table and Elvis pulls your chair out for you. The uncomfortable silence only grew. You two didn’t normally mind silence but this was completely different. He sits at the head of the table and you are to the right of him. Both of your plates sit there steaming, not a word spoken.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” You say sharply.

“Please, eat dinner, we can talk after,” he says coldly.

“No, I can’t eat if you won’t even look at me! What’s going on?” Your mind races at what could be the problem. Your head only makes up the worst-case scenarios and it doesn’t do your nerves any good.

“Umm, well-, I really don’t want to tell you this because it’s going to hurt you but you need to know,” he says carefully.

“Okay, tell me, I can handle it,” you try to say strongly but you are too nervous.

“I did some digging… I wanted to know what John was up to and where the money I’ve been paying him was going,” he explained.

“Oh, okay, did you find out what’s going on?”

A part of you didn’t want to know. You didn’t want to hear the shady behavior he was being a part of. But if you were to end this, like you’ve been wanting to for some time, it would be best to have a clear understanding of what kind of person he’s become.

“He’s been late coming here to work pretty much every day that he’s started working for me. I don’t like that one bit. Then a few weeks ago, you came to me crying about his behavior and that really upset me. I hate seeing you like that. So I knew I needed to figure out what was going on with him too,” he says low. He looks behind his shoulder before continuing, making sure it is just you two in the room.

“Honey I-, I followed him one day when he said you called and needed him to come home right away. I knew that was bullshit because you were filming that day, not at home waiting for him,” he snarls. His tone makes the hair in your arms stand up. You could feel how much he didn’t like John in this moment. How strongly he felt for you…

“So I followed him and he was in a neighborhood in Bel Air and-,” he grabs your hand, his breathing shaky as he tries to go on, “he pulled up to this house and this woman was standing out on the porch waiting for him… I saw them kiss and-, that’s all I needed to see to understand what was going on… I’m really sorry honey.” He says as he shakes his head.

You felt numb. You weren’t sure if you should be angry, sad, annoyed, or everything in between. You knew things were not good between you two already, but the confirmation that he was doing this for God knows how long still hurt to hear. You wanted to have this blind faith in people that they can be good. John was not a part of that percentage though. He was an opportunist. Someone gave him attention when you weren’t so he clung to that attention until he was tired of it.

“Fucking bastard,” you mutter under your breath. He looks at you a little shocked, not expecting such an outburst.

“Did you know?” He asks gently.

“I always had a feeling. We stopped making time for each other and everything went downhill these last few years. I can say I’m not the least surprised,” you tell him.

“Baby I’m sorry you’ve felt like this. It’s just awful. You have no idea how hard it was to not get out of my car and beat the hell out of him for putting you through all of this,” he grits through his teeth. Your body stiffens at his tone, he had never talked this way around you and threw you by surprise. You squeezed his hand momentarily, trying to assure him you’re okay.

“You deserve better honey,” he says low. His eyes have that sensual heavy look to them, burning their way into your skin. You felt on fire and you couldn’t say anything to assure him that you’re going to be okay. It did hurt to hear your worst fears have come true so you couldn’t lie that you were completely unphased.

“It’s okay, I’ll be okay,” you say shakily.

“I’m so sorry honey,” he murmurs, kissing the back of your hand. He’s so overcome with emotion and you can see how he’s trying to make the situation better. He pulls at your hand slightly to get you closer to him. You stand up from your chair and sit on the corner of the table, looking at him with concern.

“I’ll take care of you, honey, don’t worry about a thing,” he assured you.

That’s everything you wanted to hear from him. You wanted him to take care of your every need.

“I know,” you whisper, your breath wavering.

You didn’t want to cry about it and didn’t want to think about John anymore. You wanted Elvis to distract you from real life. LA was not very forgiving and kept giving you one struggle after another.

Elvis kept looking at you like he was about to rip your clothes off and as much as you would love that, you didn’t want to do that here.

“Get me out of here,” you tremble.

His face flashes a bit of concern, “what do you mean baby?”

“Just get me out of here. I don’t want to be in LA, let’s leave for Vegas tonight,” you plead.

He nods his head and stands up, pulling you into his arms and holding you there.

“It’s okay baby, it’s going to be okay. Go pack your bag, I’ll take care of everything,” he coos, leaning down and kissing you.

You sigh into his mouth and hold onto him tighter. This was exactly what you needed. You needed his lips on you soothing all your worries away. He gets carried away easily, his hands squeezing at your hips, wanting you completely. You want to let him take care of you and have you forget about anything else that might’ve troubled you.

The sound of the front door opening scared you out of your skin and you quickly pushed yourself away from him, turning your back to whoever just walked in.

“Hey EP I-.”

You recognize that voice instantly and freeze. No no no this cannot be happening.

“Y/n?” They say.

You slowly turn around and face John, your stomach dropping looking at him. You stay silent, there was nothing to say to him. Not after how he’s treated you and not after the revelation Elvis told you tonight.

“Where have you been?” He asks you a bit coldly.

“I’ve been here,” you say stiffly.

John looks at Elvis, shocked at your admission.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Elvis has a pompous look on his face before answering and you find it amusing, “you didn’t ask,” he says flatly.

“Why didn’t you tell me where you were?” John says giving you an annoyed look.

“I didn’t feel like you would care.”

“Really!? So you just disappear for a few weeks and I don’t have the right to know where you went?!” He says raising his voice.

You were over his attitude and couldn’t be here a minute longer.

“I know you don’t love me anymore, I’ve known it for quite some time now. I don’t need to answer to someone who doesn’t care about me,” you scowl.

“Unbelievable,” he mutters under his breath.

You glance over at Elvis and see he has the same smug look on his face.

“You were about to go pack your things, right honey? Why don’t you go finish that,” Elvis tells you with a smile. You glance at John and see the disgust he has on his face when he hears Elvis call you honey. To most people, it’s a harmless Southern thing. But John hated it and always has. He must have felt threatened in some way and it always stuck with him.

You thought that was a great idea Elvis proposed though. Anything to get you away from John. You could barely be in the same room as him without blowing up on him. You start to make your way to the bedroom when John starts moving in your direction.

“Woah honey, where do you think you’re going,” he snaps, grabbing your arm to still you. He grabbed you too roughly and looked down at how tight his hand was around your forearm. You pull your arm away from him and look at him shocked. You see red marks where his fingers were and it disgusts you.

“Get your hands off of me!” You snarl. You never wanted to feel his hands touch your skin ever again. It made you so angry with not knowing how long he’s had this affair and how he would still come home and touch you. Elvis is quick to act and steps between you two, his large stature blocking you easily from John.

“You need to relax, right now,” he says through his teeth.

“What’s your problem EP?! You're always so defensive when it comes to her.” He says annoyed

“You don’t need to grab her like that,” he spits back. John takes a step back from him and crosses his arms against his chest, analyzing Elvis in front of him.

“You’re awfully fond of my wife, aren’t you?” He scowls.

Elvis hums softly to himself, amused with such a question.

“I am, always have been, are you?” He questions, cocking his head as he sizes up John.

Your heart hammers away at the challenge. You didn’t think Elvis would say such a thing to John but you can tell he was just as mad as you were over this whole thing.

“Excuse me?!” John exclaims.

“It’s a pretty simple question, are you fond of your wife?” Elvis asks again, anger flowing off of him in waves.

“You’re ridiculous! How dare you question my feelings!”

“You haven’t asked anyone where she’s been! You couldn’t give a shit about anything she does!”

“I do! She’s my wife. You don’t need to defend her shitty behavior.”

Elvis chuckles, “Oh you’re one to talk,” he snaps.

Your heart drops, oh this isn’t good. You’d never think Elvis would confront John about all of this. You look over at John and see how his face lost color and he’s looking at Elvis mortified.

“I know, I know all about where you’ve been sneaking off to. So you have some audacity to yell at her for running to a friend when her husband is being a pathetic excuse of one,” Elvis snarls. John takes another step back, weak and aghast.

Elvis takes a step closer to him, not letting him cower down. “You’re done workin’ for me. I don’t want you near me either. You’re fuckin’ toxic for anyone to be around you.”

He turns around to find your frightened eyes and not sure what to do.

“Go wait in my car, we’re going,” he says sternly.

You lower your eyes and quickly go to the front door. You couldn’t look at Elvis when he was so upset. His eyes seared through you and could have killed you. You reach the door and Elvis’ voice makes your hair stand up.

“And she’s not yours, she never has been. Don’t you dare ever utter those words again.” He growls.

Shit.

You rush out to the driveway and go towards Elvis’ Cadillac. There are some of the guys standing outside with questioning looks on their faces. You grew extremely nervous and anxious with their deafening stares.

“Elvis wants to go to Vegas tonight,” you say sheepishly. They don’t move or say anything but their attention gets turned to the booming of Elvis’ voice coming from the house and the sound of thing breaking inside. He was over the edge and fuming. They don’t make a move, knowing better than to get in the way of Elvis when he’s mad.

Elvis bursts through the front door and looks beside himself.

“We’re going to Vegas tonight. Call in a plane for us,” Elvis demands. Everyone starts to scramble and you quickly get in the car. Elvis puts the key in the ignition and rushes out the gates. The radio blares on a famous LA radio station and it was one of Elvis's songs. You didn’t recognize the tune, it must have been one of his newer songs. A pang of guilt hits you when you realize it’s been well over a month and you still haven’t listened to his new album.

We’re caught in a trap

I can’t walk out

Because I love you too much baby…

Only the first few lines are played before Elvis frustratedly shuts the radio. You stay silent the whole ride to LAX. You were holding onto the door handle the whole way with how fast he was driving. You both get to the airport in record time and he opens your door for you.

A small charter jet was waiting on the tarmac for you two and Elvis led you into the cabin. The engines were roaring and the captain was waiting for Elvis’ call to take off. He sits next to you and holds your hand on his lap. You hold on as the plane starts to take off and slowly ascend into the sky.

After a few moments, you gently caress his face and make him look at you. His anger subsided and all that was left was the look of defeat. You hated seeing him like that and it was because of you in a way. You lean in and kiss his lips, savoring the moment. He sighs into your touch and he places his hand on your cheek. There wasn’t any rush with your kisses, they were just soft and tender. His hands scorched into your skin, clouding any thoughts of the consequences of doing this with him.

“Take care of me,” you whimper pulling at his scars around his neck.

He nods his head and groans at the proposal you gave him.

“Of course, you know I will,” he breathes, pulling you onto his lap.

You instantly wrap your arms around his neck and let your fingers intertwine in his soft hair. Your lips crash into his and the once soft, tender kisses you began giving him soon turned into intense, fiery, needy ones.

You felt lightheaded by the way he was kissing you and how his hands kept drifting up and down your thigh. You wanted him to make all your problems disappear and never get out of his arms. It felt like a whirlwind these last few hours and if you had found out all of that on your own, you don’t know how you would’ve handled it. But something about having Elvis back in your life made you handle things differently. It was complicated, yes, but you would never change a thing that’s happened. He was exactly what you needed.

*

Once you landed and a car picked you two from the airport, it discreetly took you to the International. Elvis was explicit that he wanted his arrival to be discrete and gain no attention. He technically wasn’t supposed to arrive for another two days so the hotel was not ready for him. You were so nervous being here with him. All you needed was one camera to take a picture of you next to Elvis and it would be all over the front pages of magazines.

You ride the elevator all the way to the penthouse and have a sigh of relief once you know you’re out of the view of an onlooker. Elvis loosely keeps his arm around your hip, making sure you aren’t going anywhere. The suite's double doors had his name on a gold plaque in black letters. He opened the door for you and you can’t believe the grandeur of the room. It screamed Elvis everywhere you looked. The heavy black curtains were open and the whole front wall was windows overlooking the loud, boisterous city. There was a piano directly in the middle of the windows and the couches were black velvet and looked plush.

You explore the suite, leaving Elvis in the front room as he makes a phone call. Every room in here was decorated with the most lavish things and you could see how they did as much as possible to accommodate Elvis. You quickly find the master suite and and sit on the edge of the bed.

The world felt heavy on your shoulders and you thought being so far from home would help but it didn’t. You can’t help but think about what was next. Would you get a lawyer and get divorce papers? How long do you stay with Elvis? Would he be willing to take your relationship to another level? There was too much swirling in your head and none of it was going to be easy. A few tears fall down your cheeks thinking of the uncertainty of your life.

And that comment Elvis man before you left the house..

She’s not yours, she never has been…

Did he always want to be with you? Or did he say that just to get under John’s skin? You wish you hadn’t heard that part because now you need it to be true and be his.

You see a shadow approach from the doorway and sniffle.

His eyes look hurt when he looks at you. He hates seeing you like this.

“Baby,” he murmurs walking to you.

You stand up when he’s in front of you to hug him. You needed to wrap your arms around him and feel that sense of safety that you do with him.

“Everything is going to be alright. You have nothing to worry about,” he reassures you.

“Thank you,” you manage to squeak out

“I’ll take care of everything and have some new clothes come in for you. We’ll figure everything out together.”

You lift your head from his chest and pull him back toward the bed.

“Can you lay with me, just for a little while?” You ask.

His lips curve into a little smile, “anything for you.”

•

•

•

Tagging:

@loving-elvis @neptuneismysister@velvetelvis @ccab @presleyenterprise @theresalwaysep

@sillybookmarks @dkayfixates

@ellie-24 @rktismylife-blog.

@myradiaz @tacozebra051

@18lkpeters @flwrs4aust @emma181873

@austinswhitewolf@eliseinmemphis

@everythingelvispresley@chasingwildflowers

@dontwanttoputanything. @ohjustpeachy-

@elvisalltheway101@austinsmutler@kingdomforapony.

@generoustreemystic @claire-elvisgirl

@ashtag6887 @burnthheparaphilia @richardslady121

@jaqueline19997

@returntopresley. @iloveelvis @rimartin11@that-hotdog @louisejoy86@misspresley@cattcb @annapresley8

@arrolyn1114 @raginginkedslut @epthedream69

@mh777

@50sexyshadestashionista

@oldhOllywOod @hooked-on-elvis @livelovedilfs

@sloppiest-of-jos @thisis-theway@gatheraheart

@aphroditebabygirl @faeolwen

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Vesuvia Weekly: Fashion Intervention

~ here's another sketch of an afternoon with my fandom self-insert :P ~

1.8k words

One of the best parts about being the type of person to prefer sitting in corners is needing to worry less about my appearance.

One of the worst parts about being the type of person who doesn't worry much about appearance is having six friends who definitely do.

The part I don't understand is when my fashion sense got so horrifically bad that said six friends actually banded together to stage an intervention. In the marketplace. While I'm writing. With Selasi, that delightful baker, enabling them.

"Ah-ah-ah, don't try to resist! You're a fine young man, my friend, but we all have our weaknesses. Appearances are easy to fix!"

My neck is going to start hurting if I keep having to look up like this. Julian is gesturing enthusiastically, his coat billowing in the breeze as he gets caught up in his monologue on self-improvement. Do I point out the irony, or -

"He doesn't look that bad, he just needs some more ... smrthrgnh." The last word of Asra's sentence is muffled by a mouthful of bread. My bread. Why is he eating my snack?

"Why are your clothes so shapeless anyways? Show off a little something! You should do like I do and get everything tailored. Work that figure!" Lucio takes a few heeled steps and then spins, striking a pose to show off his suit. Muriel frowns.

"It's okay if you don't want to show off." Thank you. "But maybe you could ... pay attention to patterns." I take it back.

"Yeah, what's up the funky looking skeleton? There's no way the fabric it's painted on is going to last longer than a few washes."

"It's merch, Portia." She huffs at my defense and plops down across from me, brushing my parchment out of the way. "I like it because of the pattern, the quality is just ... unfortunate, sometimes."

"I believe we've made our intentions clear." Nadia sails into the discussion and gives me a no-nonsense look. "It would be remiss of us to allow our friend to sit in a public space with so little care for his appearance. Especially when he is one of Vesuvia's aspiring authors."

I try a pleading look, but the only person who starts to look remotely guilty is Julian. Portia's elbow to his ribs makes quick work of that.

"I have shi- I mean, I have stuff to write. And to get done. If you want to look through my wardrobe and help me put together outfits later, we can, but I don't want to leave my corner right now."

"I cannot say this response is unexpected," the Countess gives me a sly but friendly smile, "so I've prepared something for you in advance. When the time comes to return it to me, I expect you to do so with a cleared schedule and an open mind to fresh aesthetics." She holds out her hand, an intricate set of silver chains dripping from her fingers. "From my personal collection - I expect it will suit you nicely."

I sigh. The sooner I accept, the sooner I can go back to not being scrutinized by six pairs of frustratingly kind eyes. "Thank you. I'll take very good care of it."

Nadia moves the jewelry out of the way as I reach for it. "I desire something in exchange."

"What ... what something?"

"I'd like your sweater, please."

"My hoodie? But it's so comfy!"

Her eyelids droop in poorly concealed annoyance. "Your 'hoodie' is in a severe state of disrepair. I can see the threads poking out from the seams, young man, I don't care to see my prized jewelry hidden under such a tired item."

"... okay." I squirm out of my hoodie, handing over the pile of fabric in exchange for the chains. The short sleeves of my undershirt leave my arms exposed, something that I thought I did more often, except -

"You have tattoos?!" Portia's reaching across the table, snatching up my wrist to get a closer look at the slowly growing sleeve. "That's so cool! I've heard that they can really hurt."

"That's a familiar symbol," Asra eyes the lineart on my upper arm where its stretched across the table in front of them. "What do the other ones mean?"

"There's one on your neck, too!" Lucio sounds almost scandalized. "Let me see it!" Before I know it, my freshly exposed neck and arms are being closely examined while a few more sharp eyes focus in on the hints of ink peeking out on my shoulders and chest. This is why I wear hoodies.

Muriel's quick to notice my discomfort when the attention shifts to my neckline and bound chest. "My turn," he grumbles, dropping a navy blue scarf around my collar.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it. Now give me the second hoodie."

It's hard not to scowl, but I untie the backup hoodie's sleeves from my waist and hand it over. Dang it. "Here."

"You look chilly, my mentally decaying friend!" Good lord, when is Julian going to stop ribbing me over my pen name?

"It's brainrot." He doesn't falter.

"Allow me to rectify your situation! I guarantee you this trusty cloak will protect you from the fiercest of storms." He pulls the massive, dramatic coat from his shoulders in a rehearsed sweep and twirls it to fall behind me. He keeps the armholes open with an excited grin until I push my hands through them.

"This is ..."

"Warm? Comfortable? Touching?"

"Huge." I can barely hold back my laugh. "There's no way even your arms come out the other end of these sleeves! ... but thanks, I'm definitely not cold any more."

"I'll help you roll them up," Portia chirps. Her nimble fingers make quick work of the endless fabric, and I can see my ink stained hands again in no time. "Now give me your socks."

Oh no. My boots are sitting next to the pile of cushions, my socked feet tucked under me for maximum comfort. It's not the stink I'm worried about - for all my poor fashion sense, I never miss my daily shower, or laundry day - but to say that I walk gently would be a blatant lie. I briefly size up the determined look on her face before sighing and shucking them off under the table. "... remember, you asked for this."

Hey jaw drops. "Please tell me you have at least one pair of socks that don't have holes in them."

I shrug. "As long as I can still wear them ..."

"No!" She slams her hand on the table, rattling the now-empty bread bowl sitting in front of a shameless snack thief. "These aren't socks anymore, they're practically cobwebs! I'm knitting at least five more of these."

She shoves a pair of knit orange socks into my hands, lovingly covered with Pepi's cat hair and decorated with little blue bows. "Put these on, I'm burning the rags you gave me."

We both know my pout is just for show. It's not my usual style to wear anything that isn't black (or very, very dark grey), but the bright orange gift is supremely comfortable when I put it on.

"My turn," Asra begins with an innocent smile.

"Where's my bread?"

The dimples deepen. "Give me your head covering, and I'll tell you."

"My beanie?"

"Is that what it's called?" He holds out his hand, taking a closer look at the shabby knit fabric when I pass it to him. "I don't see why, there aren't any beanlike qualities about it. Ooh, unless they're invisible beans ..."

Nadia's sharp cough sets them back on track. "Wear this instead, until we can find a better replacement." Oh god, tell me it's not -

It is. It's his iconic wide brimmed hat, complete with the oversized neon rainbow feather nodding from the band. I don't have time to protest before they're plopping it onto my head and wobbling it into place with a laugh. "Now you're unnoticeable." I highly doubt that. "As to your bread, Selasi's been asked to bring you some of the next hot batch. Can you forgive me?"

Nothing about a smile as smug as his says "guilty", but to be fair, I was never upset. I nod. "So ... can I go back to writing now?"

"What about me?!" I glance from Lucio's outraged pout to the rest of the group. I'm fairly certain that, even if he was invited to the planning for this, he didn't follow through on deciding which offending article of clothing he wanted to replace. "You didn't tell me I had to bring something!"

Portia rolls her eyes. "Well maybe if you had listened when I was talking to you, then you would've known." I don't miss the quiet smile lurking in the corners of Muriel's face as Lucio turns bright red and sputters.

"Well joke's on you, 'cause I'm going to give him something anyways!" He starts taking a hasty inventory of his outfit. "Yeah, that's right! I'm gonna give him ... I'm gonna give himmmmm ... this!"

He unfastens his smallest medal and leans over the table, poking the pin of it through the thick leather of Julian's jacket, disregarding the whimper of protest from the doctor behind him. "It's supposed to be airtight, to keep out the bad humors ..."

"There!" The ex-count grins down at me proudly. "Now your outfit isn't boring. You can give that back to me when you have a better look."

"Thanks," I tell him, and I mean it after noticing the way he glances forlornly at the new empty spot on his sash. "I'll make sure it gets back to you."

"We should go now." Muriel's already half-turned away. "... I'm still not sure this worked."

Asra steps back to his friend, surveying my new look from a distance. "Maybe this will motivate him to let us fix his look sooner."

"It looks better with my medal on it," Lucio announces proudly. Portia lays a firm hand on his shoulder and starts heading away, dragging him with her.

"You'll look better once you make time for us, promise!"

"You should be somewhat protected from the elements, at least." Julian eyes his cuffed coat critically. "If you fasten it correctly, it's airtight, humors proof, water tight, blood proof, pus proof -"

"We'll leave you in peace." Nadia smiles again, amusement dancing in her eyes every time she looks at me. "I suggest you prioritize finishing this project soon."

The six disappear back into the crowd. I lean back against the stone wall behind me, Asra's hat knocking forward over my eyes and giving me a moment of peace. Sure, I may have looked shabby before in my all black-and-grey, well worn clothes, but now -

I'm startled out of my blissful shuteye by a surprised choke. Selasi's standing by my table, a fresh bowl of spiced rolls in one hand and the other clapped over his mouth. "Would you - would you like a mirror, my friend?"

I hold out my hand for the rolls, mentally taking it as a consolation prize for what I've just been lovingly wrangled into.

"Oh, don't think I'm not aware that you let this happen, Selasi."