#from like the moment she got sick to the last episode
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Random Arcane finale thoughts in bullet points in no particular order (spoilers)
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so like they just couldnt resist killing not one of my favourite characters, not two, not even three, but all FIVE of my favourite characters???
Well actually no Ekko survived the slaughter
but still 5/6 is crazy and i am deeply wounded
but wait can't like our ascended "bros" just come back in the definite S3 because they just got absorbed into the stone?? What is all this setup for S3 i fear i will not survive another season
okay okay backtrack
Jinx is rocking the new hairsty- oh. Ouch. Ouch x3.
when ekko said he was trying to find a way to not let an old friend blow them both up and instead of get him caught in the blast she tried to jump - :(((
okay ngl viktor is really ROCKING the new look
oh jeez
MADDIE WHAT THE HELL
stfu with that scottish accent ur not cute anymore
oh rip bandana guy
okay but the music when ambessa was walking up the stairs was SICK
oh viktor and jayce casually paralleling the moment they first unlocked the hexstone and were floating :') this is fine
the twink murder bots are scaring me mom come pick me up
viktor this is getting outta hand you gotta stop
oh this is exactly the setup of the other wor-
HAHAHAHAHAH I KNEW IT I CALLED IT VIKTOR *WAS* THAT RANDOM MAGE WHO GAVE JAYCE THE STONE
wait but how does that actually work like
there are two different viktors here
is one just from a different timeline that has found the power to go across time and universes to conduct his little experiment
what's his own world like
why is he not completely hex-ified like our viktor
am i just overthinking this
did they explain it but i missed it while freaking out
is this sagely viktor just a manifestation
okay moving on
"but you were never broken, viktor" :( brb gonna go cry
oh vander got quite the glowup
also during the final fight where everyone was facing off against their opponent my dad was like "what on earth is going on" because he's only caught bits and pieces of Arcane
and i was like wow this is all very difficult to concisely explain to someone who's only catching the last episode of season two
okay closing thoughts
mel's powers are very cool
rip cait's eye
viktor's genuine confusion over why jayce is trying to stop/save him :(
the ascension mY GOD
rip jayce and viktor (fave arcane character death(?) count: 4/5)
jinx NO
...
fave character death count: 5/5
ekko sitting alone :(
overall i felt this season was a bit janky but i enjoyed it
sometimes the animation in some scenes jarred me out of the moment because it felt not fully polished though
but still rewatching s1 combined with this second season has activated my fic writing brain neurons and i'm obsessed
#arcane season 2 spoilers#arcane season 2#arcane s2#like i said in one of my other posts about this i'll probably write more coherent essays eventually#my thoughts
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i dont think ive ever cried harder in my life than when i watched marys death in anne with an e and im not even exaggerating
#post posting#i SOBBED#from like the moment she got sick to the last episode#SOBBED through literally every scene until the last credits rolled#the first time i watched it that is#i wasnt so heavily affected the next few times#i dotn even know what was going on with me??#i dont think there was anything in my life at the time that was weighing on me to make me cry like that??#i was truly devastated#i cant make this up
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#TheTudorsWeek2023, by @thetudorsgifs | Day 1: Best Episode(s)
Episode 2x02: Tears of Blood: Henry continues undermining the Catholic Church's influence in England, while his chaplain makes a fact-finding tour of Lutheran Germany; Anne resolves to consummate her relationship with the king as Brandon plants doubts about her virtue.
Episode 2x03: Checkmate: His patience at an end, Henry marries Anne in secret, appoints his Lutheran chaplain Thomas Cranmer the head of the Church, and strips Queen Katherine of her title and status; the king and new queen's first child is born, a girl christened Elizabeth.
Episode 2x10: Destiny and Fortune: In the Season 2 finale, Anne awaits execution in the Tower of London as Henry's marriage to her is annulled, baby Elizabeth is removed from the line of succession, and Henry proposes to Jane Seymour, who accepts.
Episode 3x05: Problems in the Reformation: Henry remains in seclusion while mourning the queen's death, an opportunity that enemies of the crown seize to murder several friends of the court; Cromwell is disturbed when Henry doesn't resist his new church's similarities to Catholicism.
Episode 3x09: The Undoing of Cromwell: In the Season Three finale, Henry moves swiftly to annul his loveless marriage to Anne of Cleves, and beds a new teenage mistress; Princess Mary falls in love with Duke Philip of Bavaria; Cromwell's fall from favor is sudden and dramatic.
Episode 4x01: Moment of Nostalgia: Henry introduces his new wife to court, Katherine Howard, his fifth Queen. She attempts to befriend Henry's children; this succeeds with his young son, Prince Edward, but she receives only contempt from Lady Mary while Lady Elizabeth is receptive but prefers to spend time with Henry's former wife Anne of Cleves.
#thetudorsweek2023#these episode summaries are...smth#they seem to pretty much match the amazon summaries except weirdly the second one#'christened elizabeth' to 'both newylweds disappointed by her gender'#unpopular not to include the finale ik but like...#idk. i kind of thought they phoned the finale in a bit#i liked all the ghosts of past and future and the last scene with kparr and his children#really loved the parallel of his road to the afterlife being the same as the reunion between him and AB after she survived#the sweating sickness...and the parallel in their deaths too (a sword from behind that they could not see because they were distracted by#something else higher above them#and then the white horse works either as christian symbol or knight-errant or both#but the rest...kind of mid#they just expected me to care about charles brandon. far more than i do#charles brandon is to me what AB seems to be to others#im resentful he had so much screentime at the expense of introducing other characters#like we barely even got the exeter conspiracy. we did but like that was the exact moment they introduced the poles#we saw margaret pole for like five seconds s1 but otherwise. yeah#the google summaries are also. something. damn#shorter but maybe i should have picked them#also like the way the last episode summary does not allude to what was the title at all lol#(it's from a line from dialogue from henry to elizabeth#when he gives her a copy of tacitus' annals)
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The Yapping Hour Is Upon Us - The Hardest Two Years
In which your relationship with Max is put to the test and you pass with flying colors.
Warnings: this one is heavy at the beginning. Mentions of miscarriages (no active miscarriage on the page, but discussions of them). pregnancy. babies. labor. preemie/NICU baby briefly mentioned. anxiety. Pairing: Max Verstappen x Podcaster!Reader Word Count: 5k words
- The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 2 - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 3 - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 4 - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Bonus Sessions - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - The Royal Wedding - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - The Wedding Night
(a note: whewwwwww this one has been such a labor of love. i hope you all have enjoyed reading this as much as i loved creating it!!!)
October 2026 Austin, Texas
TheYappingHour posted
293,202 likes liked by maxverstappen1, assistantshannon, christianhorner, and others. theyappinghour We're back babies!! It's been a wild year for us here at The Yapping Hour but we're so pleased to bring you a brand new interview featuring Red Bull Strategist Hannah Schmitz. I first met Hannah when Max and I were first dating and she spent countless hours answering my (often silly) questions with the utmost patience. I love talking to women in motorsport, especially women like Hannah that are sitting on pit wall with the rest of the boys. We talk glass ceilings, what it's like to be work in a male dominated field, and what it took to get where she is today on the episode. It is def not one to miss!! hannahschmitzengineer thanks for having me on, lady!! Love having you around the track more now. xo user9928 hannah gives me such good vibes. i love her sm. user011 so we're just going to ignore how @/yourpersonalinsta just ghosts for how many months after eloping, claiming she's suddenly 'too sick to work' while galavanting all over the globe with Max??? >>>user0028 I knew she was a gold digger this entire time but NOOOOO. No one wanted to listen to me! user1145 its totally fine if you just want to live that WAG life girl but be honest with us. And yourself. Marrying rich was always her goal, wasn't it? >>>user0090 ding ding ding!!
"Thank you again for coming on the show, Hannah! We get so many questions about women in motorsport so I know this episode is going to be so well received." You reach out your arms towards the strategy engineer, enveloping her in a hug.
Hannah hugs you right back, giving you an extra squeeze. The two of you have always got on really well and you were happy that she had agreed to come on for an episode. It had been a rough year so far, so having an exciting episode to edit and put out was something that you were looking forward to.
"Thanks for having me! We all miss your episodes in the garage. Everyone was excited to hear that you'd be back for at least one episode." She gives you a sad smile. Hannah is one of the few people that know the real reason behind your absence on socials this year.
"It feels good to be back. Hopefully I'll be able to do some more things in the last bit of the year. I have a few things in the works." You give her the most positive smile you can muster but it's hard with the waves of nausea that started to roll through you in the last few moments.
You barely hold it together as you walk Hannah out of the studio that you'd rented in downtown Austin ahead of the US Grand Prix this weekend. Max was back at the track finishing up some media duties but once you finish up with Shannon at the studio, you're going to head back to see him.
Inside the studio, Shannon is working on packing up once you return from walking Hannah out. "Can you do me a favor?" You ask, voice hesitant.
Shannon's head snaps up at the anxiety she can hear in your words. You two have been working together so closely for so long, you can both communicate with minimal looks and words now. She can read your mood almost as well as Max can. "Everything okay boss?"
"Could you swing by the pharmacy before going back to the hotel and pick me up some..." You pause, needing a moment to work your tongue around the next words. "pregnancy tests." Your heart hammers in your chest.
Shannon blinks at you, hesitant smile on her lips. "Of course." She says softly before reaching out to cup your elbow with a gentle hand. "You feeling okay?"
Chuckling, you shake your head, "My lunch nearly made a reappearance when Hannah hugged me just now, which is weird because we wear the same perfume sometimes and that's what set me off."
The moment that wave of nausea hit you, you had started counting back the weeks in your mind since your last period. You had instantly known because it was the kind of math you'd been doing for almost a year now, since getting your IUD out.
What a year it had been.
"I'd do it myself but there's a lot of media out this weekend and I've already been papped. There's already so much negative coverage out there, I don't want to give more fuel to the fire."
Back in June you had made the difficult decision to put production on The Yapping Hour on hold for the near future, citing health issues. Most of your fans had been supportive but there had been a lot of backlash about how you were a gold digger and were only with Max for his money. People saw you traveling a lot with Max and assumed the 'health issues' were a cop out and that you were just lazy. Everyone in your inner circle knew it was absolutely untrue but the lies perpetuated by accounts like Deux Moi the F1 gossip accounts still stung.
This year had shaped up to be the most challenging year for both you and Max, personally and professionally. With only a handful of races to go, Max was sitting solidly in second place in the drivers championship, behind a white hot Lando Norris who'd won 8 races already this year. While Max was still able to keep the fight going, the car had continued to deteriorate this year and even Mad Max could barely keep it on the road some weekends. It had been the hardest season of his entire career.
Despite all the difficulties, both personal and professional, you and Max were stronger than ever. There hadn't been any other choice after you what you had gone through together. The 'health issues' that you had cited earlier in the year had actually been the three miscarriages you had suffered back to back to back since getting married in December. Through it all, the doctors appointments, the late nights spent sobbing in pain, the terror tinged excitement at each 'positive' test, Max had been there for you. He was an unwavering and unmoving well of support for you in the darkest of hours.
Shannon's eyes go watery as she tugs at your hand. "Oh, mama..."
You chuckle darkly, "Not a mom yet, Shan."
Shannon shakes her head, "Yes you are. Those three precious babies were yours and will always be yours."
Tears sting at the back of your eyes as you walk out of the studio still holding your assistant's hand. You knew she was right. You still felt that constant ache and connection to the babies you had lost, even the first one that you had lost at just four weeks when it was barely more than a bunch of cells. The anxiety that courses through you as you get in the back seat of the car that Max had sent for you is so overwhelming you nearly ask Shannon to stay with you.
"I'll go get that stuff from the pharmacy then I'll drop them off at your room, okay? It'll be okay, boss." Shannon says warmly before shutting the door of the black SUV.
All you can do is nod in response, hoping she's right.
Hours later, you stand with your hands braced on the vanity in your hotel room. Max is caught at the track still, needing to meet with the engineering team for a bit longer than expected so you're left alone in the room just staring down at the box Shannon delivered to your door.
There's a flood of mixed emotions swirling all together in your stomach as you look at the small white stick starting back at you tauntingly. You had wanted to wait for Max but at this point, you didn't know when he'd be back and you hadn’t been able to wait any longer. You'd been through this so many times this year and had seen that little plus sign three times already, all ending with heartbreak and pain. You weren't sure if you'd be able to survive another one. But at the same time, you had to know.
Max opens the door to your shared hotel room quietly, wanting to surprise you by coming back early and taking you to dinner. You're not where he expected to see you though, snuggled up on the bed watching Netflix.
The bathroom door is thrown open and he hears muffled sniffling floating out, sending his anxiety through the roof. After the year you've had, anything that's got you upset sends him off the deep end. He finds you leaning over the counter staring at something. Max stops in the doorway for a moment, watching your body language. Your hair is tied up in a messy bun and you're wearing nothing but one of his old sweatshirts that's seen better days. The tattered sleeves fall over your wrists, only allowing your fingers to peek out. He can barely see your wedding ring peaking out from the navy sweatshirt and for a moment, his mood shifts. Here you were, nearly a year later and he still gets love struck seeing you wearing his ring. His wife. It still stopped him in his tracks when he realized how lucky he was to have you and how lucky you both had been to survive this year so far.
“Liefje?” He murmurs, leaning against the door frame. He doesn't want to scare you, so he keeps his distance at first. "Everything okay?"
You startle a bit, hand flying to your throat when you gasp in surprise. "Max!" You breathe, eyes swimming with tears that haven't had a chance to fall yet. "I...I don't know."
Max crosses the tiled floor, the cold biting into his feet through his socks. "Hey, what's got you so upset baby? Shhh..." He takes you into his arms, cradling you against his chest. You relish the warmth, your body having gone stone cold after seeing the results of the test you hadn't been able to wait for Max to take.
"I nearly threw up after hugging Hannah today even though she was wearing one of my favorite perfumes." You tell him, nearly chuckling when he looks at you utterly confused. Extracting yourself from his grasp, you reach behind for the test and hold it up so he can see it.
"I'm pregnant, Max."
The strangled sob that you choke out nearly takes Max to the ground. He folds you into his arms again, rocking you back and forth as you shake like a leaf. The miscarriages had been so hard on you, each one more difficult than the last. The memory of you, curled up on the bed when you had started bleeding during the third one, while you wailed about your body betraying you and how you were broken, hits him like a truck. He'd give anything to make this pain stop for you, to take away the fear and anguish that he can feel rolling off of you in waves.
"Shhhh, schatje." He soothes, knowing that nothing he could possibly say will quell the terror you're feeling right now.
"I can't lose another baby, Max. I can't. It’ll destroy me.” The only thing you wanted to do was protect this little life that was inside you right now, bits of you and bits of Max combined to make an entirely new human. You’d been here three times before and you’d failed. Your body had failed to keep the baby inside you safe and you didn’t know if it was going to happen again. The doctors had been baffled after every loss, telling you that there wasn’t any rhyme or reason to it, that sometimes losses happened and there wasn’t anything that could have been done about it. There hadn’t been any genetic abnormalities in any of the samples they’d taken, hadn’t been anything that you had done to make you lose the pregnancies. No, it had been completely and utterly random that your body just hadn’t been able to make a pregnancy stick.
You’d never felt more like a failure.
“My love, it will be okay. We’ll get through this, I promise.” Max wanted to tell you that you wouldn’t lose this baby either. He wanted more than anything to tell you that but the words wouldn’t come. He couldn’t tell you that because he didn’t know if it was true and telling you something that might turn out to not be true killed him. “We will always get through these things together, no matter what happens.”
You pull back out of Max’s chest, needing to lose yourself in those icy blue eyes you were so obsessed with. You knew, deep down, that he was right. Max had been your constant source of support since the day you met him. You had no reason to doubt him and knew that he would get you through this even if you lost this baby too but that didn’t stop the fear from wrapping it’s sharp, cold fingers around your throat. “I’m so scared.” You whisper.
Max runs a hand over the top of your head before framing your face. Brushing the pad of his thumb over your cheek, he smiles down at you. “I know.” He admits, knowing that you need to know that he’s in this with you right now and that you’re on the same page. “I am too, but like I said, we’ll get through this. We’ve got to make a plan, sitting here crying is just going to make your anxiety worse, okay?”
You nod, grinning when he laces his fingers with yours to pull you out into the main part of the hotel room. He leads you over to the bed where he sits before patting his lap, inviting you to sit between his legs. With your back pressed to his chest, you snuggle into him as deeply as you can, enjoying the way his arms snake around you to clasp together over your tummy. “I’ll call Greg in the morning and have the jet take you back to Monaco and you can have Shannon make you an appointment with Dr. Mallkin. I’m sure he’ll get you in as soon as possible.”
You freeze. “No, Max.” You protest, heart thrumming in your throat from the panic. “No, I don’t want to leave you. Not now. What if I lose it again and I’m half way around the world from you? Please, I don’t want to leave you.” You know you sound pathetic, begging like a scared little girl but you can’t help it. The thought of being alone in your apartment in Monaco while Max finished this triple header to Mexico and then Brazil sent frigid shivers of fear zinging through your veins.
Max tucks his head into the crook of your neck, mouthing at the warm skin there. “Shhh…Okay, Schatje. You don’t have to go back to Monaco but you absolutely can’t come to Mexico and Brazil with me. The travel and stress won’t be good for you, you know that.”
You both sit in silence for a few moments, each contemplating what can be done. There was no way you were going to go back to Monaco right now but you also knew that traveling down to Mexico and then Brazil wouldn’t be good for you or the baby and you desperately needed this baby to stick.
“What if we flew you to your parents up in California?” Max suggests, breaking the silence first. “You could go spend a few weeks with them, get in to see a doctor up there to just check and make sure everything looks okay and then when I’m done in Brazil, I’ll fly to get you and we can go back to Monaco together? We have a three week break after Brazil so you won’t be alone for a bit.”
The thought of going back to your childhood home for a few weeks was immensely appealing. “And then maybe I could do Qatar and Abu Dhabi with you to finish out the year if everything is good and Dr. Mallkin gives me the okay?”
Max is quiet, not wanting to agree to any more travel than absolutely necessary but when your head swivels around to look at him, pleading look on your face, he caves. “If Dr. Mallkin gives you the okay, we can do that.”
Monaco May, 2027
yourpersonalinsta posted
yourpersonalinsta we've been hiding a little secret. baby verstappen due in july and we couldn't be more excited. (tagged: maxverstappen1) kikagomes ahhhhh i can finally talk about this in real life!! so excited for you bestieeeee >>>yourpersonalinsta love you!! user0029 ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!! baby verstappen incoming! user0445 july?! oh my god, they hid this for so long! user442 omg that's why she hasn't been at races this year! bet all those assholes predicting a divorce feel like assholes now redbullracing already have the mini f1 car in the garage for baby verstappen!!
33 weeks. You had made it pas the danger zone. That little tiny bean in your belly had dug itself in so deep that you hadn’t lost this baby, much to your delight and surprise. Those early weeks you had spent with your parents in California had been some of the scariest days of your life. Every time you went to the bathroom you had expected to see blood everywhere. But it had never come. When Max had finished with Mexico and Brazil, he had flown to get you before taking you back home. The rest of the season panned out exactly like you had expected: Lando had won his first world championship with Max finishing a close second.
A few weeks into winter break, Max had approached you one afternoon while you lounged on the couch in your Monaco apartment. There would be no long distance travel for you this winter break due to the precarious state of your pregnancy. You had been cleared to go to Qatar and Abu Dhabi to see the rest of the season pan out, but after that, Dr. Mallkin had effectively grounded you. ‘I want to retire’ was the bomb Max had dropped on you that afternoon. You had been silent for several minutes, letting the implications of his statement sink in before you had been able to respond. If there was one thing that drove you insane about Max was how he was always threatening to retire despite being absolutely awful at sitting still and relaxing so you had never taken his whinging seriously. Until that afternoon.
In the end, after several hours of discussion and back and forth, you had convinced Max to give it one more season. He couldn’t let his career end on such a low note, losing out on his sixth championship. He had wanted to retire to spend more time with you and the baby but you knew he’d be restless and that he wasn’t ready to retire just yet. In the end, you had come up with a compromise: he’d race for the 2027 season and you and the baby would travel with him for the second half of the season so he wouldn’t miss any of the big milestones. You were due sometime in July, which was perfect timing. If everything worked out, you’d have the baby right around the summer break and by the time racing started back up in Belgium, you’d be ready to take the baby on the road.
But in the end, it didn’t end up working out like that.
The Monaco Grand Prix was one of your favorite weekends, even if Max hated it. He didn’t like how busy the city became. Hated how loud and noisy the streets were. Secretly hated the track due to how difficult it was to actually race and overtake, despite dominating the track in recent years.
Earlier in the week, you had finally shared the news of your pregnancy on social media, having waited until you were nearly full term before breathing even a word of it to anyone outside of your inner circle. You had stopped traveling to races weeks ago and your presence had been wildly noted all over the gossip accounts, some even going so far as to start rumors that you and Max were already divorced. So imagine everyone’s surprise when you posted the photos of your belly gently covered by Max’s hands. People went wild.
Sunday morning, you’re in Red Bull hospitality sitting with Liam’s girlfriend Hannah and Kika while Max is in the garage getting prepped for the race in a few hours. During last year’s silly season, there had been some major reshuffling of the teams and Pierre had been welcomed back into the Red Bull stables as Max’s teammate. Liam was still driving for VCARB alongside Franco Colopinto who had taken the second seat after Yuki had left to join Aston Martin this season.
Your left hand sits lightly on your ever expanding belly as you listen to Kika gush about Pierre proposing last week during the little break the grid had had when something that feels like an electric shock snaps across your stomach. “Oh.” You gasp, sitting up a bit straighter in your chair.
Hannah immediately clocks the pain that streaks across your face and reaches for your hand. “Are you okay?”
The pain takes your breath away momentarily but as quick as it comes on, it’s gone. A few deep breaths and everything rights itself. “Yeah, just some ligament pain or something. My doctor said now that I’m further on I could start getting Braxton Hicks but that it wasn’t a huge deal as long as they’re not steady or coming in regular intervals.”
“If it happens again, I’m telling Max.” Kika says, face full of worry. Since Pierre’s resigning with Red Bull, the two of you had gotten closer and she was one of your best friends now. You knew she’d 100% tattle on you to Max, who had turned into an even more intense mother hen the closer you got to the end of your pregnancy.
“Oh, that’ll go over well.” You roll your eyes. “He’ll flat out refuse to race even if they’re just false labor pains. Mouth shut, Kiks.” You order, raising a brow in challenge.
Kika just rolls her eyes back at you, folding her arms over her chest. “Fine.”
Everything goes back to normal for the next few hours. You sit in the Red Bull hospitality with Shannon, Kika, and Hannah by your side to watch the race, not having near enough energy to stand in the garages for the race. Max had started P2 but had managed to pass Lando somewhere on lap 15 and had been in the lead ever since.
And then, suddenly, all hell breaks loose.
“Fuck.” You hiss, clutching at your stomach as Max starts the last 15 laps of the race.
Kika’s head whips towards you, panic in her eyes. “What?”
“Fuck fuck fuck fuck.” You mutter, standing up to look at the puddle you’ve left in the black plastic chair. “I think my water just broke.”
“What?!” Kika shrieks, causing the entirety of the hospitality suite to turn their heads in unison to look at you. “What?” She whispers a second time, just as urgent but quieter this time.
“I think I’m in labor.” You work to keep the fear out of your voice but you fail. You’re not full term yet, you can’t be going into labor. This baby needed to stay cooking for a few more weeks. Panic strangles you as Hannah reaches for your hand. A sharp, shooting pain has you crying out, once again drawing attention to your little table. “Oh fuck, I think I’m in labor. I’m only 33 weeks Hannah, I can’t be in labor.”
The pain of your three miscarriages comes charging back, terror flooding your system at the thought of losing a forth baby, this one so far into your pregnancy. The kicks, the hiccups, everything has made this pregnancy so much more real. You didn’t think you’d survive another loss.
Hannah, who just finished her first year of medical school, squeezes your hand. “Good news is, 33 weeks is viable out of the womb but we should still get to the hospital. Little dude is going to be a bit on the small side.”
“Oh for fucks sakes.” You groan, knowing Max is going to lose his shit. He’d been worried about this exact scenario more than you cared to think about. His orders had always been to have GP or Christian tell him over the radio if you ever went into labor during a race and he’d stop right then and there.
“There’s only 15 laps to go.” You glance up at the TV screen above you. “Okay, 14 now. I’m not leaving until he’s out of that car and we’re not saying a word to him until he’s taken the checkered flag.” You stare pointedly at Kika, who had leapt out of her chair when you had declared you were in labor, presumably to go straight to the garage and tattle on you.
“You most certainly are not waiting until he’s finished to leave, are you insane?” Hannah whispers, trying to avoid drawing even more attention to you. “I’m going to find a car to take us to the hospital, which should be interesting considering half the city is shut down. We might need an ambulance.”
“I am not leaving the paddock in an ambulance!” You gasp as another contraction hits you, stealing your breath from your lungs.
“You’re not going to have a choice.” Hannah turns to Shannon. “Can you go to the garage and tell GP that she’s in labor and that the moment he’s out of that car, he needs to get his ass to the hospital. Kika, stay here with her and try to keep her calm.”
While the drama is unfolding in the hospitality building, Max is working on winning his fourth race of the season, the car feeling better than it has all season. When Hannah finally finds a medical official, telling him that there’s a woman in pre-term labor that needs to get to the hospital immediately, Max crosses the finish line in P1.
GP immediately comes on the radio. “Max, we need you in right now, no cool down lap.”
“What? What’s wrong?” Confusion plays at the edge of his voice as he starts towards the pits on the other side of the track.
In the garage, GP glances at Shannon, who shakes her head. “Just get to the garage now, okay?”
In his gut, he knows it’s about you. He knows instantly just by the sound of GP’s voice. Something’s wrong, he can feel it in every nerve ending of his body. “Is she okay?”
“She’s okay for now.”
Relief floods Max’s system as he desperately tries to get back to the garages without hitting anything or anyone, which is proving to be very difficult. All he can think about is you and getting to you as fast as possible. Was it the baby? He had known it was a bad idea for you to be out in the paddock today. Had thought there was too much excitement and activity for you to be out and he was kicking himself for allowing you to be here even though deep down, he knew that you would have been here no matter what. He just hoped he didn’t regret agreeing to it.
Shannon goes to Max first and explains everything. How your water had broken with 15 laps to go. How Hannah had found an ambulance to take you across town to the hospital. How you were probably already there, Kika and Hannah both riding along with you in the ambulance so you weren’t alone. How you were scared but putting on a brave face for everyone, which Max thought was very typical of you.
Christian sidles up to Max next. “There’s a car waiting for you with a police escort to Princess Grace Hospital. That’s where they took her. Go, we’ll take care of any FIA fines or hubbub.”
Max doesn’t need to be told twice before taking off, still sweaty in his race suit. As he’s racing out of the garage, Shannon calls after him. He pauses, despite not wanting to but grins when she holds out a bag for him. “Thought you might want a change of clothes for when you get to the hospital.”
Max snags the bag out of her hands before giving her a warm smile. “Thanks, Shan.”
“Now go! Your wife is having a baby!”
There’s a reverent hush that blankets the NICU in the middle of the night. The floor is near empty, only one other baby in the little clear covered crib besides your baby. It’s been hours since you gave birth but you’re finally up and out of bed, sitting in the wheelchair Max brought for you in your room moments ago.
“The doctor says he’s a fighter.” Max murmurs, hand clasped on your shoulder.
Tears burn before spilling down your cheeks as you take in the baby in front of you. He’s only 33 weeks and a tiny little wisp of a baby, but the pediatrician that was on call when you came in is confident that he’ll be okay with some extra attention that being in the NICU will bring. “He’s so small.” You whisper, reaching up to grasp at Max’s hand.
Max had gotten to the hospital just in time. Kika and Hannah had been at the head of your bed when he had burst into the hospital room just as you had been feeling the need to start pushing. He had been white as a ghost, paler than you’d ever seen him but the moment you laid eyes on him, you had burst into tears. “Max.” You sobbed as Kika and Hannah discreetly showed themselves out of the birthing suite. They had stayed in the waiting room for the next several hours though, neither wanting to leave before knowing how you and the baby were doing.
Like he had been doing since the moment he walked into your life, Max had never left your side and had been the single source of strength you had drawn on during the entire labor process. Everything moved so quickly you hadn’t had a chance to even ask for an epidural so you had labored completely naturally. In the end, it hadn’t really mattered because your labor had progressed so quickly Dr. Mallkin had barely had time to get his scrubs on before the baby was crowning.
“What are we going to call him?” Max asks, staring down at the tiny baby boy. He still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that he had come so early and that he was now a dad. It terrified him just as much as it thrilled him. He was so proud of you as well, the entire labor process something that he had to just sit back and watch in awe. If Max hadn’t thought that you were the stronger one in the relationship before, he most certainly thought it now.
“I like the name Theodore.” You say, reaching out to brush your fingers on the clear plastic that held your tiny cherub of a baby. “Theo for short.”
Max’s heart gave a squeeze. “It’s perfect. What about Theo Nicholas.”
Your head whips around to stare at your husband. “Nicholas? Like, my dad Nicholas?”
“I think it suits the little guy well, don’t you? And I like the idea of him carrying on your dad’s name. One of the greatest men I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing.”
Now you were really sobbing. The fact that it had been Max to suggest giving his son your dad’s name for a middle name created this soft, gooey center in your stomach. “I love you so much, Max.” You say, choking back another sob.
Max leans down, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he watches the son you’ve given him sleep peacefully. “I love you too, schatje. I love you both.”
maxverstappen1 posted
1,208,391 likes liked by yourdad, yourpersonalinsta, kikagomes, and others maxverstappen1 baby boy couldn't wait until july to make his grand entrance. tiny verstappen is here and life couldn't be better. forever in awe of you @/yourpersonalinsta. being a momma looks good on you, schatje. love you forever. yourpersonalinsta love you more, maxie. you're already the worlds best dad to theo. >>>user9383 THEO??? that is the cutest name >>>user2993 they're literally life goals oh my GODDDDD charlesleclerc congratulations friend!! gorgeous family you've got there. redbullracing love seeing max in his dad era!
yourpersonalinsta posted
1,598,019 likes liked by maxverstappen1, hannahstjohn, assistantshannon, and others yourpersonalinsta welcome to the world theodore nicholas verstappen. you are already so loved, baby boy. (tagged: maxverstappen1) maxverstappen1 my 2 favorite people on this planet. you're already such an amazing mother, baby. love you to the ends of time. >>>user458 i'm sobbing hannahstjohn he is the cutest little turkey ever. i am so in love with him! congrats mama!!! >>>yourpersonalinsta thank you for forcing me into that ambulance otherwise we could have had a paddock baby on our hands >>>user0938 this is such f1 lore, i love it
Tags: @shelbyteller @formulaal @martygraciesversion381 @longhairkoo @samantha-chicago
#f1#formula 1#max verstappen#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen fic#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen x you
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I've got a sinking feeling - {Five Hargreeves x GN!Reader}
Synopsis: You are very flirty with Five, and he's tricked himself into believing he hates it. He tells you to stop. Then he learns the hard way how much he took you for granted when you meet someone else.
Note: Five requests would be very appreciated! Thank you to those who sent requests on my last one shot.
(Not Edited)
Warnings: Swearing
Word count: 1.5k
Extra Information: Viisi means Five in Finnish. Five and Y/n were partners in the commission. They look seventeen or eighteen instead of thirteen. This one-shot takes place on the last episode of season one, and the entirety of season two.
----
The Academy, Five's home, has just collapsed--courtesy of Vanya's new powers--and Five ordered his family to meet at Super Star Lanes bowling alley to come up with a new plan of action.
He grabs your wrist, blinking you with him. You're both in front of the bowling alley in a flash of blue.
Five takes a moment to pace around, not entering the building. The crisp, spring air bites at your earlobes as you hug your sides for warmth
"Hey, Viisi, can we go inside?" You look at him with a grimace and a pleading smile. He whips his head in your direction to glare at you, then strolls inside with a roll of his eyes. You follow in his stead.
The interior is heated, thankfully. Five informs the underpaid worker that his "parents" will be arriving shortly to pay for his bowling shoes. He takes a seat adjacent to Lane 6 and you sit next to him.
"So, how was the farewell with Delores? I know you two were close." You lean back in your seat, getting more comfortable while waiting for Five's siblings to arrive.
He does not look at you. His jaw ticks in annoyance, mistaking your genuine curiosity for mockery.
"Come onnn, I know you're stressed, but this is your sister. I'm sure she's reasonable enough not to end the world." You turn towards him, leaning your elbows on your thighs and admiring his pretty face.
"No, it's not that." He scoffs, looking at you with a sneer.
You notice that his tie is crooked so you reach out to fix it, like you often do. It's sort of your thing.
He smacks your hand away and you raise an eyebrow.
"You okay Viisi?" You rub your hand a little, surprised. Normally, he lets you fix his tie with no problem. Although, he would grumble about it a little.
"God- No. I'm not okay." He puts his hands in his hair, gripping it slightly with an exasperated expression. "And stop calling me that."
"What?" You breathe with a smile of disbelief. "What's going on? Did something happen- Did I do something?" You lean away from him a little to give him more space.
"Stop, just stop it with the touching and the nicknames. I'm sick of it!" He looks at you with cold eyes. This is very unusual of him.
You cock your head to the side, trying to understand. "Five, I thought- I thought that was our thing! Y'know, the friendly banter and-"
"I know you're desperate for some sort of relationship with me, but I'm here to tell you that it's not going to happen. We were only ever co-workers." He says through gritted teeth, avoiding your eyes. "I'm telling you to stop pursuing me." 'Pursuing' him?
Usually you would brush this sort of behavior off, ignore it. Tell yourself that it's only because he's stressed. He's always stressed! Thinking back, he was never all that nice to you. Even in your Commission days.
You'd tricked yourself into thinking that maybe he thought you were special, or that you were at least his friend. His confidant.
You look at him with eyes full of hurt, which Five has never seen from you. He almost feels something bubbling up his throat, but the feeling dissipates quickly. "Have I made myself clear?" He says evenly.
You only nod, turning away so he doesn't see the tears prick at your eyes.
Five's siblings come inside and you two don't speak to each other again.
A year and seven months later (for you, at least.)
1963, Dallas Texas:
Five anxiously pulls at his tie after narrowly escaping three armed Swedish men. He had just watched his siblings, along with you, blow up in yet another nuclear explosion. It's left him oddly shaken up about how he treated you back in 2019.
He's pacing down the alley-way between the Commerse and Knox when he notices a flash atop the roof. A large camera of some sort.
A brown haired man closes his window briskly. That's strange.
Five teleports inside, scaling up a flight of stairs with cat-like agility. When he knocks on a door, the one beside him answers, revealing a mouse-y looking man in his early thirties. He looks at him with big, expectant eyes.
"What do you want." His tone is dripping with suspicion.
"Hi, I'm selling encyclopedias for my youth group. I was curious if-" Five gets a door to the face. He huffs, blinking inside after him.
The man, Elliot, jumps, yelping in fear and pulling out a butter-knife from his drawer of kitchen utensils. "H-how did you do that?" He hesitates, astonished.
Five looks at him with amusement. "Don't really have time to explain."
Elliot runs a hand through his unkempt brown hair, gripping the butter-knife in a feeble attempt to protect himself. "You from the Pentagon? Huh?"
"Definitely not."
"CIA? FBI? KGB?"
Five eyes up the kitchen, noticing a coffee pot on the other side of the room. "Is that fresh?" He uses his powers again, blinking himself right in front of the coffee pot.
Elliot screams, whipping his head back and forth between the place Five just was and the place he appeared. "What..." He pants, eyes wide.
"Elliot? You okay?" Five hears a faraway voice from another room. A familiar voice. "Who's with you?" It asks.
You appear from around the corner, presumably from Elliot's bedroom, looking almost two years older.
Five furrows his eyebrows and so do you. He breathes out your name is what you almost register as relief. But, you know better then to think that.
"Oh, Five. You're back." You say casually, nodding and crossing your arms. Five sets the coffee down, unwillingly noticing how you didn't call him by his nickname.
"How long have you been here?" He walks towards you, looking at your slightly different features. You changed your hair, he observes. He says nothing about it.
"A year and a half, I believe." You tap your chin in thought. Elliot glances between you two with interest or surprise.
"You two know each-other?" He puts the butter-knife back onto the counter with a small clatter.
You nod, shrugging. "We were co-workers." You send Elliot a reassuring, genuine smile.
Co-workers. Five doesn't like how the word rolled off your tongue.
He licks his lips, looking away. "You live here?" He asks you, although it was a silly question considering its obvious answer.
You nod with tight lipped smile, approaching Elliot. You fix his hair with your fingers and flip the collar of his flannel back down. "Did he scare you? I told you he could be a bit much."
Elliot exhales a shaky laugh at your words and actions as Five begins to feel a hot, frothy feeling in the pit of his stomach. He changes the subject. "Are my siblings here too?"
Elliot answers for you, looking back towards the teen again. "The other six anomalys- The power surges." He begins to look excited at this new discovery. "They're your siblings?"
Five ticks his jaw, ignoring him. "So they're alive..." He begins to pace around. "I think I stranded them here. Now listen to me..."
"Elliot." You tell him his name.
"Whatever, alright? I got ten days to find them and save the world." He points to you and Elliot. "Now, I need your help to do that."
Elliot is just so happy to be involved, his three year long project finally achieving some major development. He scrambles to find a certain newspaper scrap from his desk drawer. "You know what? I, uh..." He fumbles with it, handing it to Five.
"I always thought that this, uh, mugshot looked like arrival number four."
"Diego." Five reads softly, then he twists around to face you. "You're coming with me." He states.
You hiss awkwardly through your teeth, avoiding his eyes. "Ohh, about that... Actually, Elliot and I were about to play Scrabble. It's Scrabble night."
Five narrows his eyes at you, barking your name. "The world is ending and you're just gonna play Scrabble with this homebody?"
Elliot looks at his dusty wooden floors with a look of dejection.
"Uh, yeah. That's exactly what I'm gonna do." You lean against the door-frame with a bored expression. "I thought you wanted me to stop following you around like a lost puppy."
Five feels strange. "You know what? I don't need this." He blinks away to search for Diego.
When Five returns from the strip club, after a failed attempt of recruiting both Luther and Diego, he decides to test something. His fingers reach for his tie, pulling at it and skewing it. Perfectly crooked.
You couldn't resist fixing his tie, he knew this.
So why didn't you? He finds himself uncharacteristically frustrated about your unresponsiveness.
As he demands that Elliot develop his Frankel Footage, his eyes trail to you occasionally, silently tempting you to straighten his tie.
Your eyes flicked to it once. However, you made no move to adjust it.
Five heaves a dramatic sigh, angrily fixes it, and leaves to look for Vanya.
He messed up before, he realizes. He feels like shit.
#five hargreeves#number five#five hargreeves x reader#tua five#five hargreaves x reader#tua#five hargreaves x you#the umbrella academy#five x y/n#five x you#five x reader#umbrella academy#umbrella academy x reader
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Sick III
Hardersson x Child!Reader
Part of The Big Adventures Universe
Summary: Magda gets sick
"Momma," You say, hopping down the last step," Morsa's throwing up in the bathroom again."
Pernille looks up from the stove and sighs. "I thought I told you that you weren't meant to go looking for Morsa?"
You shrug. "I didn't go looking for her."
Pernille doesn't believe you in the slightest.
Magda had come down with some sickness, likely the flu, a few days ago. It had started off as just an inconvenience, a stuffy nose and a few headaches. Then came the throwing up and Magda being forced to lean over the toilet bowl for a few hours in the night when she was meant to be sleeping.
Pernille knew it was wishful thinking to hope that the sickness remained with Magda only but you were a bit of a nightmare when it came to getting sick so she wanted to limit the chance of you catching it as much as possible.
If only you understood that because since Magda's sudden illness, you seem to have gotten incredibly clingy towards her like you don't want to stray out of her sight for whatever reason.
Pernille purses her lips as she looks at you, stirring the soup in the pot as she ponders what to do next.
"Why don't you have tv time?" She asks, finally settling on something to keep you occupied.
You don't get a lot of tv time, at least not where you're in control of the tv. You've never really craved it when you could play with girl-swan and girl-moose or kick a football around the garden.
But still, you're a little kid and kids love tv.
"I think Scooby Doo is on."
You think for a moment before your face twists into something akin to annoyance. "I don't like German Scooby Doo," You say," Can I watch Ben 10 instead?"
"Yeah, we can do that."
Pernille sets you up with an episode of Ben 10 in German and you settle on the sofa to watch it. With you now occupied, she sneaks up with a bowl of chicken soup just as Magda makes her way back to bed.
"You look...better."
"Don't lie." It's nice to see that Magda's humour is still there. "Is this for me?"
"Chicken soup." Pernille hands the bowl over. "You should probably wait for it to start cooling down."
"I'll be fine," Magda says," It's not like I can taste it so the heat might be the only enjoyable thing about it."
"How are you feeling? Do you need more medicine?"
"Can't take any yet. Hasn't been four hours but I'll be fine. I spoke to Linda. She said the throwing up only lasts a day. I'll be alright by tomorrow."
"Still," Pernille says," Eat your soup and drink lots of water. We're meant to be setting a good example to Princesse."
The corners of Magda's mouth quirks up a little. "Where is she? You know, I'd feel a lot better if she's here?"
Pernille rolls her eyes, scoffing. "Oh, I see. When I'm sick, I can't see her so she doesn't get infected but when you're sick, you can see her all you want? How is that fair?"
Her tone is teasing and Magda flashes a wolfish grin.
"Swedes don't infect Swedes. It's a rule."
"Well, it's great that she's Danish too, huh? No Princesse time for you until-"
"Hey, Princesse. What have you got there?"
Pernille whips her head around to see you standing by the door, clutching the little first aid kit that's usually hidden in the bathroom cabinet.
"I thought you were watching Ben 10?" She says as you come in, clambering up onto the bed and sitting on Magda's outstretched legs.
"Got bored," You reply, forcing the zip open and rummaging through it," I'm gonna make Morsa better though."
"She's sick, Princesse," Pernille says," Are you sure? You can get sick too."
You give Pernille the biggest judgemental look you can manage. "I know, Momma. I'm not silly. But I'm still going to make Morsa better."
In all honesty, Pernille is a little intrigued about how you're going to make Magda feel better with the first aid kit so she doesn't push anymore for you to leave the room.
"Does your head hurt?"
"Yes."
You bring out one of the bandages, winding it around Magda's head and tucking the end into itself.
"There you go!" You say," Now your head won't hurt. Does your throat hurt too?"
Magda nods.
You whip out one of the big plasters that's meant for big cuts and grazes on the knee and place it over Magda's mouth, making sure it's completely secure.
"You need to stop talking," You tell her sternly," Because that makes your throat hurt." You turn to Pernille. "Momma, I fixed her!"
Pernille has to force down her laughter at the bewildered expression on Magda's face.
"I can see that," Pernille says," We should leave Morsa alone now so she can recover. You did a good job."
You nod. "I know." You blow Magda a kiss. "I can't kiss you because then I'll get sick," You tell her," So have air kisses!"
You blow more kisses at Magda and shuffle off the bed, taking Pernille's hand.
"Can we finish watching Ben 10, Momma? It's a really good episode!"
#woso x reader#hardersson x reader#pernille harder x reader#pernille harder#magdalena eriksson x reader#magdalena eriksson#woso community#woso imagine#woso fanfics#woso#the big adventures universe
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Behind the Scenes of The Star Beast - Part Eight
Excerpts from Benjamin Cook's Star Beast Set Visit - discussing the Camden night shoots:
Is nobody here having a bad time?? WHAT'S WRONG WITH THEM? "I had a little lull earlier," admits David, "at 2AM when we were waiting to turn over- I definitely yawned, maybe twice - but then the blood starts pumping again." Wrap isn't till 3AM. David lives across town. Isn't he worried he'll wake up his family when he gets in? "Listen, the kids are at Davison's," he says (this is Fifth Doctor actor Peter Davison, who happens to be David's father-in-law), "so I'm full of beans. Oh, and sugar. Do you want some?" He's bought a churro from a market stall that's stayed open because it's very much in shot. "You can have more than that." He breaks me off a bigger piece. "The sugar rush will do you good." He offers the director [ Rachel Talalay ] some too: "Go on, Rachel, you deserve it." "Are you doing OK?" she asks him. "Yeah! Sugar! I'll move on to the Yorkie bars next. I give not a fudge at this time in the morning." He claps his hands, dusting off the sugar from his churro. "But are you OK?" "I am at this moment," she says, waving to some fans. "Tomorrow at 4:30AM I might not be. Ask me again then." "You do get a lot of love from the fans, don't you?" says David. "In a tiny way, which is just lovely. I mean, I'm not you," she says, with a laugh. "I love hearing them scream for you. But I'm not used to any of this. And… I think it's stopped raining." "OK, here we go," says Scott. "Let's go for one. Stand by then, folks…" They go for another take. And another. When I catch up with Rachel later – much later, it’s October 2023, and she’s chatting over Zoom from her home in Vancouver – we’re five weeks away from The Star Beast airing on TV. “I didn’t know quite how well the episode was working,” she says, “till my family watched an almost-finished cut. I came downstairs, and my two girls were crying. It was like, oh, OK, this does work! And on a much, much deeper level too. To have them go, ‘We knew it would be full of joy’ – which I think it is – ‘but we didn’t expect it to be so emotional,’ that was very satisfying. It was an emotional time all round.” It was. In more ways than one. Which is something that Rachel wants to talk about – here in DWM – for the first time publicly. “I think I can now,” she says, “because I’m close to two years in remission. I will be this month. Two years in remission. And Doctor Who really helped heal me. Directing Doctor Who while I was only a couple of months post-chemo.” A deep breath. “I had lymphoma,” she explains. “I’d been in chemo for seven or eight months. I wasn’t sure if I was going to survive. Then I was offered The Star Beast. I thought, I’ve got to do this. I didn’t tell anybody I was sick. I hadn’t told anybody except very close family. And I didn’t tell anyone on Doctor Who till I was there long enough to say, ‘Look, I’m well enough, so I don’t want you worried about me.’ Because, frankly, I don’t know that they’d have wanted to hire someone who might not have made it through the shoot. I totally get that. That’s fair enough. [...] “I could not have been surrounded by a more supportive crew,” says Rachel. “The best crew in the world. When I realised, it’s all night shoots, I thought, oh god, and I’m two months post-chemo. But that crew – David especially – made those night shoots so fun. It’s weird now, because I look back at the pictures – like that lovely one of me and David you published last issue – and that was my chemo hair. I was just getting my hair back. But I got healthier and healthier, stronger and stronger, as the shoot went on. When I got back to Canada, the doctor said, ‘You’re a poster child for how well someone can do after chemo. This is what people are capable of.’ “But it’s just what you do,” she reflects, “isn’t it? – when you love Doctor Who in your heart so much. There was no better place for me than Doctor Who.”
Additional parts of this set are in the #whoBtsBeast tag. The full episode list is [ here ]
#doctor who#david tennant#catherine tate#rtdedit#60th anniversary#dw 60th#rachel talalay#I'm so glad RTalalay was able to direct a special#and how special it was for everyone involved#apologies for the text being so long#but it seemed wrong to split it between 2 different posts#and I reused the photo of DT and RT since it gets a mention#stuff i posted#whoBts#whoBtsBeast#yay for talalay!
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episode five: dig dug
“You like Y/N?” Dustin asks at the same time as you ask, “You like me?” Steve rolls his eyes. “Yeah, barely. She’s on thin ice. But you, little Henderson? You just stole the flowers meant for my girlfriend, so backseat you go.” “Yes!” You cheer, pumping your fist in the air as you flash Steve a smile. “Thanks, Harrington.” He rounds the front of his car and opens the driver's side door. “Yeah, don’t get used to it. Like I said, you’re still on thin ice.”
Summary: you and dustin bury a body and con your mother into fleeing town, great sibling bonding time ! you play hockey with a monster, dustin gets ghosted by his friends, and now it's your turn to kidnap steve (technically dustin does, but you don't stop him) who later gives you some terrifying realizations.
Rating: general, swearing and slight violence
Warnings: blood, use of y/n, fem!reader, animal cruelty technically, weapons, cursing
Words: 7.5k
Before you swing in: hello ! late chapter update, but here ya go lovelies !! lots has happened recently, i got a sick ass job and im super excited and :))) so updates will definitely slow down again some more, but i promise i will update whenever possible. for now, please enjoy !
–
“Remember how angry I was at you about hiding El from me last year?”
“Yeah?”
“Visualize the anger, multiply it by ten, and then take three steps back from me.”
Dustin trips over his feet to scramble away from you.
You’re currently in your own room, the door locked, with Dustin standing several feet away now as he heeds your warning. Never in your life have you felt such rage before, such blinding fury, and you thought you knew what anger was when your dad left.
But this? This is a new type of anger, one you know that only the older sister to Dustin Henderson could ever feel.
As soon as Dart had lifted its head up at you and screeched, you’d immediately snatched your brother’s hand into yours and ran out the door, door slamming behind you. Now, you’re hiding out in your room with no fucking clue what to do.
“You killed our cat.”
“Technically Dart did.” You glare at Dustin. You had actually liked Mews, she was the sweetest cat in the world and a gift for your fifth birthday. Your brother, sensing he’s only digging a deeper hole for himself, coughs. “I mean… Yeah. I killed our cat.”
Stepping back, you find your desk chair against your legs and fall into the seat. Exhaustion sweeps over you. There’s no time to grieve the loss of your cat. Not when there’s a baby Demogorgon in Dustin’s room eating said cat’s corpse still. “What do we even do in this situation?”
“Not tell mom?” Again, you glare at Dustin and he squeaks in fear. “Well I mean, that’s all I can think of right now!”
A headache forms. “I should’ve gone with Jonathan and Nancy.”
Dustin thinks for a moment. “Where did they go, anyways?”
“No. You don’t get to ask any questions right now.”
“Yes ma’am.”
You sigh, a vague idea forming in your mind. “Okay, first we need get Mews out of the room. She was mom’s favorite child, we can’t just leave her in there to be diminished to bones.”
Dustin nods. “Obviously. We can do that… right?”
“We have to. Once she’s out of there, we just… leave Dart in there. At least for now. It’s already late in the afternoon and we need so much help from the party.”
“We can’t tell the party–”
“You’re right. We can’t,” Dustin sighs with relief, but you give him an evil smile. “But you can tell the party. You’ll radio everyone tomorrow, clean the house, and make a plan from there.”
Dustin tries to argue, but you hold a hand up. “You brought a baby Demogorgon into our house. You lost every arguing privilege there is to lose.”
He groans, knowing you’re right. Next time, he’ll be better at hiding things from you because you’re a total buzzkill whenever you inevitably find out.
Together, the two of you hatch a plan. You’ll walk into Dustin’s room first, knives out and ready just in case, and Dustin will follow once the coast is clear. Then, he’ll lure Dart away from Mews’ body with chocolate (you don’t want to ask why), and once he’s gone you’ll snatch your cat’s body and flee the room immediately afterwards.
It’s a good plan.
That is, if it works.
“Ready?” You’re standing in front of Dustin’s door, your knives flicked open in your hand, ready for possible war with a foot long little demon.
Your brother pats your shoulder. “Don’t die, sis.”
“I’m holding knives as we speak. Touch me again and die.”
“I hope Dart eats your face.”
You smile. “There’s my brother. Okay, as soon as I’m inside the room, close the door. Then, when I knock three times, open it again and enter.”
“Wait for two knocks–”
“Three.”
“Three knocks. Right.”
You steady your breathing. Around the corner, you can hear your mom humming to herself as she makes dinner. She has no clue what’s going on, and you envy her for it. Your hand on Dustin’s door knob twists slowly, then, before you can psych yourself out, you turn the knob and throw yourself inside.
Quickly the door slams behind you, so at least Dustin did something right.
Your eyes, which had previously been squeezed shut, open slowly. When you don’t see any sign of Dart, you exhale. So far, so good. You walk towards the couch and find the creature still eating away at your dead cat, which you gag at.
Poor Mews.
You rap your knuckles against the door three times, alerting Dustin to come inside.
He opens the door and walks in, his hands fisted against his face as if that would do anything to keep him safe. You roll your eyes and flick his head, which he whines at. “Grab the chocolate and distract Dart, please.”
Dustin runs over to his desk and grabs a Musketeers bar. When you see the candy’s name, you want to slam your head against the wall. You know exactly why the monster’s name is Dart.
“Let me guess,” you say, your tone mocking. “D’Artagnan?”
“Don’t you have a corpse to collect?”
You scoff at him but step aside so that he can dangle the chocolate in Dart’s face. You watch, alert for any signs of danger in case you need to step in, but the monster seems to be pretty friendly with Dustin. You guess they really did create a bond.
Once Dart is far enough away from Mews, you run over and snatch up her body. You try not to think about the possible cat guts now all over your sweater. That will be a later issue. Like a lot of things in your life recently.
“Go, go, go!” You push Dustin towards the door.
He doesn’t need to be told twice, throwing the last piece of the candy bar at Dart’s face and running out the door right behind you. Once you’re both out the room with the door closed, you both lean against the wall and exhale deeply.
“Good job. Now onto phase two.”
Dustin makes a face. “Why do I have to distract mom?”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” you hold up Mews’ bloody body. “Do you want to be the one to hold our dead cat?”
“Good point, I’ll go distract mom.” Dustin leaves, rounding the corner to go hopefully distract your poor mother in a sane way. With your luck, Dustin will spew some weird bullshit that will only make her more worried than she already is.
Right on cue, you hear Dustin say from the kitchen. “Mom, I think I broke my arm.”
The scream of fear your mom lets out would’ve been comedic had you not been holding her beloved dead cat.
Your mother runs around the kitchen, fretting over your brother, and the second she isn’t looking, you slip out the front door and quickly throw Mews’ body into your bush. You feel a bit bad about that, but there’s nowhere else to hide her body in broad daylight.
When you walk back inside, Dustin is being swaddled by your mother. “What did I miss?”
“Oh, Y/N!” Your mom sighs. “Dusty said he thought he broke his arm, but the silly boy seems to be okay.”
Dustin pats her back. “Ha, right. Silly me!”
Your mom looks up and then squints a bit, eying your sweater. You look down and your heart drops. It’s covered in Mews’ blood.
Fuck.
“Y/N, what’s that all over your sweater?”
“Paint!” You say while Dustin sputters, “Ketchup!”
“We… Were painting with ketchup.” You lie, sending a quick glare your brother’s way. Out of everything red, why ketchup?
“Oh, alright.” Your mom looks uncertain, but doesn’t say anything else about it. “Well, dinner is almost ready. Why don’t you go wash up, honey?”
The second you’re dismissed, you run into your room and yank the sweater off. You’ll burn it tomorrow. First chance you get.
A few seconds later, there’s a knock on your door before Dustin’s head pokes inside. “Dinner’s done.”
“Great. Holding your dead cat definitely works up an appetite.”
“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” Dustin tries to play it off, but you see the genuine upset in his eyes. He hadn’t meant to hurt anyone, and you know he loved Mews too.
You sigh and walk over to him and kiss his curls. “It’s okay. Next time, let’s not hide a monster from the Upside Down, yeah?”
“Deal.”
–
Dustin spends the night in your room, which you explain to your mom as needing some “serious bonding time”. She tears up at this, unaware of the fact that you’ll be making your brother sleep on the floor as punishment.
The next morning you and Dustin hatch yet another plan: get mom out of the house. Before you two can do anything else, you both agree that your mom cannot be anywhere near Dart. Plus, she’s already noticed Mews’ absence, so it’s only a matter of time before she finds the body in the bush.
“Alright, you’ll fake the phone call while I start gathering the supplies.” You tell Dustin while your mom calls for Mews outside. She’s at the bottom of the driveway, Mews’ favorite toy in her hand, shaking it around, unaware that the cat’s dead body is in the bush next to her.
“Got it. You remember where my old hockey suit is?” You nod at Dustin’s question, and he’s about to say something else before he sees your mom start walking back towards the house. “Shit! Game time, go!”
Dustin fumbles for the phone and you run to the living room closet. Just as you’ve entered your positions, your mom walks through the front door.
“Mewsy! Dusty, Y/N, sweethearts, you’re sure she’s not in your rooms?”
“No, mom.” You shake your head at her.
Holding up a finger, Dustin presses the phone to his ear and motions for the woman to remain quiet. “Uh-huh. Thank you so much, Mr. McCorkle. Thank you so much, you are a true lifesaver.”
You can’t help but roll your eyes. He’s laying it on pretty thick.
“Alright, this was great. Thank you, have a good one. Bye-bye now, all right. You too.” Dustin pretends to hang up the phone and smiles at your mom. “Alright, great news!”
“They found her?” Tears of joy lace your mother’s voice. You have to turn away, you know she’d notice the discomfort on your face. It feels horrible to be lying to your mother like this.
Dustin seems to be thinking the same thing, because he lowers his voice and gently approaches her. “No, but they saw her wandering around Loch Nora.”
More tears flow down your mom’s face. “How did the poor baby get all the way over there?”
“I don’t know, lost I guess. But they’re gonna look for her, and–and Y/N and I will stay here, just in case they call again. Right, Y/N?”
“Right!” You call from the closet, now quickly grabbing everything you can think of. Would a hammer be necessary?
“And you’re gonna go help look. Yeah?” Dustin’s only response is a relieved hug from your crying mother. “Yeah, give me a hug. Go get her!”
Your mom quickly composes herself and grabs her glasses. She presses a kiss to your forehead and seems to be in better spirits. “We’ll find her!”
“Mews will be home soon, mom!” You cheer, and your mom blows you another kiss.
“I love you,” Dustin sends her a thumbs up.
“I love you, kids.” And with that, your mom clutches her purse to her chest and sends one final kiss your way before shutting the door behind her.
As soon as the door shuts, you and Dustin scramble. Dustin heads to the backyard to open your cellar doors and you grab the remaining hockey gear from the closet. While you drag the uniform out to the living room, your brother begins to look through the fridge for any possible bait.
“Think Dart would like bologna?” Dustin calls over his shoulder as he digs around.
You groan, dropping the heavy goalie pads. “Last I checked, he wasn’t my secret Upside Down pet.”
“Touché.”
Dustin grabs the bologna and starts making a trail from his room towards the front door. While he does that, you start sorting through your own pile of gear, soccer to be specific. Dustin liked hockey, you preferred warmer sports. As you’ve finished lacing up your cleats and shin pads, Dustin returns.
“Okay, the bait is all set up. Got my hockey stick?”
You hand him what he needs. “Here, and your helmet is on the couch.”
Dustin gets ready and you retrieve some oven mitts from the kitchen. When you hand them to the boy, he looks at you like you’re insane. “What? Extra protection. Can’t hurt.”
He sighs and swipes them from your hand, putting them on. Once he’s ready, you help him stand up. He looks ridiculous in his old hockey gear, but you suppose you don’t look any better with your shin pads and Dustin’s spare shoulder pads.
“Alright. We all set?”
Dustin pats his helmet. “Ready.”
You walk towards his room, and once you’re there, Dustin pushes past you and bends down a bit so he can speak through his keyhole. “Alright, Dart. Breakfast time.”
“Do we have to mention breakfast right before we set him free?" You mumble, but your brother ignores you.
Slowly, he reaches towards the door handle and then flings it open. As soon as the door has been moved, Dustin practically knocks you to the ground in his haste to escape. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!”
His mantra reminds you of Steve’s from last year at Jonathan’s. Seems like the two boys have something in common: they’re idiots.
You follow quickly behind Dustin, terrified but at least trying to hide it, while your brother just repeats “oh my god”, and “shit” over and over again as he stumbles over the bait and out towards the front door.
If the situation wasn’t so grave, you’d be giggling at how dumb Dustin looks waddling over bologna on the floor. However, Dart could very well be right behind you, so you run after the kid equally as terrified.
“Shit, shit, shit, shit–”
By this point, you’re nearing the tool shed outside.
“I will push you down these stairs Dustin Henderson.”
Dustin shuts up and, as soon as you’re inside the shed as well, locks it behind him. Once he’s sure you’re all cleared, he lets out a breath of relief. “Okay, now we wait.”
You walk towards the wood panels, squinting as you peek through a gap to see outside. “I don’t see anything.”
Dustin does the same. “Come on, I know you’re hungry…”
Everything remains still outside, and you’re starting to worry that maybe Dart doesn’t like bologna after all, until you see his scaly body walk out the door. He gobbles down the bologna pieces one by one, which you cringe at.
“Yeah. He likes bologna, alright.”
Dustin silently cheers. “Yes! Yes, yes, yes!”
Dart makes his way down the trail, eating every piece he finds, and soon he scampers down the steps and hovers over the cellar doors. In an odd way, the little guy is kinda cute if you forget about the fact that he killed your cat.
“Yes, yes, yes!” Dustin continues to chant as you watch Dart. The creature just has one more piece of bologna left, he just needs to take a few more steps inside before you can slam the doors shut.
But, because nothing can ever be easy for you, Dart suddenly turns and looks straight at you and Dustin. “Shit!”
You flinch back, knocking into a bucket of nails that spill everywhere. “Shit again!”
Dustin tries to shush you but you grab him by his shoulders and force him behind you. Your knives are out, their blades gleaming in the sunlight that creeps through the wood panels. You peek through them to find Dart slowly approaching the shed, his mouth almost watering.
“Well, this isn’t good.” You take a breath to lessen your fear. “Stay here, I’ll try to distract him–”
“AHHH!” Dustin shoves you against the opposite wall, your body flinging back with a harsh crash, and breaks through the shed’s door. With one solid wack from his hockey stick, he flings Dart into the cellar.
“What the–Dustin!” By the time you make it out the shed, your brother has flung himself on top of the cellar doors, panting.
“Got him,” he informs you, as if it isn’t obvious enough. Dart begins to screech with anger, and Dustin sighs. “I’m sorry, you ate my cat.”
“You’re an idiot, Dustin.”
“Yeah, yeah. Just give me five seconds to catch my breath, please.”
–
With Dart safely locked away, you and Dustin are able to finally bury your cat.
It doesn’t take long, but the early November heat is just warm enough to make you annoyed as you dig through the soil in your backyard. Dustin has his walkie with him, trying to find the right frequency so he can call the party and inform them of what’s going on.
“Guys, this is Dustin again. Does anyone copy?” You stab at the ground with your shovel and your brother groans when he gets no response. “This is a code red. I repeat, a code red!”
Sweat trickles down your brow and honestly it should be Dustin burying the cat, but you’ve never learned how to radio the party so you just sigh and throw more dirt upon your dead cat. Dustin tries a few more times to contact the party, but no one responds.
“Damn it!” He shouts, frustrated.
“Language,” you huff out, more sweat forming.
It goes on like this for a while, Dustin trying and failing to reach anyone, as you two begin to clean the house of any blood and Mews guts. He tries again while you guys grab the cleaning supplies, then again while you’re on your hands and knees scrubbing his carpet in his room.
“Alright, it’s Dustin again. Seriously, I have a code red.”
“Maybe they don’t know what code red means?” You offer, your nose scrunched up due to the bleach fumes.
Dustin scoffs, “sure, and they also don’t know who Luke Skywalker’s father is–”
Suddenly Erica’s voice comes through the walkie. “Can you please shut up?”
“Erica?” Dustin stops scrubbing and straightens up. “Erica, is Lucas there? Where is he?”
“Don’t know. Don’t care.” Erica has always been such a lovely girl.
“Is he with Mike?”
“Like I said, I don’t know and I don’t care.”
You and Dustin share a look. It worries you that Mike hasn’t been responding all day. From what you’ve heard and seen, he’s spent every day this year camped out in his fort in the basement trying to contact El with the radio frequencies.
It’s not like to Mike to just disappear.
“Listen, Erica.” You speak up, trying to sweet talk to the girl. You’ve babysat her a few times and you’ve even managed to convince her you’re kinda cool, so maybe she’ll respond better to you. “Did Lucas mention anything else? Maybe… Maybe like a girl he went to see?”
Dustin frowns. “A girl? What–” You shush him and wait for a response.
Erica snorts. “A girl? Please, as if. He’s been gone all day. That’s all I can tell you.”
Your brother closes his eyes and sighs. “Please tell him it’s super important. Please tell him that I have a code–”
“Code red?” Erica interrupts.
“Yep, code red. Exactly.” Dustin smiles, then covers his mike to whisper to you, “seems like she likes me more than you–”
“I got a code for you instead. It’s called code shut-your-mouth.” Then, Erica switches off the walkie.
Dustin stares at nothing, dumbfounded. You go back to scrubbing the carpet, a pleased smile on your face. “So, you were saying?”
He’s quiet for a few seconds, processing the fact that clearly no one in the party will answer, before letting out an obnoxious groan. “Damn it!”
“Are you gonna help me clean, or–?”
“Can’t you just call Jonathan?” Dustin asks, grasping at straws. “Maybe he can be useful for once and help.”
You shake your head. “No, he’s out of town right now with Nancy.”
“And you’re okay with this because…?”
“Because,” you roll your eyes, “they’re on a secret mission to take down Hawkins Lab. They’re at some detective’s house right now, so I have zero way of contacting them.”
Dustin rubs at his eyes tiredly. “How did we get stuck with a cat eating baby demogorgon while Jonathan and Nancy get cool spy work?”
You pinch his leg, causing him to wince and move away from you. “Because you purposefully hid the baby demogorgon. Any other stupid questions?”
“Sure,” Dustin throws his hands up in defeat, obviously joking when he asks, “got any other friend we could call for help?”
A sarcastic laugh escapes your lips and you’re about to tell him that he has more friends than you’ve ever had, but then a thought occurs to you.
Steve.
Technically speaking, you’re friends. Well, sort of. Sure, he had wanted space yesterday in the lunchroom, and yeah he’s still mad at you and things are awkward at best between the two of you, but still…
He’d been at Jonathan’s house last year, he had fought by your side and saved your life and even bought you a vending machine full of snacks. If anyone else could understand the situation you’re in right now, it’s Steve.
You hesitate though. He still seemed really hurt at lunch, but you also saw the way he lingered even after dismissing himself. He doesn’t hate you, at least not really, and without Jonathan or Nancy to call, he’s the only person you have left right now.
It can’t hurt to try, at least.
“Actually, yeah.” You respond after a minute or so. “Be right back.”
Dustin asks questions as you head towards the living room, but you don’t respond. If Steve doesn’t answer, then you can make up some lie about the phone being broken or something to save yourself the embarrassment.
Your fingers press Steve’s long remembered number. He had given it to you his first week of visiting you at Bookstrordinary, assuring you that you could call him whenever. After a while, you took his word on it and started calling the boy every time you were bored and alone at work.
The line rings for a few seconds, and you bite your lip in anticipation.
This is a horrible idea, and yet your heart flutters when Steve answers with a groggy, “hello?”
“Hey, Steve.”
“Y/N?” He sounds surprised.
You can’t blame him, he did quite literally yesterday tell you he’s still upset with you and that he needs space. And yet here you are: calling him early on a Saturday afternoon. “Yeah, it’s me. Listen, I really need your help–”
A sigh. “Normally I’d love to, but I’m kinda in the middle of getting ready to go to Nancy’s.”
“Nancy’s? Steve, she’s not even home–”
“Can we talk later? I… I’d really like to talk, if that’s alright with you.”
This throws you, and for a second you forget about the reason you called. “Of course we can talk, Steve.”
“Great,” you can hear a smile in his voice, which warms you. “I’ll see you later, then.”
Then you remember Dart and the blood on Dustin’s carpet and you frantically try to stop Steve from hanging up. “Wait, no! Steve, Nancy isn’t home and I really need you to–”
The line goes dead, and you slam the phone down. “Damn it!”
Dustin, hearing the commotion, wanders into the kitchen. “Take it the call didn’t go well?”
“No, it did.” Sure, Steve didn’t necessarily offer his help, but he did tell you where he’s going to be in about twenty minutes. You’ll ambush him there and demand he listen to you and help. As a bonding exercise, of course. “We’re going to the Wheeler’s.”
“Why?”
“Steve’s heading there.”
Dustin trips over his shoelaces. “Steve Harrington?”
“Long story,” you sigh, dreading that you’ll have to explain all of this eventually. “C’mon, let's get our bikes.”
–
You and Dustin get to the Wheeler’s before Steve does, which makes no sense to you but whatever. He’ll be here soon enough and you’ll ambush him with all your charm and maybe a bit of groveling. You’re not beneath it, if you’re being honest.
Dustin goes up to the front door while you stay behind, keeping an eye out for Steve. Ted opens the front door and while you can’t hear what he says to Dustin, you know he’s unamused by his presence. The father has never been your favorite parent within the group, honestly.
You watch as they exchange a few more words before you see Dustin sigh and angrily march back towards you. Then, right as he’s grabbed his bike, a familiar red BMW pulls up. Just seeing his car makes your heart skip a beat.
The car parks and a frazzled Steve steps out, carrying flowers and mumbling to himself. You aren’t able to hear everything he’s saying, but you can hear the words “what the hell am I sorry for?” and your stomach twists.
So clearly he’s not in a good mood. Still.
The flowers, which you now can see are roses, hang by Steve’s side as he fixes his hair. He hasn’t noticed you yet, and it takes everything within you to pull your eyes away. He looks good today, too good.
There’s a monster currently locked in your cellar.
“Steve!” You rush over to his side.
He does a double take when he sees you. “Y/N? What are you doing here?”
“Well–”
“Are those for Mr. or Mrs. Wheeler?” Dustin now joins you two, pointing at the roses in the boy’s hand.
Steve looks between the two of you. “No…? You’re Dustin, right? Y/N’s brother?”
Dustin snatches the roses out of his hand. “Good, and yeah, I am.”
“Hey, what the hell?” Steve looks at you for help, but you know there’s no use trying to reason with your brother. He’s in a mood, similar to Steve, and you just sigh and follow Dustin. “Hey!”
“Nancy isn’t home.” Your brother informs Steve.
“Where is she?” Steve asks, and you hit his shoulder.
“I tried telling you over the phone!”
Dustin claps his hands at you to get your guys’ attention again. “It doesn’t matter where she is or if you tried to warn him, Y/N. We have bigger problems than your love lives.”
He’s at Steve’s car now and opens the passenger side door. “Do you still have that bat?”
Steve whips his head towards you. “Bat? What the hell is he talking about? Y/N, what are you guys doing here–”
“The one with the nails!” Dustin interrupts, exasperated.
Again Steve looks at you. “Why?”
“You’re not gonna like it,” you confess, and this only makes Steve feel worse.
“We’ll explain it on the way.” Dustin goes to sit in the passenger seat but he’s quickly stopped when you grab his hood and yank him out.
“No, absolutely not. I deserve the passenger seat, not you.”
Dustin slaps you away. “I got here first.”
“I was born first–”
“But I was literally about to sit down–”
“Hey!” Steve shouts, effectively shutting you and Dustin up. “It’s my car, and right now I currently only like Y/N, so she gets the passenger seat.”
“You like Y/N?” Dustin asks at the same time as you ask, “You like me?”
Steve rolls his eyes. “Yeah, barely. She’s on thin ice. But you, little Henderson? You just stole the flowers meant for my girlfriend, so backseat you go.”
“Yes!” You cheer, pumping your fist in the air as you flash Steve a smile. “Thanks, Harrington.”
He rounds the front of his car and opens the driver's side door. “Yeah, don’t get used to it. Like I said, you’re still on thin ice.”
He says it with annoyance in his voice, but you can see the smile he’s trying hard not to let slip, and you feel giddy. Steve obviously can’t be too mad at you if he wanted to talk later and is willingly letting himself be kidnapped by your brother.
Dustin, on the other hand, can’t believe any of this is happening. As soon as you’re all in the car he asks, “Since when did you two become friends?”
“I have a life outside of you and the boys, you know,” you tell him, but you avoid Steve’s gaze. It’s not like you intentionally hid this aspect of your life from Dustin, but… It also never came up, either.
“Sure ya do, but… Wait,” Dustin remembers something. “Oh my god, you have Steve Harrington’s number memorized?”
Your face heats up and Steve hides a smirk, but you see it anyway. You ignore his smugness and respond to your brother. “Like I said, I have a life outside of you.”
Dustin gapes at you. “I have so many questions–”
“I have an even better one: where am I taking you guys?” Steve asks, and suddenly you remember everything at stake.
“My house,” you tell him as you buckle up. He nods, although with some confusion, and then starts the engine. “You know how I called you earlier?”
“Yeah…?”
“Dustin, why don’t you tell Steve here what you found.”
Your brother sighs from the backseat. “A few days ago I found this… lizard of sorts.”
“A lizard.” Steve says, unimpressed.
“Oh, just wait,” you quip.
Dustin turns his head to glare at you and you give him a thumbs up. He scoffs at you before carrying on, “Yes, a lizard. I named him Dart and he was super cool, okay? I thought I had discovered a new species and that I would be super famous and better than everyone else.”
Steve glances at you next to him, raising his eyebrows and whistling low. “Wow, does humbleness run in your family, Y/N?”
“I’d say so, yeah.”
“Anyways,” Dustin interrupts, ignoring Steve’s laugh at your response. “Turns out, Dart is from the Upside Down.”
“The Upside Down?” Steve asks, extremely confused. He looks at you again in the mirror and it hits you that no one explained to him the events from last year. You assumed that Nancy would’ve, seeing as how they’ve been together for a while now and Steve had been with you guys at the hospital the night you brought Will back.
However, from his disbelief and confusion it’s clear that she hasn’t. If you had to guess, Steve probably went home that night and blocked out everything that had gone down with no questions asked.
You respect his repressing skills, honestly.
Dustin groans, beginning to grow impatient with Steve. “Yes, the Upside Down. If you have the bat still, how could you not know–”
“Do you remember that… thing we killed at Jonathan’s last year?” You cut your brother off before he can get too mean. You love the kid, you do, but he isn’t the kindest person when others aren't understanding him.
A dark look passes over Steve’s face and his fingers tighten around the steering wheel. It’s night now, and the atmosphere in the car becomes tense. “I remember.”
You clear your throat, “Well, this creature–”
“Demodog.” Dustin corrects from the backseat.
“Demodog?” You turn in your seat to face him. “That’s what we’re calling it now? Seriously?”
He shrugs. “It’s a baby Demogorgon, it looks like a dog, so… Demodog.”
You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Alright. Okay. Whatever, this demodog is from the Upside Down. It’s this parallel universe, basically. Creepy shit happens there, and last year a monster–”
“The Demogorgon.” Dustin once more interrupts.
“Dustin, if you want to catch Steve up then for the love of god, please shut up.”
“Sorry,” he mumbles, embarrassed.
A smile tugs at Steve’s lips and you take a deep breath to calm yourself before continuing. “Look, I don’t know how much Nancy told you about that night at Jonathan’s, but all that you need to know is that the Demogorgon took Will last year and we had to fight it in order to save him.”
Steve nods slightly as he follows along, “Nancy mentioned something about a monster at the hospital… she told me it’s what killed Barb, but never told me it had a name.”
Another silence falls between you guys in the car. The mention of Barb brings back bad memories for you both. You had liked Barb, she had always been nice to you, you guess. Hawkins is a small town. Everyone knows everyone, and in the end the smallness of the town is what makes the Upside Down so hard. You lose people close to you, one way or another.
And as for Steve… The roses he bought for Nancy lay wilted in his backseat.
Dustin shifts uncomfortably in his seat, and your heart pangs in understanding. He misses El, and you do too. The closer it gets to the anniversary of her disappearance, the more you miss the sweet and caring girl; but you know that the boys, Mike especially, haven’t given up hope for her.
“So…” Steve motions for you guys to continue explaining, and Dustin sits up in his seat to begin again.
“So flash forward to now: I didn’t realize Dart was a demodog until he grew like three damn sizes bigger than when I found him. Y/N and I almost died trying to lock him in our cellar.”
“Wait, you guys have a cellar?”
Dustin rubs his face, “That’s what you focus on, Steve?”
“It’s a valid question–”
“Guys!” You lurch yourself forward and wave your hands around wildly to break up their bickering. “We really don’t have time for this. Can we please just focus on the task at hand? Dart has probably grown even more during the course of this stupid conversation.”
Your brother’s hand pushes your shoulder back so that you’re now once again sitting, and you swat him away with annoyance. “Y/N, I’m trying! Blame Steve, he’s the one asking stupid questions–”
Steve speaks up, “What the hell? They aren’t stupid questions–”
“Well…”
Steve shoots you an offended look, “Y/N, I thought you were on my side.”
Dustin scoffs, hurt. “She’s my sister, you idiot!”
“Again, we seriously don’t have time for this because, once more: Dart is getting really big.” Your voice is louder this time, and thankfully it shuts everyone up. Then, just because you can, you add, “and I’m on Steve’s side right now. He’s the one with the car, plus… Well, I owe him.”
Steve fist pumps the air. “Suck it, little Henderson.”
“Do not call me that,” Dustin threatens him, then turns his attention to you. “First Jonathan, now Steve? Can’t you befriend anyone I like?”
The mention of Jonathan gets Steve attention. “Wait a sec, where is the guy? You never actually told me where he and Nancy went, Y/N.”
You sigh, knowing there’s no use keeping anything else from him. He’s already driving you and Dustin home to help with Dart, and you did promise to tell him where they were later, but life seemingly got in the way. “They’re playing detective right now.”
“Detective?”
“Yeah, the guy Barb’s parents hired… They’re currently at his place, exposing Hawkins Lab.”
A tense silence follows. Steve stares straight ahead, eyes on the road, as his expressions morph from hurt, to reluctance, to eventual acceptance. “Nance didn’t think to ask me to join?”
His voice wavers, just a bit, but you hear it. Knowing that Dustin is watching from the back, you decide to forget any possible boundaries for once and grab Steve’s hand. He’s hurting. The car smells of roses and there’s no girl to give them to. “She tried, Steve.”
He swallows. There’s hurt in his eyes and you want to reach out and stroke his cheek and tell him that it isn’t his fault. “I know…”
“Ahem,” Dustin coughs, clearly uncomfortable with whatever is going on. “So… Back to Dart.”
You clear your own throat, but your hand remains wrapped around Steve’s, who nods. “Wait a sec, how big are we talking?”
Without meaning to, you close your eyes and brace for Dustin’s witty remarks, but he surprises you by answering with a demonstration and zero mockery. “First it was like that,” he opens his fingers a few inches before using both hands to show about a foot in length. “Now he’s like this.”
Steve still looks doubtful. “And you’re sure it isn’t some weird lizard?”
A headache begins to form and you pinch the bridge of your nose again. “It’s not a lizard, Steve.”
“Well how do you know?”
“Because his face opened up and he ate our cat.” Dustin says bluntly.
This seems to shut Steve up and he nods his head in defeat. It’s silent in the car for the remainder of the drive, and just before Steve parks in your driveway, he looks over at you and sees your eyes closed in pain, and before he knows it he squeezes your hand and says, “sorry about your cat, by the way.”
Despite the pounding in your head and your utter exhaustion, his words make you laugh. “Just park, Steve.”
He smiles, feeling proud for getting you to laugh, and does as he’s told. Before you know it you’re standing at his trunk, staring at the baseball bat that saved your life last year. Dustin has already gone over to the cellar, waiting for you and Steve to follow.
The bat stares back at you, and you shiver as the memories come back. Though you had tried your best to forget that night, that entire week, honestly, it’s been useless. The nightmares still haunt you. You obsessively research trauma in children now to compensate for your own guilt from last year.
“Why’d you keep the bat?” You ask as Steve grabs it, giving it a practice swing. Your own blades are out again and he eyes their gleam.
“It’s kinda sick, don’t ya think?” He swings it again. “I look badass with it.”
He’s dodging, but you sense that he kept the bat for the same reason as why you kept the switchblade. You’ve been waiting in fear for something else to happen. “You don’t look too bad with it.”
Steve blushes a bit, which your stomach flutters seeing. “I, uh… Guess we can’t have that talk tonight?”
“No, not unless we somehow manage to deal with Dart in a timely manner. However, if I recall, nothing ever goes our way.”
“Nope!” He closes the trunk and tosses you a flashlight. Then, he sticks his hand out for you to shake. “But for now… Truce?”
You giggle. “Truce.”
His hand is warm, and even though you had just been holding it in the car moments earlier, his touch still fills you with a gooey warmth that you’ve come to associate with him. As soon as you and him are alone, away from Dustin’s nosy ears, you’ll really apologize to Steve. He may be being nice to you now, but he’s still guarding himself from you.
You hate it. You miss how open he used to be with you.
“Ready to go re-live my nightmares?” Steve asks.
You give him a thumbs up as you start heading towards Dustin. “Always, let’s go.”
“Took you guys long enough.” Your brother mutters when you and Steve arrive at the cellar, weapons in hand. You flash him an apologetic smile while Steve simply ignores him.
Steve approaches the door and listens for a second, “I don’t hear shit.”
You frown and listen as well. He’s right, it’s eerily silent. You shoot Dustin a questioning look and he shrugs as well, “He’s in there.”
“Duh, I know that much, You almost knocked me out when you shoved past me to get Dart in there.” you remark, before softly adding “he’s gotta be in there.”
Your words don’t reassure Steve, who begins to use the tip of his bat to bang against the locked doors. When nothing happens, he bangs harder against them before sighing in annoyance.
“All right, listen kid.” Steve begins, and you start to rub small circles into your scalp in a vain attempt to lessen your headache, because you already know that the next words out of his mouth will start yet another fight. “I swear, if this is some sort of Halloween prank, you’re dead.”
“Steve…” He ignores you and stares down your brother, shining the flashlight directly at his face in what you assume is meant to be a threatening manner.
“It's not a prank,” Dustin tiredly replies, squinting his eyes against the light. “Get it out of my face.”
Steve complies, still hesitant about the situation at hand, and turns to face you. “You got a key to this thing?”
You nod and fish the keys from out of your pocket and unlock the cellar doors. Steve bends down to investigate, and without him having to ask, you hand him the flashlight and step forward so that you’re next to him.
He flashes the light down the stairs and all that the three of you can see is darkness. An uneasy feeling creeps over you. Something isn’t right, but you really hope that you’re wrong.
“He has to be further down,” you say, more so to reassure yourself than the others.
Dustin shuffles his feet next to you and says, with an extremely unconvincingly “brave” voice, “I’ll stay up here in case he tries to… escape.”
Both you and Steve look at him in disbelief. Dustin stands his ground, however, and looks at the two of you expectantly. Steve shakes his head while you sigh in defeat. Your brother is such a pain sometimes.
“You do realize that if Dart eats me, you’ll have to deal with mom all by yourself, right?” You ask him.
The boy shrugs at you. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take, Y/N.”
“Yeah, love you too.” You mumble, before you begin to follow Steve down the steps.
“I’ll be thinking of you!” Dustin calls out, his voice echoing against the cellar walls.
You trail behind Steve, and the flashlight he brought does nothing to illuminate the dark area, so it’s a relief when he reaches above his head to turn the light on. As your eyes adjust to the light change, you scan the room to find the missing demodog. However, all your eyes land on is a long, thin sheet of film on the ground that you can only assume is molted skin.
“Oh, shit…” you breathe out. “This isn’t good.”
Steve picks the skin up with the tip of his bat and examines it and shakes his head. “Please tell me this isn’t Dart.”
“Actually, it’d be easier if it was him.”
Steve doesn’t laugh at your joke; he continues to look around the room before his eyes widen. You turn your head to see what’s caught his attention, and when you spot the problem, your knees weaken.
There’s a giant, Dart-sized hole in your cellar wall.
“Steve? Y/N? What’s going on down there?” Dustin’s voice carries down to you guys, and you and Steve share a nervous glance.
“Dustin…” You call up to him, your voice weaker than you’d prefer. You wish you could be braver for him at the moment, but right now it takes everything within you not to crawl into bed and shut the world out. Why did it always have to be giant monsters?
While you’re reeling, Steve walks over to the bottom of the steps and flashes his light at Dustin, instructing him to come down. Once the boy has joined you guys, Steve guides the light to his bat so that Dustin can see the skin.
“Oh, shit.”
“Funnily enough, that’s what your sister said, too.”
Then Steve shines the light to where the hole in the wall is, and you watch Dustin’s face go from concerned to horrified. “Oh, shit!”
The three of you crouch closer to the hole, and when Steve shines the flashlight through it, your heart stops and you gasp, “It’s a tunnel.”
“No way…” Dustin says in awe.
It’s hard to see exactly how deep the tunnel goes, but something tells you that there’s more to it than meets the eye. This wouldn’t be some simple fix like you had desperately hoped it would be.
Now you really, really wish Jonathan were here. And Nancy. Definitely Nancy.
But they aren’t. This time, you’re on your own with only Steve and Dustin by your side. No one else in the party is available, you don’t even know where they are or if they’re even safe, but right now that doesn’t matter.
What matters is that Dart has escaped.
And it’s happening again.
Everything you’ve tried so hard for the last year to ignore, to move on and pretend never happened to you, has come crashing back into your life.
Steve, seeing your apprehension, grabs your hand and pulls you in close. “Hey, we’ll figure it out. I’ll be here, okay?”
Even though you don’t deserve his kindness, his sincerity, you believe him.
-
⌑ series masterlist
⌑ if youd like to buy me a coffee ☕︎
⌑ thank you for reading ! feel free to like, comment, reblog, or send in an ask so we can chat <3
#steve harrington x henderson!reader#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#stranger things#steve harrington fanfic#stranger things rewrite#slowburn#angst#wtlws#m's writing#dart just wanted a quick snack guys#also dustin n bug are so so so sibling rn#i love em
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The thing about Episode 7, Jayvik and Timebomb
We like to joke about the whiplash from constantly shifting between Ekko's visit in paradise and Jayce's suffering, but....
I actually have to put the shipping googles back on for this one.
When Ekko and Jayce meet, Timebomb and Jayvik have basically been torpedoed. Ekko almost killed Jinx last season, and only hesitated at the last moment. He spent so much time telling himself Powder is dead and Jinx killed her, but now he is no longer so sure. Jayce meanwhile kept drifting away from Viktor and every time he thought he would bring them back together, he would fumble, last time they meet he was yelling, unable to understand why Viktor given up on him, as if Jayce haven't broken every promise he made to him by not destorying the hexcore and by weaponizing hextech. Ships aren't completely sunk, but they're gaining water fast.
And then the Wild Rune sent Jayce and Ekko to different worlds. Ekko gets the world that could have been, Jayce gets one that may be.
Ekko's life in a near-utopian version of Zaun quickly focuses on him falling in love with Powder that could have been. And why wouldn't he fall in love with her? Shems a genius, she's funny, she's creative...but I think with time he realizes that all these things can still be found in Jinx. He realizes Jinx didn't kill Powder, Jinx is Powder lashing out in pain.
And yet, this Powder is not free of pain either. It's different pain, that he actually stupidly pokes early on. Pain caused by different trauma, which she got to deal with, while having a better support network, but sitll present (I have seen somewhere a good argument she shows signs of depression, but forgot where). It's not that she deals with her pain better than Jinx, it's just different. And I see with time Ekko realizes that and realizes how wrong it would be to give up on Jinx, that the same person he loves is in her world, but she has no one to be for her what this Powder has in her Ekko, Mylo, Claggor, Vander and Silco (that last one is an assumption on my part, it's unclear how close he is with Powder in this world, but considering he apparently co-runs the bar with Vander, he has to be present in her life in some way). When Ekko decides to come back, he isn't doing it only because it would be unfair to Ekko of this timeline and to Powder and everyone who loves that Ekko. He also does it because he realzied what an asshole he'd be to give up on Jinx.
And remember, he has no fucking idea about the seven hells of bullshit that went down in his world when he was absent. He doesn't know about martial law, about Warwick, about Viktor, about Noxus. He's coming back expecting to deal with his tree being sick and Chem-Barons war.
Now let's look what Jayce goes through. He gets sent to hell where his dream goes horribly wrong, yes. But what quickly happens to him? He breaks his leg falling down the chasm. He ends at the very bottom of where Piltover used to be. Correction, where Zaun used to be. The enviroment is slowly poisoning him. He is forced to fight every second to survive. Poisoned by enviroment, limping, forced to use leg splint and a staff as a crutch. Sounds familiar? Moreover, he is then forced to climb his way from the bottom all the way to the highest tower of Piltover. I'm surprised more people aren't talking about this, the metaphor is laid down pretty thick. Jayce gets crash course version of Viktor's life, he is literally forced to walk miles after miles in his shoes. They even made his leg splint look like one League of Legends' Viktor had until 2024.
he never really could understand where Viktor is coming from, even at his lowest he still was a minor noble house, he still lived in good part of the town. And sure, he and Viktor became close, but then Jayce got seduced by the fame, by glamour, by being man of progress, by being savior of the future, by cushy council seat. Power makes it hard to see evil, and privledge makes you blind to human the suffering. This experience was eye-opening to Jayce. I wonder how many times he must have stopped himself and realize this is what Viktor goes through on daily basis. And, as we learned later, after Jayce climbed this way to the top of hell, he saw how much HE means to Viktor, how HE is the only person who can give Viktor hope and save him from his own internalized ableism. He goes back to save the world, but he also goes back to save Viktor.
These stories weren't paired jsut to fuck with us, they're pararells. Jayce and Ekko both were blinded, one by glamour, the other by hardship, they could no longer see real Viktor and Jinx, too wrapped up in the people the world forced them to become. Each one was forcefully stripped from his ideantity, and therefore his biases, and forced to actually SEE the person they love, not the false image they built, but real them. And then each one went back and each one reached to their respective love and save them. And jsut like Ekko went back in time over and over to make Jinx see he's there for her even if she hates herself, Jayce was willing to sacrifice it all to show Viktor he doesn't need to be perfect to be loved, because for Jayce he always was beautiful.
And I could probably write a whole separate essay about how this theme of tearing through your own bullshit and actually SEEING the other person is present in this season. How Jinx and Vi are forced to go through microcosm of each other's experience to rebuild their love. How Caitlyn is saved from her own descent into villainy by being forced to see how much pain she caused Vi, see a human in Warwick, see a wounded child in woman who killed her mother. How Vi stops her self-destruction by trusting Jinx and seeing Vander in Warwick. How Mel literally has to fight Illusionary Sorceres, a.k.a. LeBlac THE DECEIVER and defeats her with words "I see you". How Ambessa is the only person who doesn't go through this identity destruction this season, even i nthe opening proudly wearing red of Noxus, and that's why she fails. How Maddie being a spy is telegraphed from her first appearance, where she's blocking the sun, effectively obscuring Vi's vision and making herself harder to be seen. How Jinx and Sevika are forced to see people in one another now that Silco's gone. How even during sesbian lex Vi doesn't let Cait get bogged down in guilt because she sees the woman she loves and that's all that matters. How Ekko defeats Viktor by showing him he's wrong to think only he can achieve power of Wild Rune, but also by literally tearing off the mask of god from his eyes, so that Viktor can SEE Jayce again.
But it's 4 in the morning as I type this and I'm no longer being coherent. Episode 7 is literally the microcosm of the whole season and Ekko and Jayce go through the same character arc in it.
#arcane#arcane spoilers#arcane season 2#timebomb#jayvik#how the fuck is this show so fucking good?!#they fucking cooked so fucking well#I wanna scream#This post was supposed to be a quick observation#and it all cascades and connects with everything else#pray for me or I'm going to have to start making video essays to put all my thoughts together#I'll have to get a mic and camera ffs
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Are You Smiling?
Summary: Jax doesn’t want to talk about what happened at his employee evaluation… but at least he can make sure Pomni doesn’t suffer the same fate. Kind of.
Author’s Notes: I haven’t written for TADC so this was exciting! I hope the characters aren’t OOC. I feel like as the show goes on, Jax will either become more mean or nicer (or not really caring) so I wrote him to be a little kinder… I had to rewatch the episode to see when Pomni and Jax interacted in the episode to make this one, and I feel like this would make the most sense. A ‘What If?’ situation if Gangle didn’t interrupt Pomni and Jax talking.
Thanks to the anon for requesting this one!! If you would also like to request something, my ask box is open! :)
Words: ~900 | AO3 Link
This new adventure wasn't how Pomni thought it'd turn out to be.
At least it was better than the last one… that one was really scary. But she didn't like taking orders at a front desk, being abused by customers. They either weren't the nicest people, or they spoke too much about their personal lives (she didn't need to know all of that, thanks, Gloink Queen…)
But she was really disappointed that she saw Gummigoo, but came to realise that he didn't recognise her. It made her feel awkward - made her feel sad. But with Gummigoo being an NPC, she didn't really know what she expected, honestly. It must be a ‘different’ Gummigoo, she supposed.
Her elbows rested against the serving counter as her head plopped down into her hands with a heaping sigh. She frowned at all the mixed emotions inside her. The adventure today, the previous ones… being stuck in the circus.
However, when someone came to the counter beside her, it pulled her from her spiraling thoughts.
It was Jax, and he seemed worse for wear, too. He practically collapsed onto the cold counter. He looked like he was sick of this as well.
“How’re you doin’?” He asked with a sigh.
“Everything's been…” her eyes darted around at first. Why would Jax care how she'd feel? He bullies her a lot whenever he's around. She squinted her eyes at him in suspicion as she reached up to rub the back of her neck. “I'm doing… fine…”
Jax let out another sigh as he pushed himself up from the counter, adjusting his uniform hat. “Wish I could say the same…”
Pomni frowned at him. “Why? What happened?” She turned herself to face him.
Jax gazed over her, a frown of his own. But thinking about what happened earlier… in the room with the chair… he visibly shuttered. “I… don't think you want to know. And I don’t really want to talk about it…”
“Why not? I'm sure Gangle wouldn't do anything bad to us. I know she's a little… manic at the moment, but that's just for this adventure, right?”
“It’s got something to do with that mask Zooble gave her… she actually kind of scares me a little now.” As he spoke, Jax reached out his hands and placed them on Pomni’s shoulders.
Pomni jumped at the touch. He's never really touched her without malicious intent before. “Jax, what are you–”
“Look; just follow Gangle’s rules until this stupid adventure’s over. Zooble doesn't care, and Ragatha’s… really out of it. If you don't want Gangle to do anything to you, you need to make sure you're following her expectations. And whatever you do, you need to smile.” Jax released one of her shoulders to point his finger into her cheek to make his point clear.
Pomni’s eyes darted to his finger on her face, and then to Jax’s eyes. “J… Jax, I don't underst–”
“Promise me, Pomni. You don't want to know what happens when Gangle notices you're not smiling.” Jax warned.
Pomni raised an eyebrow. “It's not like I can just smile on command, Jax. Especially after a day like today.” Pomni sighed and shook her head as she spoke.
“Well then, I'll help you out.”
“What? How– pfft, hahaha!”
Pomni didn't have a moment to think or even ask what he meant. Jax’s hand slipped from her other shoulder down her arm to grab her wrist. He grabbed on and pulled her arm high above her head, then he started poking into her side with his opposite hand.
Jax has tickled her a few times previously since her arrival at the circus - mainly to mess with her and push her buttons. At least this time, he wasn’t doing it purely for his own amusement.
“Hahaha, J-Jax?! Why?? Ahahaha!!” she couldn't stop herself from giggling and squirming about. “She… hehehe!! She'll hear!”
“I know. But at least you won't be able to wipe the ticklish smile off of your face.” He had to smile too - he always did whenever he messed with Pomni. Though, this time, he was doing this to look out for her.
Jax switched to squeezing Pomni’s upper ribs, which he knew drove her absolutely insane. Pomni squealed, tugging on her arm to try to move away. But Jax had a pretty good grip on her.
“I-I'm smiLING! JAX, I'M SMIHIHILING!!” Her voice rose as the ticklish feeling overwhelmed her. She didn't think Jax would let up, until…
“Jax, stop messing around at the front counter! What if a customer comes in?” Gangle’s voice could be heard from the other end of the restaurant. “I pay you to serve customers and clean the store!”
Jax slowed to a stop, Pomni could finally catch her breath. “...She doesn't pay us at all…” he groaned, letting go of Pomni’s wrist. “Look, just remember what I told you, okay?” Jax eyed Pomni, she nodded in understanding. Jax turned to leave.
“Jax? ...thanks for looking out for me. For once.”
Jax turned her head as she uttered those words. He gave a small smile as he walked off into the back, letting his smile do all the talking.
“Alright, Gangle. What do you need me to do now?” Jax’s voice faded out as he moved to the back of the establishment.
Pomni placed her hands on the counter, easing her breathing. The smile was indeed still on her face after all of that.
It was nice that Jax was looking out for her.
#my writing#my fic#my fanfic#tadc#the amazing digital circus#tadc tickles#tadc tickling#the amazing digital circus tickles#tadc jax#tadc pomni#lee!pomni#ler!jax#tickle community#tickling#tickle content#tickle fic#my tickle fic#hope this one isn’t bad#im not the most confident about this one…#probably because writing for tadc is new to me
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I watched AYS for the first time since the show ended today as I was off work sick, and it hit me. They are together.
As in truly and utterly together.
Objectively speaking if anyone was to watch the show, at least the Japan episodes out of context, without knowledge, without prejudice, without malice, they would see a couple. I do know how this isn’t widely seen in the fandom, I’m assuming cult hate and delusion, and ignorance/homophobia, but it’s so so obvious, and I think Jimin and JK knew certain people would see them. I think they wanted that.
In the interest of finding said objectivity I got a friend to watch with me on Disney, and she asked if they were together. Case in point.
They went to a romantic and safe place, one which holds precious memories, where they saw their first snow, walking around like in a hallmark movie, eating good food together, and just being together. I’m not even talking about the train ride, or the hot tub, it’s just how they are. So entwined, they literally move together. They are so in sync, so domestic. This doesn’t come from thin air, or not seeing each other, this level of intimacy is not born of friendship however deep, it’s more.
Take the meal they have in their pjs. Who does that on a bros trip firstly? And then watching them there, it’s so cosy and cute. Jimin only has to pout about wanting more of one of the dishes, and it suddenly appears. Friends don’t do that, or not any that I know, it would be an individual decision, you’d be paying for yourself kinda vibe, not pouting and getting your own way. Same as in the grocery store in CT, Jimin points and rubs his tummy, and gets his way. It’s so cute and endearing.
The constant need to touch, I know about skinship, but this is so different, it’s innocent in someways like they are holding back, but the eyes don’t lie, and there were many moments you can see it truly in all it’s glory.
It’s just so romantic, none of the last three episodes had a bro vibe, neither did CT honestly, and the jeju episodes serve to highlight just how coupley they are.
All this to say I love their love.
Aahh anon what you say is music to my ears I agree with you 100% 👏🏻
I think most people from outside would see them as a couple. That's why it is so wild most people in the fandom are still in denial about this.
The level of intimacy, domesticity, the touches, the looks, the words, the tones, the way their personality are complimentary, the way everything matches between them, how happy they are together, how flirty they get, the little soft moments as well as the loud shocking ones; everything about them screams couple and long-term, stable love relationship.
Why people still do not see it is beyond me. I think it comes down to that they do not want to see it. Simple.
Because everything has been there for years if PEOPLE SIMPLY PAID ATTENTION and I had so much fear about AYS, because it would be blatantly obvious and it was. But I underestimated to which length and mental gymnastics people would do to stay in denial. Some people still managed to try to belittle their bond. How far are they willing to distort reality? How far are they willing to go for reality to fit their own fantasy or fit this fucking bro agenda bullshit? (I'm sick of it)
They are in love.
A part of me wishes everyone would see it. That everyone would get it and support it. But I know this is very selfish, an egoic way to prove everyone we were right all along. But there is nothing to prove. And it would not serve them. If everyone knew it would put them in danger. Because a lot of people aren't loving, and their own country would give them hell.
So maybe this is all a blessing, that just some of us see it and support in our own corner, maybe it's best it does not get too noisy.
I think jikook suspected it. I think a part of them counted on it. They observed the fandom and know how it operates.
Which all keeps them safe.
Those with open hearts and a clear vision saw how incredibly romantic AYS was.
Jikook even repeated it several times.
It was all so gentle and soft, funny and cute, with an ease and a comfort only truly loving partners can convey.
It was joy and happiness, seeing them together.
It was love in it's purest form.
They really bring out the best of each other.
Anyone not seeing this is a fool but to each their own I guess
I'm in love with their love too. It's only natural to be attracted to beauty, and with these two pure souls having a love such as theirs? It's simply magnificent.
AYS went beyond my expectations. There were many things that did not suprise me. But what truly surprised me is seeing..how to put it...the passage of time? The feeling that yes they have been together FOR A LONG TIME and it showed.
Because there was no rush. There was not the visceral need of young love. It was slow, careful, assured, known, tender. It was simple and natural. As easy as breathing.
They are completely intertwined with each other like it's supposed to be this way. And it is.
Isn't it all perfect? It's perfect. It's beautiful. It's pure love. They have butterflies. I have butterlies too.
They don't have anything to prove anymore. And I think there's no need for us to prove it either for any other part of the fandom that don't want to open their eyes to something that is STARING AT THEM IN THE FACE. Let them in their own lies. We know what is true and what is just and it's ok.
Jikook are happy so it's all fine with me.
They know some of us fully support their relationship and I guess it's enough for them.
Thank you for sharing your thoughts anon 💜
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those mlp infection aus on tiktok have been alright but heres my idea to consider:
the main characters of the au are the cmc. theyre not the lone survivors, and heres why: the infection almost entirely affects adults. this is just like a book i read in 5th grade, thats where im stealing this from.
Applebloom is the self appointed leader, shes best at foraging for food and growing it as well as building re-enforcements for the shelter (which is the clubhouse. it's higher up so they dont have to worry about most infected ponies reaching them.)
Scootaloo is the defender of the base as well as the group in general. shes the one who handles the weapons and is first to sacrifice herself for her friends to get to safety. She says its because he doesnt want to hold them back due to her disability, they tell her she doesnt have to think like that. but its hard not to.
Sweetie Belle is... not all there. sometimes she forgets the apocalypse has happened and that most of her loved ones are dead. Scootaloo and Applebloom take turns sleeping during the night to make sure someone is always lookout. that, and they can't risk Sweetie Belle unknowingly walking into the dark trying to get home.
Partially inspired by one of the best animes ive ever seen: School Live, Scootaloo and Applebloom sometimes, when Sweetie is having an episode, pretend everything is normal. Is the most they can do for their friend, who is clearly so traumatized that her brain blocks out the reality of their situation. Sometimes, Applebloom wishes that could happen to her.
When the infection started, it slowly took over the elderly first. Granny Smith got sick, fast. Big Mac and Applejack took care of her, but only a few days later she would turn into some kid of monstrous creature. Big Mac did the unspeakable act of putting her out of her misery.
Sweetie Bell was sent to go live with Rarity while her mother was sick. Her father began to feel ill too, and didn't want her to get herself and her friends at school sick as well. She could hear over the phone the conversations her sister and father had. How mom was getting worse, how dad was getting worse. How they stopped calling altogether.
A couple days into the widespread sickness, Scootaloo's aunts took a trip to the store to stock up on groceries just incase a quarantine was issued. They were gone for hours. They were gone for days. They never came back. Eventually, Scootaloo traveled outside of her home by herself, and could never return.
Once Big Mac and Applejack started showing signs of illness, Applejack spoke to cousins in other places wondering if they would be able to let Applebloom stay with them a while. But just like everyone in Ponyville, they were experiencing the same issue. At one point, Fluttershy agreed to watch Applebloom until AJ and Big Mac started to feel better.
After hearing that Fluttershy graciously took in Applebloom, Rarity sent Sweetie Belle off to her the moment she started to cough. She didn't want Sweetie to see her like that. She didn't want her to get sick either, and in fact, she probably transported it from their parents house and into Rarity's. That made Rarity angry. Her last words to Sweetie were about how upset she was that she'd brought the illness to her.
Scootaloo went to Fluttershy herself. She couldn't find Rainbow Dash, so she settled for the next best pony. She was shocked to see her friends had been there themselves the past few days. Scootaloo only managed to stay a few hours, because during the night the crusaders awoke to a crash in another room. Upon investigation they saw Fluttershy hunched over a broken glass. There was blood on the floor.
They went to comfort her, but she wasn't herself any longer. When she turned to face them it already looked like she'd been ravened by the infection. She was so hungry. Why couldn't the jar just open? She was so... hungry. Before she could even stand back up, the crusaders grabbed their things and fled to the only place they knew they'd be safe. The clubhouse.
#my little pony#mlp#mlpfim#mlp infection au#applebloom#scootaloo#sweetie belle#cutie mark crusaders#infection au#apocalypse au#ive made myself giddy thinking about this. i need to draw up some concept designs.
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Congrats again my love!! How about Tommy and 22? Maybe some smut? Maybe some angst? I can’t wait to read what you will come up with 🤍
Thanks so much for sending this in, Chi! I didn’t go full on smut here because I can’t write it for the life me, and the angst wasn’t the main element, but this idea came to me after re-watching this episode and I ran with it. I hope I did your request justice! Enjoy! :)
PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!
Part of my 3.5k celebration — check out others!
A Long Day
Tommy Shelby x Reader
Warnings: language, mentions of blood/injury, suggestive situations (nothing too graphic)
Word Count: 1223
Summary: After a long day, Tommy just wants to be with (Y/N). (Y/N), who’s not seen him for the entire day, has some words to say to him first.
Tommy had had a long day. After handing money to the family of the boy who shouldn’t have died, meeting with Campbell and dealing with all that entailed, making sure his derby horse was transferred to its trainer, and Michael coming to make a pitch to be considered for the spot of company accountant, he wanted nothing more now than to get his mind off of all of it.
After telling Michael that he’d need to speak with his mother about the position first, Tommy was finally heading home. The door to 6 Watery Lane couldn’t come fast enough, but when it did, he stopped to take a deep breath before opening it. He hoped there wouldn’t be another item of business waiting behind it.
(Y/N) had been sitting in the front room of the house on Watery Lane for a few hours now. She’d been waiting for Tommy, who promised her he’d meet her and that they’d go somewhere for dinner.
Her eyes snapped to the door the second she heard it open, and she was up from the couch and walking over to Tommy as soon as she saw that it was him. “Where’ve you been, Tommy?” she questioned, trying to keep her emotions in check.
“Love…” Tommy sighed, his gaze finding the far wall as she came to stop in front of him. This already seemed like it was shaping up to be another item of business.
“You said you’d meet me for dinner three hours ago. Three, Tommy! And I’ve been sitting here, worried sick about where you could be and what you could be doing. I talked to Pol, you know. She said that you…”
(Y/N) was unable to finish her worry-driven rant because Tommy had reached out and took hold of her cheeks, effortlessly bringing her lips to his in a fervent kiss, one that was effective in derailing her train of thought. The kiss lasted until her lungs were screaming for air, making her be the one to pull back; her forehead resting against his.
“Where were you, Tommy?” she asked in a breathless manner a few moments after they’d parted.
“I’ve had a long fucking day,” he responded, his statement not answering hers in the slightest. (Y/N) exhaled a sigh, her nonverbal way of telling him that his answer wasn’t good enough. He distracted her before she could speak, dropping his hands from her cheeks so that they could snake around her waist, pulling her flush against him. “I need you, love,” he mumbled, his lips finding hers again.
“Polly told me that you’re looking to have Michael join,” (Y/N) took her chance and mumbled against his lips the second he broke away from her, “said that the day hell freezes over is the day he’ll be part of the business.”
“Not now, love’,” he deflected yet again, his face dropping to the spot where her collar met her jaw, his lips finding the skin present there.
“Tommy…” she meant to sigh, but his name escaped her lips through a moan instead.
“Hmm?” he hummed into the skin of her neck, his half-minded question doing more to distract her than it did to get her to continue the conversation.
“What are you doing with the business?”
Her question got him to lift his head, and he let his eyes dance over her face for a moment, licking his lips before he responded: “I have no interest in speaking about business at this moment,” he told her in a straightforward tone. His eyes then flitted to her lips for a moment before he leaned in and kissed her again.
This kiss was even more persistent than the last, and it made clear to (Y/N) what was on his mind. She let him win this time, staying focused on the feeling of his lips against hers as her hands traveled up to rest against his cheeks.
He pulled her deeper still, the feeling of his body flush against hers making her moan into the kiss as it intensified. Her hands didn’t stay on his cheeks for long before they were traveling upward to remove the peaked cap he was still wearing. She was going to do so with the intention of being able to tangle her hands into the longer strands of his hair, but something she felt on her left hand stopped her in her tracks. It had a sticky consistency, one that made her freeze mid-kiss and drop her hands from his face.
Tommy, still not wanting to stop, began placing kisses to her jawline, his hands working to bunch the fabric of her dress up so that he could take things further with her. He had a one track mind in this moment, working fervently to get what he needed.
But those thoughts were the furthest from (Y/N)’s mind now. Now, she wanted to get to the bottom of what she’d felt on the side of his face. It took a deal of strength for her to open her eyes, but when she did, they widened immediately.
“Do you know you’re bleeding?” she asked him, shock present in her voice when she was met with the sight of her red fingertips.
The grunt that Tommy elicited in response wasn’t enough for her, so she took matters into her own hands - quite literally - by grabbing his cheeks and lifting his face up so that she could inspect it. There was no injury that was screaming at her as she looked at him head on, but the reason behind the blood became clear when she turned his head to make him look to the right.
“You’ve got a cut on your temple,” she told him, squinting to inspect the injury further. It looked to be superficial, but still she had to wonder just for how long he’d been walking around with it bleeding. “What happened?” she tried then, manually turning his head so that he’d be looking at her again.
She knew just from the look in his eyes, how the once calm oceans were now darker from an impending storm, that she wouldn’t be getting much of an answer out of him. But hey…it was worth a try.
He let his eyes travel over her face, drinking in every inch of it as a grin tugged at the corner of his lips. “Was a long day, (Y/N),” he mumbled, his hands continuing what they were doing, bunching up the fabric until he found the smooth skin of her thigh.
(Y/N) was the one to lean in for a kiss this time, and she pulled back with a similar grin present on her face. “Well maybe there’s something that can be done about that,” she told him, her voice not even needing to take on a suggestive tone for him to make the next move.
She couldn’t help but shriek as he lifted her into his arms, his hands brushing higher up her thighs as she hooked her legs around his waist. A stream of giggles left her lips as Tommy walked them to the stairs and up to his bedroom.
He may have had a long day, but at least he was - hell, they both were - ending it on a high note.
—damn y’all…I know I promised they won’t all be this long, but oh boy did I get carried away here. Sorry, not sorry!
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Offtopic Offseason #2 - The Incoherent Musings of a Star Wars Fan in Big 2024.
So, being a Star Wars fan is hard.
I don't mean that for some stupid "STAR WERZ IS WOKE NOW! CHILDHOOD RUINED!" bullshit, I mean being an actual fan of Star Wars.
I want to watch Star Wars shows, I want to play Star Wars games, and I deeply disagree with the idea that Disney is making too much Star Wars stuff. No, in fact, my stance here is quite similar to my stance on superhero fatigue from the last Offtopic Offseason - and that's that people aren't sick of Star Wars, they're sick of bad Star Wars content.
Let me put it this way - the only buzz I've heard about Skeleton Crew is that they referenced something from the Holiday Special and that there's a kid from that Max Rebo species - the Ortolans, the blue elephant guys. That doesn't fill me with an urge to watch it.
Just like I haven't had the urge to finish The Bad Batch.
Just like how I haven't picked up Star Wars: Outlaws yet.
There is, however, one Star Wars project that I did engage with in 2024: the Acolyte. Yup, the show that the internet was shitting on before it even came out and the one that they managed to get cancelled despite the first season ending on a blatant cliffhanger. I want to talk about that show.
Why? Because the thing is...I don't think the show is that bad.
I certainly don't think it's any worse than Book of Boba Fett or some of the later episode of the Mandalorian.
In fact, I'd say the concept of the Acolyte is more interesting than either Mando or Boba Fett, and here's why: the idea of a woman, who had the only home she ever knew taken away from her by the Jedi, training under a Sith to get revenge is an interesting premise.
That same Sith disguising himself as her bumbling accomplice to monitor and influence her had potential as well.
The Jedi Order being this corrupt, detached organization trying to maneuver the political intrigues of Coruscant is interesting, as is the fact that the plot is ultimately set into motion by Master Sol making a series of impulsive and violent decisions - thinking they he knew better - that ended in him killing the girls' mother, Aniseya.
All of that I'm good with.
There are a few things I'm not so good with. The vergence stuff and how that relates to the twins (and them being two sides of the same person) didn't quite work with me. I also felt that some of the stuff they did with Aniseya in the final two episodes undercuts the Sol storyline, because one: she really does demonstrate she's dangerous, and two: if you're still planning on letting Osha go with them, why are you using a Dark Side ritual to turn yourself into an dark smoke monster and absorbing your other daughter while doing so?
Like if the point you're going for is that Sol broke the Jedi teachings because of his selfish attachment to Osha - later leading to Osha killing him as her fall to the Dark Side - then why are you giving him a justifiable reason for stopping Aniseya?
And I guess on some level, I question how much purpose there was to having both Osha and Mae as characters. I know this is probably approaching a sort of Ship of Theseus point where I change so much about the Acolyte that it's not the Acolyte anymore, but I feel like there was a way to tell this story with just one character rather than this split person/twin thing.
You know what, I'll commit to it - here's how I would've done the Acolyte show.
Indara, Sol, Kelnacca, and Torbin go to investigate Brendok, just like they do in the show, however, when they find the convent of Dark Side witches, they decide they need to stop them. So rather than a series of potentially sympathetic misunderstandings, it's that the Jedi saw a Dark Side threat, they got spooked, and they decided to crush it.
This is to mirror some of the other darker Jedi moments in Star Wars, such as Mace Windu saying that the "oppression of the Sith will never return" before attempting to finish off Palpatine, or the Legends lore of the Jedi bombardment of Korriban after the Great Hyperspace War, aiming to destroy it.
Neither of these things worked, sure, but it demonstrates a rare Jedi ruthlessness that could suit this story nicely.
Anyway, having lost the only family she had, Osha (who, remember, we're treating as a single person at this point) wanders the galaxy and eventually winds up at the ruined Sith Academy on Korriban - and here she finds Qimir.
Qimir plays it cool and doesn't quite reveal who he is but starts telling Osha about the Sith and feeling her out, trying to figure out if she'd make a worthy pupil or not. Qimir sends Osha through the tombs like in KOTOR or like the Sith Warrior/Inquisitor storylines in SWTOR and starts revealing more about the Sith to her as she goes on. By the end, she believes in it, is willing to become a Sith, and makes a red lightsaber.
Then Qimir sends her out to hunt down the Brendok Jedi. At this point you could probably split the show into a season one and two, where the first season, "The Acolyte" is the story of Osha being an acolyte on Korriban, and the season two would be like "The Apprentice" or something a bit less trademarked, probably, and be about Osha actually hunting down the Jedi.
And hey, maybe it's a shitty idea, but I think it would place the show better in the lore and give us an interesting perspective where we follow a Sith character who fully believes she's in the right, and because of how this version of the Brendok events played out, we can't really say she's wrong either.
Maybe all of that is a product of the kind of Star Wars fan I grew up as though. I was born in the prequel era, meaning that for me, Phantom menace, Attack of the Clones, and Revenge of the Sith were always part of Star Wars. I grew up playing KOTOR on my dad's computer and then later watching Clone Wars and then after that getting really into SWTOR for awhile in the early-to-mid 2010s.
Star Wars to me is lightsabers and deep lore and the Jedi versus the Sith.
I guess that's why Acolyte, for all its flaws and mistakes and strange writing choices, got my attention in a way that a lot of Star Wars stories haven't.
I mean, I watched Acolyte all the way through while I still haven't felt motivated enough to watch Andor - I'm sure that for a lot of nerds, that's downright sacrilege - but that's where I'm at with this franchise.
Do you have any idea how long it's gonna take for someone to be willing to make a female-led Sith show after how the Acolyte bombed? I'll be waiting decades at this rate. I'll be waiting even longer when I ask for those characters to one: be aliens because goddamn all these species in the galaxy but the only ones that ever seem to do anything are humans, and two: be lesbian because...I dunno man, representation makes me feel good.
I guess Mother Koril checks a lot of those boxes but...she's got like fifteen minutes of screentime max and then kinda turns into a cloud of smoke and we don't see her anymore. Is she dead? Is she alive? Is she some other third thing?
Nobody knows.
And we're probably never gonna know because the show's been cancelled.
Fun times.
So yeah, these are some incoherent musings from a long-suffering Star Wars fan in 2024.
Like the meme says...
Star Wars would be so good if it was good.
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nemesis; part two.
pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader
summary: with carmen reworking the restaurant, you’d think his mind would be far too occupied to even think about anything else. yet he can’t shake the guilt from what he’d put you through a month prior. after some talks in therapy, he decides to take a leap of faith and see if he can talk it out with you. he not only wants to convince you that he can be better, but he's got an offer for you too. one you truly can't refuse.
♡ landing page ♡
word count: 4.9K
tags: carmen being unsure about his feelings but trying to be better episode 3265742, letting reader in a little more, APOLOGIES!!!, cursing ig, carm goes to therapy yippee, syd being the absolute realest, regular font below!
notes: sorry this took literally forever omg, I lost my carmen muse for a bit but we are SO back baby. I missed him so much and so sorry if some things don't follow the canon completely (I've been watching season 2 on and off bc I've been so busy lol BUT my fics never follow the canon completely anyways),, hope u guys enjoy and let me know if you'd like a part three ;))
lmk if you'd like to be added to the tag list for further carmen berzatto related content! comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!
Carmen’s life hadn’t known a moment of mental rest in ages. If you asked him when he last sat down with his thoughts or acknowledged his mental anguish, he probably would have said he couldn’t remember the last time. If ever.
With plans to completely revamp The Beef and everything that came with it, now his feelings should be the last thing on his mind. Renovation plans, unforeseen costs and a completely new menu, sure, he could worry his ass off about those, but feelings? Absolutely not. Good thing he was usually so good at suppressing those anyways.
So why was it that he couldn’t shake the thought of what he did to you?
Why, every time he had a moment to himself, would he be overtaken by this intense feeling of guilt? He didn’t even have to be alone, just a second of quiet and the image of you crying in distress would intrude on his thoughts.
It was getting to a point where he’d told his sister, Natalie, about it. Well, not all of it, he wasn’t even sure if he knew all of it. Just that he knows he hurt you, and that coming to terms with what he projected onto you might be a good first step in understanding himself better.
Or maybe it was something more along the lines of “I gotta talk my shit to some people”. Probably that.
To his surprise, it was actually helping. Besides the group therapy sessions where he’d talk about Mikey, the business and his future, he was talking to other people in his life too. Even told Sydney about you, kind of on accident. The words just seemed to… Flow out. It was probably the exhaustion doing its thing.
“I guess I just felt like,” he kept his eyes on the floor he was sweeping, “she was doing it all to fuck with me. I don’t even know where I got the sick idea that she had some obsession over me, but it— it drove me at the same time. It’s like her being on my heels at every aspect of culinary school just made me want to try even harder.”
“Maybe you painted her in that light because you knew it was a good way to keep pushing yourself.” Sydney spoke almost absentmindedly, sweeping the other side of the room. She listened to everything he said in the meantime, and though what he was telling her was a bit worrying, she was glad they got to have talks like this. Carmen often doesn’t like to bring up his past like that.
“Huh,” he paused sweeping for a moment, “yeah… yeah, maybe. Or maybe it was something else.”
Sydney wasn’t even sure he knew what he was referring to. It sounded like something entirely different, like a crush, but what kind of person treats their crushes like that?
Probably an overworked, pressured, overachieving culinary student with a dangerous need for validation. But she wasn’t about to tell him that.
“So yeah, I visited her restaurant, and… It just felt the exact same as back in New York, you know? Like she was rubbing it in my face again, and— and I know that sounds insane, or conceited, but I just can’t let it go. It’s like the thought of her is stuck to my brain like a stubborn piece of gum.” He wanted to smack himself for that stupid analogy, but what was said was said.
“So how’d you handle it?” Sydney’s head perked up, some of her braids now draping over her shoulders.
“Handle what?” Carmen became more and more uneasy the more he talked about you. Like his chest was tight, it was uncomfortable, but not in the way he was when the health inspection came by, it was different. Weirder. Unfamiliar. He didn’t like it, because he didn’t understand it.
“The talk with her.” She emptied the last bit of dust into the trash bag.
“Oh,” his mind took him back to the parking lot a month ago. The way he could almost taste the tears of your skin from how close he stood, he could hear the shakiness of your breath and the profound desperation in your voice when you apologized to him, when you really had no reason to.
If it was still so clear in his mind, then what must it be like for you?
“Carmen?” Sydney snapped him out of his oncoming train of thought.
“Yeah? Sorry, I— Uh, I don’t know it was…” He runs a hand through his hair, suddenly finding it in his best interest to look anywhere else but her face. “Bad. It was— It was bad.” He looks a bit shameful when he meets her eyes. “I fucked up. I like, went all New York boss on her. And then I just… Left.”
His colleague just stares at him for a moment. She knew what he was like when he snapped like that, but that was with his staff, people he liked. So how badly did he snap on you, a person he’d been resenting for years?
“I’m gonna go take out this trash, and uh… Head home.” She lifts the grey plastic bag she was holding. “But uh, Carm?”
“Yeah?”
“You got issues, man.” She has a bit of an awkward smile on her face, but he knows she means it. He knows she’s right. She usually is.
He nods, silently, letting her words sink in. He did have issues, everyone knew that, but most people didn’t just say it. That’s why he liked Sydney, she was so real, so honest. She was so good for the business, for the kitchen. And maybe her saying that to him was all part of grounding him in the reality of it all. Of his issues, just that they existed.
“Heard.” he says. His voice comes out raspier than he expected, like he’s struggling to say it.
“Goodnight, chef.”
“Night.”
He’d thought about what Sydney said the entire night. He does have issues, he knows that, he’s just mad at himself for letting everything get this far before seeking help. It scares him. Because it reminds him too much of Mikey. Or what he heard about him when things got bad.
He doesn’t want to make the same mistakes his brother did. Lock people out of his life just because it seems easier, because it’s better to minimize the damage than to figure out why you’re doing damage at all. And yes it’s uncomfortable, yes it’s scary, terrifying even. But he keeps being reminded of how it must feel for you.
It’s something he’d never considered before. He always thought he had you all figured out, all fake smiles and backhanded compliments to distract him. It never occurred to him to just… Ask. It was always just easier to assume. It fit his view of you and it kept him going, even if it was at the expense of ever getting to know you at all.
He’s hoping he can change that with a few text messages and a long, probably uncomfortable, talk over coffee. Just hoping, trying, that’s really all he can do. He’s well aware of how bad he is at communicating, but he has to give it a shot. For you, at least.
He stares at his phone screen for far longer than is necessary, continuously rereading the messages he’d typed. His eyes keep flicking to your contact, making sure he sent it to the right person. The only thing you two had texted about before was a time and place for him to try your new restaurant. His heart aches at the exclamation points and emojis you’d sent; you were so excited, and he drove all that excitement straight into the ground.
He closes his eyes and shuts off the phone. His chest hurts, like he’s been holding his breath the entire time. Maybe he has. You could have that effect on him, making it harder to breathe. He always wondered why he had such nervous reactions around you specifically. He always figured it had to do with your one sided rivalry, but it feels… Different. More complex.
Your eyes are finally peeled off your computer screen when numerous phone notifications alarm you. Truth be told, you’ve been trying your best to keep yourself occupied as much as possible. That usually helps when you get waves of emotions like this, keeping busy, distracting your mind from overthinking.
Ever since your last encounter with Carmen, you’ve been so on edge. Always trying to do something, anything, so you wouldn’t have to think about what happened, why he acted like that to you. Because you know if you did, you’d just start blaming yourself again, and you’d be back to square one.
Your eyebrows raise at the name of the contact. You were sure he’d blocked you, or at least deleted your number after last time. He was avoidant like that, and frankly, you weren’t sure if you wanted him to talk to you again after that anyways. Maybe it was just to drive the point home, make you feel even more worthless.
Still, you were curious. Even if it was just to cuss you out even more, at least you knew what to expect, right?
[carmen]: hey, I really want to talk to you about what happened last time.
[carmen]: well
[carmen]: I want to apologise
[carmen]: but I can’t do that like this
[carmen]: I’d much rather do it in person
[carmen]: if you’d let me
[carmen]: meet me at odette’s tomorrow around 10? coffee’s on me, I just want to talk
[carmen]: please
The last message was sent minutes later than the rest, while you were reading them. He was desperate for an answer, and though you wanted to hear him out, to talk to him, something in you felt off about the whole thing. Like he was just doing this to clear off his own guilt, only to then ditch you just like he ditched you after culinary school. Because you’re rivals, apparently. That’s what you do.
But then there’s something else in you too. The part that’s still nostalgic about New York with him. About the glances back and forth when you were timed on preparing certain things, about the way he’d stare at you when you got feedback, the ignorant bliss you lived in. When you still believed he might have liked you just a little.
That part of you takes the upper hand when you reply and take his offer. Your heart is in your throat, nerves overtaking you already and you weren’t even with him yet. He had that effect on you sometimes, making it harder to breathe.
You wondered what that meant.
Carmen sits alone at a booth, all the way at the back of the café he’d chosen. It’s rather quiet, as most Mondays are, yet at the same time, it’s so loud. Loud in the way he hears the clinking of every spoon against porcelain cups, the crinkling of a napkin and the not so subtle ticking of the clock above the entrance. 10:06. You were late.
Suddenly he's filled with more regret than he's ever felt before. He's not ready to see you again, only to be reminded of how he made you cry, and of his own tumultuous emotions and shortcomings that lead to this moment. It's surprising how fast the emotions he associates with you changed; he's not angry anymore, he's scared, guilty, nervous. He wants to see you so bad and yet he feels like you'd be better off never talking to him again.
It's too late to make a run for it when you finally walk through the door. Hair a little damp from the rain, just a bit disheveled from what he could only assume to be rushing over to the café. And that same angelic smile you offer to the barista that greets you, the same one you'd offer him every morning, whether he looked at you or not.
He had no choice but to look now.
Your smile falters into something more nervous, a little melancholic, when your eyes meet his across the café. Though you knew he was going to be there, something in you feels surprised to see him again. Maybe it’s because he isn’t yelling at you or throwing insults at your head this time. Or maybe because he’s actually looking you in the eye. Since when did he get so good at that?
You sit down across him, taking off your coat and putting your bag besides you.
“Hey.” You smile again, much more awkward this time.
“Hey.” He returns the same thin lipped smile.
It’s quiet for a few seconds. Carmen swears the whole café has gone silent in that moment, leaving the two of you to listen to the sound of your own breathing and heartrate picking up. You’re not sure where to look, not being used to being in such an intimate setting with him.
“Do you want a coffee?”
“Sorry I was late.”
You both talk over each other, and the urge to chuckle about it overtakes you. Carmen can’t help but smile as well. You seem nervous, and somehow that puts him a little more at ease. Like he’s not the only one who’s in their head about it.
“Sorry, I, uhm, yeah— I would like a coffee.” You scramble over your words. “Please.”
“Sure,” he nods, “and no worries.”
“Hm?”
“That you were late. I haven’t been here that long either.” He lied. He’d been there half an hour early, cursing himself for letting him sit along with his thoughts for that long and psyching himself out into almost leaving.
You both order and another heavy silence sits between you two. You both know why you’re there, what needs to be talked about. Yet neither of you know how to bring it up.
You’ve lived most of your lives believing this version of each other you had in your minds. Because it kept you grounded. Because it was easier. He never let you in and for the longest time, you were at peace with that. You could have a slightly distant view of who he was, your classmate, your rival. And he could do the same. Keep you out, pretend you were there to keep him on his toes, to always try to outdo him.
Those facades of each other don’t work anymore. The real world has forced you to reconcile with each other, whether you liked it or not.
Your coffee gets brought to your table, and both of you feel this urgency to say something, anything, at least.
“The pastries here are good too, if you want to get one.” He finally broke the awkward silence. He can start with talking about food, something he knows. If all else fails, resort back to that.
“I haven’t tried a pastry besides my own in a long time. Maybe I could learn a thing or two here.” You admit. He knows that feeling. He’s not nearly as adventurous with his food choices as he wants to be, but as a busy chef on the brink of a new entrepreneurship, it’s usually beef sandwiches and frozen meals.
“I think yours were better though.” He takes a sip of his coffee.
“Huh?” You look up, realizing you were avoiding eye contact by staring into your cup.
“The danish I tried at your place. It was fire.”
“Oh. Right. Thank you, we make everything from scratch.”
“I could tell.” He takes another sip. “I guess I— I kinda forgot to tell you that. In the heat of it all.” He huffs to himself. “Food was so good it made me upset.”
“Upset?” His word use frustrates you. Upset is when they forget to give you your sauce with your order. What happened back there was not upset. That was rage. Wrath. You raise an eyebrow and he realizes he said something wrong.
“Well, more than upset. Listen, I— We need to talk about what happened.” His blue eyes peer into your own. They’re almost distracting enough to avoid you noticing his fidgeting hands.
“I’m listening.” You lean back slightly in your seat. You’d played nice with Carmen all your life, given him every chance to return it. Now it was his turn to try.
"Right." Of course he has to talk. It's his fault, isn't it? He's the one who snapped-- why did he even imply you'd have to explain yourself? He runs a hand through his hair, and there he goes again, eyes darting across the café to find something to focus on as he sought out the right words. You'd almost find it endearing, how bad he is at this, if it wasn't so important to you.
"You don't do this often, do you?"
"What, like-- meeting up for coffee?"
"Talking about stuff. Your feelings and shit." You hid your slightly amused smile behind your coffee cup before taking a small sip.
"Oh. Yeah, no, I-- I don't. Not until recently." He takes a deep breath. Just like they had told him to. “I’ve been going to this therapy thing my sister recommended. S’not much, but… It’s a start. Talked about the restaurant, my brother—“
“Your brother?” Your eyebrows raise slightly.
“Yeah, my— my brother. Mikey.” He looks a bit surprised. He’s come to the shattering realization that he’s never told you anything about his personal life, ever. You don’t even know about one of the most important people in his life, his main drive. You’ve known each other for so long yet you know so little. “I never told you about him?”
“You never told me anything.” You answer curtly. “We never really… Talked, you know?”
“Yeah— yeah, you’re right. I just thought… Wow.” He smiles, more out of shock than anything. He feels so stupid. How immature is it to be feuding this much with a person who doesn’t know anything about you?
“I guess I really don’t know much about you either.” His fingers rake through his messy curls again. “Makes me feel like even more of an idiot for going off on you like that. Like I had you all figured out.”
“Yeah, that was uh... That was something." The mood shifts a little. His smile fades as soon as he sees the melancholy in your eyes return. Of course it wouldn't be that easy for you to forgive him, to feel better about all this. "You know, I never knew you thought of me like that." A small smile graces your features. Somehow it's sadder than the expression you had before.
"I mean, I knew you didn't like me. I was pretty much at peace with the fact that you were never going to like me, either. But I never thought you hated me that much." You sniffle, trying your hardest to blink away any oncoming tears. "Like your life, your entire career, would have been easier without me there at all."
His heart aches at the sight of you, all teary eyed and trying to be brave. You're much braver than him. Sadness is a much harder thing to express than anger. He's starting to figure that out more and more.
"I don't hate you." He starts. He sees the confusion contort your features, and he knows he's not making any sense. "I mean I did-- I did hate you. Or, maybe not you, just... The fucked up idea I had of you. And-- and that was on me, that was my own fault." He feels an urge to touch you; to rub your back, hold your hand, anything to comfort you. It's tearing him apart to know that he's the cause of all this.
"But why?" A single tear rolls down your cheek, leaving a wet streak on your skin in its wake. "Why did you think that about me? I-- I get that we had a little rivalry going but jesus Carmen, did you really think I spent my whole culinary school career trying to outdo you?"
"To be honest... Yeah." He feels ashamed. So ashamed. He hopes the waitress doesn't walk by and listen to any of this, see you crying, and make you feel even worse. "Cooking was always just... My thing. If I was good for anything, it would be that. So seeing you do so well at something I'd started to base my whole existence around, it made me jealous, so fucking jealous." He meets your eyes, even if it's hard. You have to know he's being sincere.
"And it's-- it's unfair, it's so unfair to you, I know, and I'm really fuckin' sorry. I'm trying to work on myself, on everything, and I hope I can prove that to you." His face has that red tint you recognize whenever he's nervous or stressed. You can tell this is taking a lot from him.
"Is that really all? You were just jealous?" Your voice is quieter, fragile almost.
"I don't know. I wanna think it's that simple but I really don't know. There's a lot I don't understand about me, or you, or us. My mind doesn't know how to react when I see you anymore I think, now that things are different." He takes a deep breath, like saying that took a physical toll on him. "You have this-- this weird effect on me, and I don't know how to cope with it. I think it was just easier to be mad at you than to be anything else."
Anger is easier to express than sadness. The easiest out of all emotions, actually. Sometimes a little too easy.
You look to the side, wiping your cheek with the back of your hand. You huff out something close to a laugh, and though he’s caught off guard by it, he doesn’t mind it. Even if you’re laughing at him, at least that means you’re not crying.
“You’ve got issues Berzatto. You know that?”
“Yeah. I’ve been told.” He smiles, and it’s heartfelt this time. Not nervous, or sad, or awkward. He’s happy to see you a little more at ease.
“It’s just really crazy to me.” You trace your finger over the edge of your coffee cup as you talk. “I spent so much time in culinary school looking up to you. And then I find out you were always just trying to keep up with me.”
Carmen’s eyebrows raise a little at your words. “Looked up to me?”
“Yeah, like… Your drive, your passion, it’s so impressive. Always looking to improve, to do better, it just— it inspired me to do better too. As cheesy as that may sound.” You smiled. “S’why I opened up in Chicago, you know.”
“Really? Huh.” He leaned back in his seat.
“Because I wanted to work with you. Or for you. Either would have been fine with me.” You sigh. “I like owning my own place, but… I don’t know, for some reason I always imagined us working together.” You smiled. “Is that stupid?”
“No,” he replied quickly, “no not at all, I— I totally get that.” He’s quiet for a few seconds, and you can practically hear the gears turning in his head when he stares at you for a moment.
“I mean you’re a remarkable chef, really, like— insanely remarkable, and, well, we’re revamping the restaurant completely right now. We need people— more people, new people, and so, I was wondering— or I’ve been thinking—“ He stops himself from losing his breath from all his rambling, before he freaks you out even more than he already has.
“I want you to come work for us at the Bear.” He puts his hands together, as if he’s about to beg. “Please.”
You can almost hear yourself blinking out of confusion. There’s suddenly no more loud silences, no, the café seems dead quiet for once. All you can do is stare at him, wait for a laugh, because clearly this was a joke right? There’s no way Carmen Berzatto, chef supreme, arch nemesis of yours, would want you anywhere near him, let alone work in his own establishment.
“I’m sorry?”
He feels stupid already. You had every reason to say no. He’d been the biggest asshole in the world to you, he’d kept his distance all his life, and now he expects you to be his employee. Or, well, colleague, more so.
“I’m uh— we’re redoing the restaurant entirely. New equipment, new staff, new everything.” He swallows; the thought of everything that needed to be done arises for a moment. “We need people that work hard, who know what they’re doing and who are passionate about it. And I barely know anyone who’s better at what you do than yourself.” He pauses, waiting for you to stop him. But you don’t.
“So I’m asking if you’d work for me. With me. It won’t be anything like old days, if anything I— I need to learn from you.” He scoffs at himself. “Could take a thing or two about how to communicate with my staff.”
You smile, and he genuinely thinks you’re about to start laughing at him. You chuckle, but it’s not mean, it’s honest. Cute.
“You know, you have great timing.” You grin.
“I do?” the smile on his face reflects the hope he feels.
“One of my chefs wants to take over the place for me. Well, has been wanting to. I haven’t had an exact reason to say yes to her yet.” You shrugged. “Guess I do now.”
“…Is that you saying yes?”
“It’s definitely not me saying no.” Your eyes meet his, and there’s something between you both that’s different now. It’s not like there’s a switch that’s been flipped. It‘s more like this conversation was the turning page of a new chapter.
“I’ll think about it. I want to see it first. Maybe talk to some of your staff.” Carmen’s chest strains a little when he thinks about you interacting with Richie. Then he’s reassured when he thinks about you interacting with Sydney or Marcus. You’d fit in well, you have great feeling for people.
“Yeah— yeah, I get that. Totally. I can arrange that. Uhm, we’re renovating right now, actually, it’s all really kinda wild, but if you wanna stop by, chat with Syd, or Nat, or talk about the plans, let me know. I’m sure they’d love to talk to you.” He’s not lying, you seem like you’d get along well with them. Especially Sydney. Your thinking processes are very similar to each other. And to his.
Carmen gets the bill, even though you try to pay for it.
“It’s just a coffee, just let me get this one.”
You let him have this one, simply because you can’t argue with him after the conversation you just had. You’re in too good of a mood after his proposition too.
He walks you to your car, hands in his pockets when you reach it. It’s cold outside, and his breath comes out in visible puffs of air. His nose is a little red, but you think it looks cute.
“Thanks for coming, by the way,” he starts, “I know you didn’t have to. Like— after how I acted to you. But— But I really do appreciate that you’re givin' me a chance here.” He’d always been confused about how positive and faithful you were in people. He never thought he’d be grateful for those exact features too.
“No worries, I… I had a good time. I’m glad we talked.” The keys jingle as you fidget with them. Among them is a keychain in the shape of a cherry, he recognizes it. It reminds him of how little you’ve both changed. And how much.
“Yeah.” He sighs. Relieved, almost. “Me too. But I’ll let you leave, might wanna tell your chef the good news.”
“Good news?” You quirk an eyebrow.
“That you’re selling them the business.”
“I haven’t decided yet, Carm.” You scoff. But he can tell you have, you look too excited about it all to not have your mind made up yet. It excites him too. Scares him a bit as well, but what’s a new chapter without a bit of tension?
“Right. Sorry.” He huffs. “Just text me when you wanna head over to see the place. It’s uh… It’s a work in progress, but it’s getting somewhere.”
“I believe you. I’m looking forward to it.” You lean back against your car a little.
“Yeah. Me too.”
“See y’around?” You unlock it and walk up to the driver’s side.
“Course. Uh, don’t be a stranger.”
You grin, leaning down to get into the vehicle. “Never with you, Berzatto.”
He watches you drive off, standing in the cold for far longer than any sensible person has any business standing there. But he feels good. He feels warm.
He thinks about what you said to him before you left. You were right, you were never a stranger to him. You were always like a constant in his life; whether you were actually present or not. And even if he didn’t know that much about you, which he was insistent on changing, you were never a stranger.
Never with him.
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Torn III
Kewis x Child!Reader
Summary: You're still sick
Mommy doesn't get you dressed properly the next day.
She lets you stay in your pyjamas because you're sick. She's sick too but not as sick as you.
Mom, of course, still has her hurt knee but she's the only one not sick in the entire house.
Your head pounds and your nose remains stuffy even as you play with your dinosaur toys, making them attack each other because they're in a war and that's what things do in a war. They fight.
"Open," Mommy says and you firmly clamp your teeth together," Chook, I'm not joking. Open."
She's got a syringe full of medicine in her hands and you refuse to open your mouth.
You've never had good tasting medicine before and you refuse to believe that Mommy's gone out and bought some.
You keep your mouth shut.
"Chook," She says sternly," This will make you feel better."
You sniff, wiping your nose on your shirt and shake your head. You know if you talk, Mommy's going to dose you up so you settle on just glaring, puffing out your cheeks to show her that you're wise to her tricks.
"Chook," She says again," We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Either way, you're taking your medicine."
"Chook," Mom says from the sofa," Come here."
Warily, you skirt around Mommy and run over to Mom, who lifts you up to sit next to her. Immediately, she attacks your sides with tickles and you can't keep your mouth closed anymore, opening it to let out peals of giggles.
Mommy squirts the medicine down your throat and Mom's ticklish hands disappear.
You glare, eyebrows drawing together in outrage. "That was mean!" You say," You cheated!"
Mommy laughs, ruffling your hair. "It was sneaky," She says," Not cheating. You'll feel better soon."
You huff but know she's right, shuffling off the sofa to return to your toys.
Helen joins you, curling up next to your side. Her ear flicks a few times as you continue your dino war. You have to blow your nose a few times because it gets clogged but Mommy is right because the churning of your stomach settles and your head no longer feels like it does when you bang it on a wall by accident.
"What do you want to watch?" Sam asks, channel surfing as she keeps one eye on you playing with Helen.
Kristie sighs. She doesn't look as bad as you did but it's still clear she's sick. She's got a bit of a fever and the end of her nose is all red. "Something that requires me to not think," She groans, massaging her temples to stem off the headache. She's only recently taken her own painkillers so she has a bit of wait until they kick in.
"So trash reality tv?" Sam teases and Kristie whacks her with a pillow.
You're playing nicely on the rug with Helen and your dinosaurs despite how ill you are.
Maybe eating all that dirt gave you a stronger immune system than Kristie thought.
"There's Love Island," Sam offers and you whip your head around.
"No!" You say," That's mine and Auntie Millie's show! You can't watch it! It'll spoil it!"
You sound adamant and Kristie manages to get out a laugh that could have been a cough.
"It's not a new episode, Chook," Sam assures you with her own laugh," It's last season. It's not going to spoil anything."
Your brow furrows for a moment before you're up on your feet. You've got two dinosaurs clutched in your hands as you wiggle yourself between your mothers.
They're sitting close enough that their legs are touching so you make sure to force them apart so you can be comfortable.
"Last season was okay," You tell Kristie very seriously," I will watch with you so you know what's going to happen. Mom, you need to put on Love Island."
Sam keeps laughing. "Oh? I need to, do I Chook?"
"Yes. That's what I just said. You need to, Mom."
With the other options being Deal or No Deal and Flog It, Sam's pretty sure that Love Island was truly her only option and changes the channel.
Clearly, the medicine has perked you up a bit because Kristie doesn't get a moment of respite the entire episode as you narrate what's going on during every single little moment.
Somehow, you manage to put yourself to sleep during it until you're lying draped over Sam and Kristie's laps.
"And we just let Millie watch this show with her?" Kristie asks, dumbstruck and Sam chuckles nervously.
"I didn't think she actually absorbed this much of it," Sam replies," It's like she studied it or something."
You shift a little in your sleep, death gripping your plastic dinosaurs so hard that Kristie can't pry them from your hands.
"Well," Kristie says," At least she's taking her nap without arguing."
"You mean, at least you can take your nap without her interrupting," Sam teases and Kristie rolls her eyes.
She lifts your limp body easily into her arms as she stands up. "Well, just for that. I don't think you can join us for naptime."
"Hey...Kristie! Kristie, wait! I'm sorry! Wait for me!"
Kristie doesn't wait for Sam though as she makes her way to their bedroom.
She settles you in the very middle of the bed but slipping in next to you.
You wiggle a little bit as Kristie tugs you closer, laying a protective hand over your belly just as Sam hobbles in, taking her own place in bed on your other side.
Helen joins in too, leaping up onto the bed and curling herself up around your feet.
"You have to get her to take medicine when we wake up," Kristie says, already half asleep.
"No fair! She's wise to my tricks now!"
"Not my problem, Sam."
#woso x reader#kewis x reader#kristie mewis x reader#kristie mewis#sam kerr x reader#sam kerr#woso community#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso
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