#god himself would tell me to be brave & cut scenes but that’s shit i have to do in my novel & i hate it so i’m not. doing that

[daisychainsandbowties]

mm probably (definitely) going to have to split this chapter of star wars au in half because it’s hit 40k and it’s not quite finished with me & i feel like… 40k is an obnoxious chapter length and it’s a nightmare to format and i have a neat stopping point so yeah will probably edit it today & post it tomorrow & then just finish slotting together part two so yay this is not interesting but it is happening so i figured psa or something feel free to ignore me

[letmeinnnnn]

Eddie Munson

“Why are people so connected to this character?”

I was roped into watching Stranger Things season 4 after never taking the time to even watch season 3 because I happened to see some pictures of this guy, this new cast member in Stranger Things- I’m immediately drawn in by the 80s metalhead aesthetic because it is right up my alley and happens to be “a look” (tm) that I adore.

So I cave and watch the first episode, Eddie’s introduced and immediately I’m like, this guy has a lot of energy and then-- oh god he’s really climbing onto the table and making a scene. People shout “loser”/jock-boy calls him a freak and then Eddie takes the insult, folds it into a crown and wears the hell out of it.

I am immediately struck by the CONFIDENCE. This guy does not give a FUCK. He’s loud, kind of obnoxious, and very weird-- and I LOVE IT. He then goes around and is able to make all of his friends smile and laugh; his charisma commands the entire cafeteria scene.

He’s a roughly 20-21 year-old in high school; he’s failed senior year twice, but he’s somehow radiating coolness and it’s clear how everyone in the “nerds and freaks” group looks up to him. 

That level of self confidence and zero fucks given attitude is so admirable in my eyes; he never stops being himself. I can only wish I could be like that, and I think a lot of people feel the same, which is why Eddie comes off being so cool and likable. It’s only the tip of the iceberg really, but I felt like sharing my first reaction. 

So you’re still kind of on the fence about Eddie at this point-- Cut to the next scene with Eddie and Chrissy in the woods. Even though Eddie and Chrissy operate in very different “high school worlds”, he’s so nice to her. He goes out of his way to make her feel comfortable and smile because he can tell she’s going through some shit and is out of her comfort zone. It is such a sweet scene! Any reservations about him being a total asshole are pretty much out the window at this point

I think we were ROBBED of more Eddie/Steve interactions. I really wanted more of those two conversing.

There’s something to be said about how they’re both c.20 years old, both only appear to have friends younger than them, and both are stuck in a “deadbeat” situation- Eddie being the guy who failed senior year twice and Steve being the guy who couldn’t get into college and works at the ice cream/video rental store.(I’ll also point out that despite failing twice, Eddie is still trying to graduate, he hasn’t given up, another endearing quality)

Eddie lives in a trailer park, sells drugs, and we find out lives with his uncle (we can only theorize why), but these facts paint a particular picture.

Traditional society looks down on people in their circumstances, so-called “losers”; no future-- But, uh, guess what? High school reputation doesn’t amount to shit, lots of people don’t go to college, and working a “common/unskilled” job doesn’t dictate a person’s worth. Eddie and Steve are badasses who’ve faced and fought greater horrors than nearly the entire of the population in their universe- they chose to be brave and fight and protect the people they care about (and even those they don’t really care about). I’ll also point out that Eddie is clearly very passionate about metal and playing guitar, as demonstrated by his SICK skills, and you know he didn’t learn that in school.

((While not canon or explicitly stated- Eddie also comes off as ADHD coded with his level of energy and nature, which obviously would play a role in maybe making it harder for him to focus on things like school and studying (another relatable quality for many people) especially if he already has a hard time with those things. Like I said above, the fact that Eddie is still trying to graduate despite it all makes me think more on this- that he isn’t just lazy or something, though that could very well be a large part of it haha))

There’s also the interesting juxtaposition of Eddie and Steve’s respective high school reputations and how much/little they cared about it. They’re different, but they also have a lot in common and I’m glad Dustin was able to bridge the gap between them. There is also much to be said about Eddie acting as such a great friend and role model for Dustin as well. The love in their friendship is so heart-warming; how can you not smile when watching them? How can you not want to be friends with this guy?

I just wish we could have seen more, UGH.

[delicrieux]

☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 "𝚘𝚑"

PART 8: CAT BOYS 

... it’s late into the night and y/n is streaming with one of her new friends, sykkuno. running on caffeine and redbull is apparently not enough because she falls asleep on his shoulder 45 minutes into their cyberpunk gameplay. at that exact moment, twitter goes up in flames.

─── corpse husband x reader, sykkuno x reader (because i was threatened by thirsty anons) ─── soc. media + written fiction!  ─── word count: 1.8k author’s note: here it is...what yall been asking for. literally had to add a new part for this but i loved this idea sm i couldnt just nOT NOT do it. i tried writing this with the same energy as the smau lmao so expect chaos as always. hope you enjoy it and as always lmk what u think! hopefully yall wont go too feral, but tbh thats prolly too much to ask for xx EDIT: srr for the fucky format tumbler dot com is being lame 

ultimate masterlist.  ҉  myso masterlist   ҉   previous.   ҉   next.

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Such a back and forth continues for the better part of the day as you get ready. Corpse only whines a bit when you forget to text him back - you are packing, and your prestigious cat ears you bought from Amazon for 10$ deserve exquisite care - which only fuels your seemingly bottomless hunger for mischief, leading to you sneakily ignoring him more. When your phone lights up with a message, you giggle, giddy with excitement. Your laughter only gets louder and more erratic, to the point where Rae had busted down your door and threw her Hello Kitty plush at you - one you’d gotten her, mind you! - and told you to just “Shut the fuck up!”

Ungrateful. You know not everyone can appreciate your sense of humor, or stand your hyena like cackle, but that was uncalled for and you told her as much. Noting the mess your room is in (more than usual, that’s for certain), she leans onto the door frame, crossing her arms over her chest, pretty brown eyes twinkling curiously, “Where you off to?”

“So I had this idea-” You start, but are promptly shut down with a raise of her palm.

“Already know it’s a bad one.”

Insulted, and hurt, you clutch your heart. As if she had not mocked you enough today, “Rae...The hell, that’s so mean...” You mutter, face scrunching into a soft frown, “I only wanted to tell you what me and Syk thought of.”

“Oh?” Intrigued, she raises a brow, “Continue.”

“Gee, thanks for letting me this time.” You mumble, rolling your eyes, “So. We thought we’d stream together. The catch? In the same room! We’ll be playing Cyberpunk. Gotta cash in while the hype is still up.” You add, making her snort, “And, ya know, the whole cat boy business...We’ll be wearing matching cat ears. Admit it, I’m a genius.”

She’s quiet for a moment, mulling over your words; you can practically see the gears in her head turning. She glances around the room, then briefly at you, strangely apprehensive. “You sure that’s a good idea?”

Well, that is definitely not what you expected her to say. You figured it’d be more along the lines of you’d be one ugly cat. “Huh?” Is all you manage to stutter, “What do you mean?”

She gives you a look, one all people give when something is so plainly obvious, “Y/n. You do know the stans will go wild, right? And you do remember our conversation involving Corp-”

“Nope!” You exclaim cheerily with a bright smile to match. You don’t want to think about that. The relationship between you and Corpse is strictly platonic, and besides, seeing Twitter loosing their shit is always funny, and you never miss an opportunity to mess with your fans. Sykkuno is also a good friend, albeit a new one. This supposed flirting from Corpse’s end Rae deduced was nothing more than her projecting her feelings onto the situation. She always liked shoujo anime and was probably thinking one was happening right in front of her. Not a chance. Corpse was just being a friendly crackhead. Your energies mesh beautifully.

Like, beautifully in a strictly friend way. Absolutely nothing more than that.

She gives up, naturally, arguing with a wall would be more productive than arguing with you. You’re such a (Zodiac sign).

“Well,” She mumbles, ticking her head to the side, leaning off of the door frame and turning to leave, “Don’t say I didn’t tell you so.”

Your grin melts as soon as she leaves. Glancing at your bag, you shove your last necessities in with newfound hesitance. 

Nothing bad will happen, right?

...Right?

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It is well past the generally set “appropriate” time to hang out, but since quarantine, what is appropriate anymore anyway? You’ve never been in Sykkuno’s apartment, but now that you’re here it’s...strangely him. Every corner seems tailored to his specific requirements. It’s cozy, and pleasantly warm - it’s a bit chilly in LA, as surprising as that is.

He’s even shyer than you remember him being. And a whole lot more awkward, but in an endearing way, a way that makes you want to laugh and try to reassure him that it’s just you and he has nothing to worry about. While you hung out only once, the history you share is rich and tender. From him following you on Twitter and subsequently prematurely ending your stream, to kidnapping a stray cat affectionately named Juan. His long lost brother, Juan (no the Second, just Juan), lives in your Minecraft server. 

His stream room is sadly bare. There’s an appalling lack of merch or fairy lights. Not even led-lights. It’s a good thing you brought your own. As you try to decided which color would be best - his signature lime green, reminiscent of his adorable Among Us astronaut, or, perhaps, mischievous violet? - he boots the game and tweets out a quick “streaming with y/n in ten mins! come one come all!” 

“You should probably tell your fans, too.” He mumbles, looking somewhere above your shoulder. You settle with cherry blossom pink. Glancing at him, you shrug.

“Ah, do it for me, please?”

“Oh!” He hiccups, “Uhm, I wouldn’t want to pry and I don’t know your password and-”

“It doesn’t have a password.” You had removed it, knowing something like this would happen. Bless your foresight, you did not want him to know it was demonspiitinmymouth. Before he could protest further, you rush to the nearest mirror to put on your cat ears and make sure they aren’t crooked. You look absolutely adorable. The cat boys in your dms will go feral. Hell, you might just go feral looking at yourself! Sykkuno is not ready. No one is. This will be a stream to remember.

When you return (with flourish of course), he’s anxiously fidgeting by his computer, his own little cat ears, one’s he wore for the Halloween stream, peaking out from his silky brown hair. You have to suppress a squeal. When he catches you gaze he gives the kindest, sweetest little smile.

“They, uh--” He points at you, then decides it’s rude to point, bringing his hand back to his lap, then clutching his mouse, lastly releasing a sound stuck between a chuckle and a wheeze, “suit you, uhm, a lot!” He finishes with a resolute nod, quickly spinning in his chair and away from you.

This is the reaction you desired. All is going according to plan. Is this what God feels like? If not, then you pity her. She’s missing out.

Taking a seat next to him - he had been gracious enough to haul you a spare chair from the kitchen - you draw closer, and he, instinctively, shrinks away with another nervous chuckle. 

“You have, uhm... I-I didn’t look!” He quickly chimes. You raise a brow, “Uhm, unopened messages? From Corpse? He texted you when I was tweeting! I didn’t mean to look, I’m sorry-”

Instantly, you recall the famous vine with the scandalous “daddy chill” line, though refrain from saying it aloud. You love havoc, but you’re not evil (Rae would ardently disagree with you, though). Instead, you just shrug, “’S fine, don’t worry. I’ll text him back later. Let’s start?”

He nods, but doesn’t look at you. Granted, you don’t think he glanced at you even once since you returned, “...Okay. Ready?”

“Ready!”

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You’re much too immersed into the game and Sykkuno’s twitch chat to even check what’s happening on Twitter, but your estimated guess is that everyone’s going crazy. The stream chat is unruly as well, but missing the signature Twitter spark. Most of the chaos is bravely lead by your fans. Sykkuno’s, much like the man himself, are too nice to scream so unabashedly.

Perhaps you excitement had been a bit too taxing, perhaps drinking 5 coffees and 2 energy drinks today and not enough water are to blame for the sudden drowsiness you’re feeling, but you can’t focus on the swimming chat or the abundance of cut-scenes at the starting point of the game. You steadily draw nearer and he, more composed in front of his audience, doesn’t react. About ten more minutes of hoovering by his shoulder and muttering soft commentary, and you feel yourself slipping.

The last coherent thought you have is a few choice words directed at caffeine itself for having the opposite effect of you at the worst time possible.

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You float in oblivion for perhaps ten minutes at best. Once you awake with a startle, you shower Sykkuno in shy apologies and he quickly reassures you that it’s fine and that he didn’t mind at all!

“Though,” He adds after a thoughtful pause, “not sure if it was very, uh, comfortable?”

His stream chat spams uwu and variations of similar kind. The stream continues for a few more hours before the both of you wish everyone a good night. 

While you planned on wreaking absolute havoc, this sudden falling asleep was unexpected. You pondered the consequences of such an innocent, unplanned act whilst ubering home, fearing to check your phone which by now was blowing up with not only Twitter notifications but also Rae’s angry messages that vaguely read “what the fuck y/n”. Within the past two hours she had left 57 messages on all platforms collectively, including 7 calls. 

Corpse’s last text was over three hours ago.

Now that’s strange. Worry festers quickly. Briefly glancing at your surroundings - the pretty glimmer of passing street lights, neon signs, familiar buildings - you decide that it’s time to check what kind of nuclear explosion you’ve caused.

Your heart drops to the bottom of your stomach as you scroll past the hundreds of tweets and mentions. Scan through Rae’s messages. 

You had failed to prepare ahead. Every explosion of such kind is followed by nuclear winter. And Corpse’s lack of messages feels especially cold.

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Not you smiling like a fucking idiot reading his last message! You shrink into the backseat, afraid the driver will accidentally look into the rear-view mirror and see you a bit too happy before asking questions. Good news? Yeah, but it’s not like it’s his any beeswax! In the words of Rihanna, just shut up and drive. 

This argument had not yet happened, but you’re preparing, just in case. 

As you think up of potential scenarios, your eyes drill into Corpse’s goodnight text. You’ve looked at it enough. Time to turn the phone screen off. Leave the app, at the very least. When the screen dims you instantly press on it to wake it up. This is embarrassing. Maybe the deadly amount of caffeine really did mess you up, big time. Your heart races in your chest, painfully almost. You feel a bit sick. Worst of all, you can’t stop smiling.

A notification from Rae makes you snap out of it. Ah, one more demon to deal with. 

However, before you talk to her, you really need to tell Twitter that you’re not with Sykkuno. And apologize to Sykkuno as well. 

At least Corpse doesn’t hate you.

Fucking hell, just exit the chat you idiot!

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tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @slashersdream - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai - @truly-dionysus - @multi-fandom-central707

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

[nothing-but-dreamy]

HAUNTED

Pairing: D:BH!CONNOR x HUMAN!READER (gender neutral)

Words: 4.058

Warnings: TRIGGER WARNING! mention of suicide; odd behavior; cursing; hurt - comfort;

A/N: Another day - another request...

I really hope you like it! Thanks again for your idea.

Synopsis: You are a Detective of the DPD and had worked many cases with Hank. Until something went utterly wrong. Since then, you get haunted by your past until you see only one last way out. Luckily, Connor is there to help you.

"You know you don't have to do this.", you said serious.

Sara pulled the wire of the bug underneath her shirt before it got taped on her back, "Yes, but I want to. I have to. I owe it to my sister to do this. She shall find peace finally and like the Lieutenant said, me as her twin, I have the best chance to get this bastard. He doesn't know that she's dead. Therefore, I'm your best chance to get the information you need, Detective."

"Detective..."

"Detective."

"Detective, YLN!"

As if awakening from a deep trance like state, you focused back on reality as your name got called out. Haunted by your typical dark memories, you hadn't even noticed where you were. Slowly, you opened your eyes. The owner of the calm male voice stood on the outside of your car, next to the window of the driver seat, and looked concerned at you through the glass.

You blinked several times. The sun, which already fell through your windshield because it stood so high in the morning sky, made you blind for several moments and as you moved, you noticed your aching back and neck from sleeping in the car in an unhealthy position. Obviously, you had knocked yourself out with booze again.

"Detective YLN, my name's Connor. I'm your new partner. I'm the android sent by CyberLi- I got sent from Captain Fowler to meet you. Rather, he sent me to find you because you missed a meeting this morning. And now, he wants to see you.", Connor said and watched you. Even if he had already learned a lot about human behavior from Hank, there were still some mysteries to solve.

Like: why are you sleeping in a car in a position that harms eighty percent of your muscle tissue through soreness and lets your bones and joints burn like fire when you move?

Or: why are you drunk this early in the morning-

"Hey, tin can! Shut the fuck up!", you shouted.

Connor stared at you in shock as he realized that he had asked the questions out loud instead of just thinking about them. A habit he started with as Hank had left the DPD to retire finally, "I'm sorry, Detective. I haven't notice-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah... what do you want, Carlos?", you asked, searching for your flask you couldn't find.

"My name's Connor, Detective. And as I said, Captain Fowl-"

"Oh, yeah... the meeting... right. Get in the car.", you ordered and even if Connor was sure that it wasn't a good idea for you to drive in the state you were, he also knew that any kind of discussion would lead to nowhere. He still knew that from his time with Hank.

**

Twenty minutes later, for a way that only took ten minutes usually, you, followed by Connor, entered the DPD which was crowded with androids, policemen and people who were complaining about some uninteresting nonsense. You made your way through all these people, trying to dodge as many colleagues as you could - but of course, one of them caught you. Like always.

"Hey, YN! This is the DPD and not some bar. You won't find any kind of booze around here."

"Just shut the fuck up, Reed! Or otherwise, I will tell everyone that you own some pair of bright pink panties- oh, upsi! My bad!", you called out, gleaming at him with a smirk. Everyone started to laugh.

Gavin stared at you with a hate-filled glance, he was fuming, "Fuck you!", he muttered.

"Oh, sweet. That's all you got, Reed?", you shot back with a grin.

But before Gavin could respond to anything, Captain Fowler stepped out of his office, "Detective YLN! In my office!"

"And? Who's laughing now?", Gavin said with a smirk and winked at you before he left the DPD to do some work.

Connor closed the door of the office behind him as you were inside. You walked over to the Captain's desk to sit down in one of the chairs but even without looking up you sensed the anger radiating from your boss. It was tangible in the air. Without asking, you took one of the fresh glasses on Fowler's desk to throw an aspirin into it. Then, you pulled out the flask you had found finally to fill the glass with a transparent liquid.

Fowler watched you, half shocked and half concerned, "What are you doing?"

"Taking an aspirin, Sir. I have a murderous headache."

"And what was in the flask if I may ask?"

"Vo- uhm... water. Just water, Sir.", you answered before you gulped down the bubbling mixture.

Fowler looked from you at Connor who also seemed to be concerned about the fact that you had mixed pharmaceuticals with alcohol before the Captain looked back at you, "Where have you been this morning? We had a meeting."

You put the empty glass back on the desk, "Oh, yeah... the meeting. I'm sorry, Sir. I was on observation and obviously, I lost track of time.", you explained, leaning back in the chair, waiting for the aspirin and ‘water’ to do its magic.

"Observation, huh? For what case? What's the file number?", Fowler asked, leaning back in his own seat, folding his hands in front of him while waiting for your answer.

"Oh, yeah... the file number. One moment, Sir-"

Fowler slammed his plane hand on the desk's surface that you were jumping in your seat, "Cut this shit, god dammit! You have no file number because you have no current case, Detective! Let me guess, Connor had found you sleeping in your car, right? How many nights had it been this time?"

You kept eye contact but you gave him no answer. You just gritted your teeth and pressed your jaws together.

Fowler sighed, "Listen, YN, you're a great Detective but since the things with Sara happened-"

"No!", you called out, jumping from your chair and stopping the Captain mid-sentence with your sudden outburst, "We won't talk about this!", you said serious before you turned around to let your glance roam through the office with all the busy people, "Alright, Sir. What's the matter with the android? Monitoring what I do and what I don't do?"

"Connor is the former partner of Hank-"

"Oh and now, Hank doesn't want to play with it anymore so you give it to the next screwed up cop you can find?", you asked, turning around to look at Connor with his fancy clothes and neat hairstyle before you looked back at the Captain.

"Hank retired two weeks ago. I thought you knew that.", Fowler said and looked even more concerned at you.

"No, I'm sorry. I didn't get invited to any funny parties nor did I got a notification. But who cares. So, the android's with me then? How long?", you asked emotionlessly.

"It's your partner now. Brief it into your cases-"

You stepped forward, aiming for the door, "Cases, Sir? What cases? You already said I have none.", you pointed out while leaving the office.

Fowler watched after you, not amused about your unpredictable behavior and the fact that you were carrying a gun.

"Sir?", Connor asked and brought the Captain back from his thoughts.

"Yeah... Listen... as you can see YN has a few problems. They used to be a good cop in the past until one of the cases they and Hank had operated went wrong. The anniversary is in two days and I fear... well...", Captain Fowler stopped himself, watching you grabbing a coffee from the kitchen.

"I will keep an eye on them.", Connor said and left the office as well.

*

Connor was surprised how carelessly you were in managing your cases - even if it were just a few. There was nothing special or difficult and yet, you weren't able to file the cases properly, "Detective, this report here, I'm not sure to which case it belongs.", Connor asked as he had read an interview of a woman who had reported her dog as missing. Added to that, the interview was part of a file about an armed theft in the heart of the city. There was no connection at all to these two cases.

Without looking up, you took a folder from your desk to hand it over to Connor, "Yeah...here. That's the case you're searching for."

Connor took the case and skimmed through the pages several times before he looked at you, frowning, "Detective, this is a file about a stolen android.", he pointed out.

"Yeah, just ... put the page in this file. I'm sure it will be right.", you said, ignoring the android's expression.

"Detective, I'm not sure-"

"Excuse me, I need some more coffee.", you cut him off, standing up to aim for the kitchen with your mug in your hands.

"And I thought Hank was challenging.", Connor whispered under his breath and shook his head while he still tried to figure out which pages were parts of which cases.

"You're a murderer, Detective! That you still think yourself as worthy enough to call yourself a cop is way out of my understanding!", a jarring, female voice echoed through the office and drew the attention of everyone to her and to the person that stood in front of her - you.

Connor craned his head to watch the scene like everyone else did. But while the attention of the others was because of curiosity and spitefulness, Connor watched you and your bodily reaction to the woman's accusations. You stood there like a timid fawn. The cockiness you presented before seemed to be gone completely. Your heart rate increased, you were shaking and your eyes became big as if you were intimidated by the woman in front of you. The woman stepped even closer and Connor watched, surprised, that you stayed where you were. Easily, you could have escaped the unknown woman and yet you stayed rooted to the spot.

"Because of you I lost both of my daughters! I already have lost the one and yet, you thought it would be fair to take the other away from me as well!", the woman screamed erratic, tears were already running down her cheeks but she was still not able to stop herself and no one else was brave enough to step into the scene, "You and your partner will pay for what you have done! You will burn in hell for that!"

"Chris! Escort Mrs. Mason into my office!", Captain Fowler ordered and stopped the woman's outburst even if it was a bit too late.

Connor saw tears building in the corners of your eyes. Quickly, your glance scanned the area but the only way you could find was the way out. You aimed for the precinct's main entrance to leave the building in a hurry. Connor followed you. He ran through the office and left the building as well but as he stepped onto the pavement you were nowhere to be seen. Like a ghost, you had vanished between all the other pedestrians.

**

Hank had just taken a new beer to watch the next half of the Detroit Gears game as someone rang his doorbell. In the penetrant way how this person used his doorbell and the way how Sumo reacted, Hank knew who the visitor was, "Connor, hey. What are you doing here? It's a bit too early to go for a walk with Sumo.", the older man said but he already saw that something else was bothering the android.

"Yeah, actually, I'm not here because of Sumo.", Connor said.

Hank let him in and Connor came straight to the point that kept him busy, "One year ago, you and Detective YLN had a case together. But something went wrong. What exactly happened? I couldn't find the case file."

Hank frowned, "Why do you ask?"

"Captain Fowler teamed me up with Detective YLN because of the anniversary of this case. He's concerned about the instability of their constitution."

Hank shook his head. He missed working with the android but he didn't miss the long-winded explanations of him. Then, suddenly, he became serious again, "Instability, huh?"

"Yes. They seem to be so unpredictable in their behavior that Captain Fowler fears something worse will happen because the anniversary would be in two days. I ... I found them this morning sleeping in their car.", Connor explained with a frown.

Hank raised his brows in surprise and at the same time, he felt worried, "YN and I, we... In the past, we worked together on some cases. Well, that changed with our last case. Lynn and Sara Mason.", he said slowly, feeling the pain stinging his heart as he remembered what had happened one year ago.

"Why couldn't I find much about it in the archives of the DPD?"

Hank stood up from the couch, walking over to the book shelf to pull something out that was hidden between his several jazz vinyl. He walked back to Connor, offering the android the case file but stopped as Connor was grabbing for it, "You just can find the basics of this case because I kept it printed. Some wounds are so deep, it's better if not everyone is able to find a tool to reopen them all over again.", he said and gave Connor the file finally.

***

The next day, Connor drove again to your place and was happy to see that you weren't sleeping in your car again. As he knocked at your door, you opened him with a smile. You had taken a shower, your hair was still damp and your clothes were all fresh and clean. Connor noticed that you weren't accompanied by the scent of alcohol and he even couldn't smell anything in your breath as you talked with him.

"I... I want to apologize, Connor. Our start yesterday wasn't the best. I'm looking forward to working with you. I'm sure we will make a great team."

Connor knew you just one day, not enough to understand a person completely, and yet he had the strange feeling of something going on that occupied his mind suddenly by the way you acted.

"Oh, can you call a taxi?", you asked while sipping on your coffee.

"What happened to your car, Detective?", Connor asked surprised while ordering the vehicle.

You smiled at him, "Oh, I sold it. I will have no use of it anymore. And please, call me YN."

To Connor's surprise, your behavior stayed kinda strange even if he couldn't say what it was exactly. You and Connor went early to the DPD. On your way in, you talked with colleagues. You joked with Chris and as Gavin entered the kitchen, you pressed a cup of coffee into the Detective's hand which left him utterly confused.

Gavin stopped Connor by stepping into his way, "Hey, tin can. Is this coffee drugged or what is going on here?"

In the way Gavin looked at Connor, the android noticed real unease, "No, Detective. The coffee is not drugged or anything. I guess others would call it 'tasty'. You can drink it.", he said but looked frowning at you. As Connor left Gavin, the green-eyed man was still sniffing suspiciously on the hot liquid as if the mug might contain acid instead of his most favorite beverage.

Connor went back to the desk opposite of yours and was surprised to see how you cleared out the different pages of the case files. Several small piles were lying in front of you while you tried to bring them into the right order and to collate them.

Later that day, Connor was puzzled as you went to the Captain to apologize to him as well as you had done it with Connor in the beginning of the day. You apologized for your behavior the day before and of all the past weeks, "I know I did a few things wrong, Captain. But I promise to change that in the future. In fact, the change will happen soon and then, everyone will be pleased with me again.", you said before you took your jacket to leave the precinct.

Connor looked at the Captain and saw on the man's face what he was thinking: strange.

‘Strange’ was the only word Connor could find to describe your work day even although you were acting practically perfect. You were nice. You had sorted your cases. You had apologized for your behavior. And yet, something was odd. Something felt wrong. Connor sensed that something was ... going on. But he couldn't put his finger on it. So, out of instinct, Connor followed you and drove to your place with a taxi.

As he knocked at your door, you opened, smiling at him and dressed in a bathrobe, "Oh, Connor, hey. What is it? I just wanted to take a bath."

Surprised, Connor looked at you. He was sure you had taken a shower this morning so there was no need to take a bath and then, he reminded himself that he still had not much knowledge about humans and their several oddities, "Yeah, I ... I just wanted to ask if everything is alright, Detective.", he said honestly.

You smiled at him, "Of course, Connor. Everything is more than alright. I just need some time to relax and tomorrow, everything will make sense to you and the others. Thanks for checking on me, that means a lot to me. Goodnight.", you said and closed the door.

Connor stared at your closed door for several moments before he stepped slowly back to walk down the hallway. Since he turned deviant, Connor's systems needed a bit longer to process information - not much, it were just seconds, but sometimes that could be more than enough.

As Connor was still connecting the different dots and hints you had spread the whole day, Hank called him, "Connor! Where are you?"

"I'm leaving YN's place. They want to take a bath. Why? What's the matter?", Connor asked as he sensed the slightly concerned undertone in Hank's voice.

"You have to go back, Connor! Go back to them! YN hates to bath!", Hank demanded worried.

Even if Connor was confused, he turned around, walking back the way to your apartment, "Hank?"

"I just got a letter from YN. It got brought by a delivery man. It's a handwritten suicide letter. Hurry and stop them!", Hank ordered.

Connor ended the call, hurried down the corridor and without knocking, he broke down the door of your apartment. Quickly, Connor ran through your small apartment, already seeing the door of your bathroom ajar. He stormed into the room and the second his eyes landed on you lying in the bathtub with the razor blade between your fingers, he was by your side, taking the blade away to throw it into a far corner before you could even cut. Slowly but demanding, Connor dragged you out of the water, took a towel and laid it around your shaking frame because you already were ice cold. Obviously, you had filled the bathtub with cold water to support a fast sleep while your blood would have drained from your body after the cut.

You were screaming and yelling for Connor to let go of you. You demanded the razor back and that he should leave your apartment but Connor ignored everything. You punched against his chest with your fists but Connor stayed unimpressed, determined to save your life. With a strong grip, he wrapped you into the towel and also laid the bathrobe around your shoulders before he guided you out of the bathroom. You were still struggling in Connor's arms to get free. All you wanted was to end what you had started. Desperate, hot tears were running down your cheeks as you were crying violently about the fact that you were still alive. Alive and alone with the memories which were still haunting you like mean demons.

Connor placed you on the couch, sitting next to you and wrapping his arms around your frame to give you even more support and comfort while you cried against his chest, "Please, just let me die...", you cried out between two heavy sobs.

"No, Detective. I have to refuse your request."

"Cut this 'Detective' shit. Just call me YN, god damnit.", you whimpered helplessly because now, everything was just worse than you had expected. You had planned everything and yet, the android was there to destroy your neatly made plans, "What are you even doing here, Connor?"

"Hank received your letter and called me right on time."

You leant closer against Connor's chest with closed eyes, seeking the android’s presence while cursing about yourself, "Hell, the letter. I should have changed the delivery time to a later one. Then, everything would be over. All the pain. All the guilt. All the haunting.", you breathed with a sad voice.

Connor tightened the embrace around you even more, "It's about Sara Mason and her sister, isn't it?", he whispered softly, placing his chin on top of your head to enclose you even more.

You nodded, not surprised that Connor already knew it, "Yeah... it's my fault that Sara died. It's my fault that her mother lost both daughters.", you cried out, clawing into Connor's white shirt with your fingers.

"Well, I read the file. Sara came up with the idea to get bugged and to infiltrate the drug dealer who had killed her sister Lynn. I mean, the idea was good. It was just bad luck that the dealer already knew about Lynn's death and looked right through the façade you and Hank had planned.", Connor said softly. To calm you even more, he stroked soothingly over your back with his hands.

You leant back to look into the android's face and for the first time, you noticed the incredibly intense, brown color of his soft eyes, "Y-you don't understand. Not even Hank knew that but Sara didn't come up with the idea to get bugged on her own. I dropped this idea as I was alone with her and manipulated her to think it was her own idea. I mean, how evil can someone be to do this, huh?", you asked, closing your eyes about this painful memory.

Connor cupped your face, knowing that humans needed physical contact to feel secure and safe and he wanted to provide you both as well as he could. He was glad to see that you opened your eyes again and that you stayed where you were, "Listen, neither you nor Hank nor someone else could have known every single possibility in this case. The idea was good. The Captain said the same in his official statement. But ... Look, kid, sometimes bad things happen, and you can't do anything about it.", he said softly.

Through a sob of new tears because Connor was the first for a very long time that was caring about you this much, you chuckled low, "Have you... did you just quote the Lion King to cheer me up?"

Connor looked slightly caught with a sheepishly smile playing around his lips, "Yeah... Hank said I should improve my knowledge about pop culture. I binge watched all the Disney movies I could find last week. I thought this quote was suitable... Or did I have done it wrong?"

You chuckled a bit more about his innocence and strong will to help you, "No, it was pretty good. Thanks for... you know... thanks for being here with me.", you whispered low, feeling your cheeks reddening.

Connor leant back on your couch, bringing you close to his chest so you could snuggle against him, "I'm your partner now, YN. And partners are looking out for each other. You can count on me no matter what it is.", he said softly and after five minutes where he just stroked comforting over your back, he noticed your even breathing that told him that you had fallen asleep. Hank called and without making too much noise, Connor briefed his former partner that you were alright.

You were still alive. You still had a long way to go to leave your haunting ghosts behind but Connor was sure you would make it. You were strong enough to do it - and he would be by your side to support you as promised.

[damiano-mylove]

Condescending Bitch

Pairing: Thomas Raggi x reader

Wc: 2.5k

Cw(s): swearing, kissing, crying, probably typos (as per usual, tell me if it sucks)

Summary: Reader breaks up with their boyfriend and Thomas consoles them.

Masterlist

If honesty be a virtue, you'd be virtuous to plainly say you'd fallen out of love with your boyfriend and you had done so a while ago. It wasn't deliberate, it was a gradual fizz wherein you found your heart warming for someone else. You felt horrible about it and that guilt had been eating at you. There was no cheating, but you didn't think you'd be able to avoid it for much longer. Not to mention, it wasn't only the non-existent feelings, Luca was just an asshole when you weren't blinded by love.

There comes a time where one must throw in the towel, and now was that time for you.

You couldn't do it at a restaurant; knowing Luca, he'd cause a scene. You couldn't do it at some meeting place; it would ruin that place forever and ever to both of you. And that shit's just not fair.

In the end, you couldn't make the decision. So you put every single item of Luca's clothing in a bag (and a couple things he'd left around your flat), and drove over to his house while you still had the nerve. You'd gathered and lost the nerve a couple times before, but the plan was already in motion now. Hell, there was no plan, but whatever you were raring to do was up and running.

You drove straight to Luca's mother's house in record time. Time flies when you're laser focused.

"Y/n!" Luca's mother exclaimed joyfully as you entered the kind looking house. How someone like Luca came out of Mrs. Batali was a wonder in and of itself. Once Mrs. Batali spotted the bag in your hand, she frowned. "Has something happened, Bambino?"

Somehow, the hardest part of this breakup would be bidding goodbye to Luca's mother, and not Luca himself. You sighed, "I'm sorry, Signora. Luca and I have been having issues for a while now."

"Oh, don't be sorry, Bambino." The older lady's kind smile returned to her face, which struck a heart string you hadn't even known existed. Mrs. Batali swayed toward you, in all of her vanilla scented goodness. She hugged you around your neck loosely, which you returned around her wide hips. "You're always welcome for dinner and a roof. Don't let the stupid boy stop you from seeing me."

God gave two gifts to this world; one of them was Mrs. Batali.

A smile cracked across your face as your chest continued to tighten and hurt. You loved this family like your own, and you loved Luca at some point. So many memories were made in the throws of this relationship, and it was all going to be thrown out the window by you. But it was too late now.

"Ti amo." Mrs. Batali placed a kiss to your forehead which made your smile even more genuine. She patted your shoulder, finally releasing you from her motherly grasp. Sadly, she raised her arm to the stairs to Luca's bedroom. "I'll be down here, if you need me."

You smiled once more to the older lady and bowed your head in silent thanks. If you uttered a word, the word would lead to tears. It seemed the two of you knew this.

It was the last thing you wanted to do right now, but you had to seal the deal.

Without your consent, your feet began moving toward the stairs then up the stairs. Your heart beat in sickening rhythm with your footsteps, but your heart seemed more heavy than your feet. It was ridiculous. You were ready to throw up, pee, or meltdown - you didn't know which one, if it was one at all.

At long last, after walking down the longest hallway of your life, you stood in front of Luca's closed door. You remembered all the times you'd breeze in, going straight into Luca's arms for a kiss. His breath wasn't always good and he was a bad kisser, but he made you feel infatuation. Now it only seemed a fraction of what you felt for the other person. Yes, God, that was why you had to do this.

You knocked. Your heart was deafening.

"Come in!"

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You pushed open the door, feeling like you were having a heart attack. Luca smiled brightly at you from the light of his computer. Then he laid eyes on the bag. Don't know how, it was dark as fuck in the room. And smelt of cheap body spray and dirty clothes.

"Hey, Babe, I wasn't expecting you," Luca smiled, trying to act off the bag of his clothes and gifts in your hand. You flicked on the light as he stood up to close the door behind you.

This room is fucking disgusting. It was truly noxious.

"Alright, Luca, sit down, we've got to talk," you told him, putting on your bravest and thickest voice. It worked because the air in the room changed. The air grew thick and impossible to breath. It could've been cut with a knife. Luca sat on his bed, hands in his lap. You placed the bag on the ground and sighed, "We're breaking up."

For a second, he was unresponsive. Luca didn't say a word until he looked you in the eye, what felt like a full minute later. His bottom lip quivered. "You're dumping me?"

"You can tell people you dumped me, I don't mind," you quipped, trying to make the situation better. You did not, in fact, make the situation better. You potentially made it about thirteen times worse.

"No, you're not." Luca stood up again. Your breath caught in your throat. "We're not breaking up."

He took a few quick steps to you. You stood your ground, trying to be as brave as possible. Your mask was slipping. The last thing you wanted right now was for Luca to see that you were cracking under his gaze. That would be fucking horrendous.

All of a sudden, Luca barked out a laugh. He looked like a madman. "This is about that Thomas bitch, isn't it?" You didn't answer, and your facial expressions gave nothing away. Then Luca snapped, "Isn't it?!"

"If you want to fucking shout, we can shout," you seethed. Luca blinked angrily at you. "We're adults - act like it."

"You're a condescending bitch."

"And you're an ugly prick, but I've never complained about that. You've called me a condescending bitch about 3 times and a flat-out bitch more than a dozen," you recalled quickly, with venom dripping off each syllable. It shut Luca up. However, he began to cry. You felt nothing but hatred now. "You're one pathetic bitch to be crying over the girl who you treat like a fucking doormat." Luca only cried harder. No sympathy. You spun on your heel and opened the door.

Without a glance back, you left.

Mrs. Batali smiled at you on your way out and gave you a freshly baked bun, which you thanked her profusely for.

It didn't take long for reality to set in, however. The adrenaline faded as you drove back to your flat complex. You began crying at the wheel and completely broke down in the car park. Tears streamed down your face like rivers, snot clogged your nose. Your mouth tasted horrible so you started to eat the bun Mrs. Batali had baked. It was so good that you started crying harder.

How the fuck could you do that? At this point, you were too sad to give a fuck about sobbing in a car park at 6 in the evening. You just threw in the towel of a year long relationship, in the blink of an eye. Like it was nothing and meant nothing to you whatsoever, which wasn't true at all. You felt like a horrible person.

Your chest clogged up with emotions and stale air, your throat grew a lump that you couldn't swallow down. Now you were the pathetic one. Crying in a shitbox car over your ex while eating fucking bread.

A tap on the window scared the Jesus out of you.

When you looked at the source, the other person was looking right back at you, looking worried and confused. Leave it to Thomas to look sad just because you were sad. Thomas looked so fucking good even though a blur of teary eyelashes. He made the hand crank motion, so you rolled down your window.

"Are you okay?" Thomas asked. You just started laughing. What a stupid fucking question. Thomas began chuckling, realizing how stupid it was himself. "Fair enough. Fancy a cup of tea and a chat or shall I leave you to your car bread?"

How the fuck could he make you laugh in times like these?

You smiled then shooed him away from your car door so you could open it. He obliged and moved back, for you to get out, still with bread and keys in hand. Thomas furrowed his eyebrows as you two began walking back to the flat complex you both lived in. "Aren't you going to roll up the window?"

"How the fuck is anyone meant to steal it when all the windows are up?" It was your turn to earn a laugh from Thomas. Thomas' laugh hit your ear like honey. The sort of honey that your mother gave you to cure your sore throat before nursery. It was soothing and just the right thing for the situation.

As you walked up the stairs with Thomas, you realized he was taking you to his flat. To be fair, he was the one who offered you tea. What's he going to do? Offer you your own tea?

Thomas unlocked the ugly blue door of his flat that everyone in the building had a copy of. The second you both walked into the flat, warmth enveloped you, along with sandalwood and spices from Thomas' extensive spice cabinet. He must have been cooking earlier because it smelt Heavenly. Everything was in perfect place with just the right amount of mess and disorganization to make it seem like a home.

"I'll put the kettle on, sit anywhere," Thomas instructed after you both took your shoes off. You were wearing ratty trainers while Thomas was wearing perfectly clean Vans.

You nodded and flung yourself on one of his couches with a sigh. The couch was soft, warm and welcoming and you felt tired from crying and yelling and just the day in general. It was a shit day, that started with your toast burning and ended with this shit. A nap would really do good.

However, Thomas had other plans entirely. He placed a purple mug, full of tea with what looked like your golden ratio of milk and sugar. Thomas was your best friend, of course he knew your golden ration. You knew his. With a smile, you sat up which allowed Thomas to sit beside you and drape his arm over the back of the couch.

"Feel like telling me why you were crying in your car?" Thomas asked. You laughed lightly and sipped the piping hot tea.

"Broke up with Luca about-" you checked a clock. "-30 minutes ago."

As horrible as it sounds, Thomas' face lit up. His facial features remained the same but his beautiful green eyes lit up like candles in a dark room. "Is that so?"

"He called me a condescending bitch."

"So he hasn't gotten a new script," Thomas smiled. You chuckled lightly and sniffed. Your nose was still clogged from all the crying. You just didn't feel like blowing your nose like an elephant in front of Thomas right now. "He'll never get the chance to get a new script for you now."

"Thank God above," you sighed out with a laugh to your words. Thomas smiled. "I'll miss his mum though. Wonderful lady."

Thomas sipped his own tea and you discretely moved closer to him. It wasn't as discrete as you'd thought because Thomas picked up and moved a bit closer to you with a stupid smile on his face. "So how'd it go down?"

Like friends do, you told him everything, down to the detail. All but Luca being right, with Thomas being the other man who'd stolen your heart. That wouldn't be a key detail here because the last thing you needed today was to dump your boyfriend then directly after scare your best friend away from you forever.

But he wasn't scared off by you telling him Luca though you were leaving him for Thomas. Thomas actually smirked at that part, like the thought amused him. You didn't think anything of it actually, except for how cute Thomas was when he was smirking.

Eventually, the conversation faded and you were hip to hip with Thomas. With a sigh, he rested your head in the crook of Thomas' neck. His feather soft hair tickled the side of your face but you wanted nothing else for the moment. The scent of Thomas' cologne was prominent when you were this close to him, but you weren't going to complain about that. His arm fell from the back of the couch to around your shoulders.

Feeling Thomas' head turn to you, you looked up at him. Thomas' hand lightly squeezed you arm. Your breath hitched in your throat as you thought you were imagining Thomas observing your face.

Those gorgeous green eyes that you could stare into all day were scanning your face gently. They landed on your lush lips, then back to your eyes. All it took was a small nod for Thomas to lean in.

It was slow. It was slow, but undeniably sweet. The passion was palpable the minute your lips met his, just as you had been dreaming of for months now. His pillow-like lips were perfectly moisturized, but not over-saturated. The lip balm he used was strawberry flavoured and you'd never admired strawberry flavoured lip balm as you were in this moment.

As suddenly as it began, it ended.

Thomas leaned back for a second, looking guilty. "You need time to get over Luca, this is wrong."

"I've been over Luca for months." You placed a kiss to his lips, which Thomas accepted for a second, then backed out of again. You groaned. "Thomas, Luca was right. I'm in love with you."

In a stunned silence, Thomas' cheeks turned bright red. A broad smile grew on his face and you felt confident in your confession. You meant it, surely, but now you were confident that you did the right thing in telling Thomas.

"I've been in love with you since we went to the Capitoline." Thomas' voice cracked as he made his confession. Your heart bustled with warmth. He'd been pining for you all this time just to watch you run with Luca.

You couldn't take your aching heart. Grabbing Thomas' face gently, you pressed your lips to his again. He gladly returned this kiss with fervour and renewed zeal. Nothing else mattered while your lips were joined with Thomas' lips. Nothing would ever be able to induce the utter happiness and peace you'd felt in this moment.

After the kiss lasting for a while, Thomas pulled you to sit on his lap. He cupped your sweet face gently and smiled into your brilliant eyes. He kissed your nose. "May I tell you something else, Y/n?"

"Anything."

"I don't think you're a condescending bitch."

[acacia-luna-royal]

So, I’ve had this written in my phone notes almost all week since Sunday as well as not being able to go into the internet because either my cat or my sister’s cat was fucking around on the cabinet and broke our freaking WiFi box so it stopped working, so someone had to come out and fix it but that took a while, and as it was almost the end of the month, my phone bill wasn’t topped up because I didn’t have enough money in my bank, so I couldn’t even use my data 😭 but MY GOD!! You guys have been busy! I’ve missed so much of tumblr and damn have I missed you guys! *cries in a corner* Anyway, here is just a few things I want to say about episode 12 and the feels this episode got me feeling.

*Deep fucking breath* Yep, NAILED IT!

Yo, episode 12... where the fuck do I start? It started off with cavity level sweetness... ended with all the salt in the sea and lemons plus limes squeezed into every single cut you can think of, like when you use hand sanitiser on a paper cut fuck that shit hurts! This episode was a fucking whirlwind of emotions and I was hit with so many feelings way too fast and way too hard.

Right off the bat, we get this first scene with Porsche dropping Porschay off at the university for his interview. We have our sweet baby Porschay, although he’s heartbroken, he tries his absolute best to stay strong for his big brother, who smiles at him with pride and proudness that just melts your heart. And then Porschay decided to throw his resume into the bin, trying to rid that part of his life that had Kim involved, as all the time Porschay and Kim spent together was a façade, a foundation - in Porschay’s eyes - built and revolving around lies. But there’s also guilt there because Porschay worked hard to get into that university. He worked hard for both himself and for Porsche; his big brother, who has been working so damn hard to make sure Porschay is able to go to school and is able to study at the university of his dreams.

Porschay struck by culpability because Porsche - working so damn hard to make Porschay’s dream a reality - said that seeing his little brother get into that university was his own dream. Porsche smiles so beautifully and so brightly at Porschay, happiness to the MAX at seeing his brother take the first step to getting his degree. And even though Porschay has had his heart broken by someone he is still in love with, he’s hurting but seeing how happy Porsche is and how proud his big brother is of him, Porschay tries his absolute best to stay strong and keep a brave face for Porsche and it broke my heart. No literally, I was a whimpering mess, this part wrecked me. This scene, man, the impact of feels I had within the first two minutes was unreal. I thought my heart would burst at my chest, and the episode had only just started, like fuck, I was wondering how the hell I was going to manage the rest of the episode. (And I also happen to be INCREDIBLY protective of the Kittisawasd brothers. Looking at you Theerapanykuls, though not Tankhun, he’s a king in every way and I’ll always love him, he can do no wrong.)

Porsche finding out that the guy who was in charge of the goons beating up his debt collecting uncle was actually working with Kinn at the beginning and was also responsible for helping Kinn get Porsche to work for him. Yes, Kinn was following orders from his father, but keeping it from Porsche all this time, that was the wrong move. My jaw literally dropped during this scene, I almost caught flies. I was in shock. If I were Porsche in this situation, I would have yelled, I would have maybe slapped Kinn, I would have probably walked away and refused to talk to him until I calmed down.

Porsche here was so collected, even when you could tell that he was livid, he was also in disbelief. He didn’t submit to Kinn’s attempt to hold him, he refused to let Kinn touch him until he got the answers he so rightfully deserved. And when Kinn made another move to step closer followed by an “I’m sorry,” Porsche told him to back off. Porsche wasn’t going to give in without an explanation to the lies and the cause to him feeling like a fool for not having known or seen this sooner. He was lied to. He was betrayed. And the one person who he knows doesn’t trust easily because of being betrayed in the past, was supposed to be different and not be a liar too. He gave Kinn all of him and more, and Porsche believed that Kinn had given him that in return, but it turns out it was splintered. Yes, Porsche knows that there’s deep intense truth to Kinn’s feelings towards him, but if there’s lies in the beginning that haven’t been addressed yet and have been playing out all this time, even while they’ve been together as an official couple, then of course Porsche is going to be hesitant to fall straight back into Kinn’s arms and to take in his apologies. And this isn’t just about a lie being told to Porsche, it’s the involvement of Porsche’s house - the last thing that Porsche has from his late parents; a house, a home, he and his little brother treasures. Porsche said to Kinn that Kinn knows how much that house means to him, and Kinn still didn’t tell him that he had been affiliated with the guy who threatened to take his family home away from him and his little brother. So, he’s rightfully pissed off.

It’s only with the heartfelt promise from Kinn; a promise that Kinn will find all the answers that Porsche is looking for, a promise that Porsche is able to believe by looking and reading the honesty in Kinn’s eyes, (because Kinn and Porsche have created a state of communication that literally just involves them locking eyes and this communication is damn strong, we’ve all noticed it), that Porsche eventually lets Kinn move closer to touch him, to wrap his arms around him, to hold him. Porsche doesn’t reciprocate the hold though, and Kinn understands why he doesn’t.

Kinn stands alongside Porsche as they confront Papa Korn together; as partners, as lovers, as a couple who trust each other. They stand side by side with Porsche slightly in front, but Kinn lets Porsche do the talking. He only asks a question out of shock to his father’s words when Papa Korn explains that he covered up the murder of Porsche’s parents and that the driver happened to be Papa Korn’s friend. They find out a lot more from Papa Korn than they bargained for when they stomped their way over to where Papa Korn was working with his clay. Porsche wanted answers about why he was actually chosen to work for the main Theerapanyakul family, but gained the reason as to who killed his parents alongside the reason of him being chosen to work for them as a way of Papa Korn paying his respects to him. Porsche having had enough of the bullshit and the “sorry”s, closes his eyes, tames the fire wanting to explode inside of him, and then tells Papa Korn (way too politely in my opinion) that he’s thankful for the help, but he doesn’t need it and then storms off. Man, did I wish Porsche had done more. I used to like Papa Korn but he just keeps proving to be more of a dick (but he’s still way better than Kan ironically). Kinn is also furious. He’s furious because he was also lied to by his own father, but he’s also infuriated that his father is one of the main the reasons why his love is so distressed and betrayed and heartbroken, when Porsche had just found out about the secret that Kinn had kept from him, which Kinn is feeling guilty from as now both Kinn and Korn are to be blame, but mainly Korn.

Consensual VegasPete!!!

WAS KINN AND PORSCHE’S FIRST TIME THIS DAMN INTENSE!! I CAN’T REMEMBER MY MIND’S GONE BLANK!! The fact that it was Pete who pulled Vegas back to pull him into a kiss... Vegas’ surprise and his hand hovering, not knowing what do to or how to respond for a second before he fell straight into it and reciprocated just as passionately; Vegas becoming so happily overwhelmed with the way Pete was kissing him and handling him just... 😫*Chef’s Kiss* For me, It was when Vegas walked past Pete after saying: “But a guy like you, it’s no fun when you don’t give in,” and then Pete just turns him around, grabs his face and kisses him, giving off “Bitch, I’m gonna show you the best type of fun you’ve ever had in your entire fucking life” vibes and OMG!! Believe me when I tell you that I choked mid scream! That was fucking amazing!!

Honestly, give Bible and Build all the oscars, all the Grammys, all the awards! This scene was so damn mind-blowing! I think the condoms in this show also have their own representation and sponsor just like the Maseratis, the inhaler and their majesty bread. Man, you VegasPete fans, my darlings, you were fed a gourmet buffet this episode holy shit! And what the hell is with Build and Apo having such gorgeous curves?!?! Why? How? I just... 😭 And the way Vegas kissed his way down Pete’s neck, then down his back to then more or less (I think I saw this right) kiss Pete’s buttcheeks just OMG AHDHAKNSDJS!! Those damn satisfied smiles afterwards between them as well... HOLY FUCK!!! Though, I would like to point out that the music that was used for this love scene is called “Stable Delusion”, and I don’t really know what to think of that fact.

Kinn leaving the main family manor and deciding that Porsche is far more important than his home, his job, his father, because Porsche is his home now and wherever Porsche goes, that’s where Kinn’s home will be. Kinn literally said that he can have the best kind of happiness in the world, as long as he has Porsche! I mean... LOOK AT THE WAY KINN LOOKS AT PORSCHE WHEN HE SAYS THAT... status of the heart: more or less healed, just gonna need six months of recovery and cardio therapy.

This scene was fucking beautiful in every way imaginable. Me thinking at first that Porsche not only left the Theerapanyakul manor and taking his brother with him, leaving Kinn there as well... I started whimpering, I honestly thought Porsche had left Kinn at the house because I didn’t think Kinn would be allowed to leave. But then Kinn, oh my fucking CHRIST, him walking out to the garden with a plate of glasses and the royal majesty bread, to bring out to Porsche and Porschay!!! I had butterflies in my brain, stomach, heart and soul, that was the purest fucking thing ever OMG!!! I will never get over this, I really won’t, not ever! Kinn saying that Porsche’s happiness means the world to him... my heart, just take it, it’s only giving me arrhythmia. Porschay looking between his brother and his brother’s boyfriend with that sweet knowing look and smile, literally the sibling look of “omg, you guys are so cute it’s gross but I’m so happy that you’re happy” and just... urgh, this scene was so freaking precious and beautiful I just can’t deal.

I always said to myself that if I see Porsche cry, like literally bawling, I’ll cry and my heart will break. Welp, I had that twice this fucking episode, holy shit I couldn’t breathe through my nose for hours! I don’t know how long I cried for, all I know is that I had to pause the episode to let it out because it really broke my heart. Apo, you just... you ruin me. I was so thankful for Kinn just holding Porsche, telling Porsche that his parents would be proud of him for not killing their murderer, Kinn telling Porsche that he’s proud of him too... *whimpers* take my heart please, it’s in fragments, but it might come in handy for something because it’s sitting useless in my chest.

Kim realising he fucked up BIG time. Finding out Porschay didn’t attend his interview stunned him, not knowing that he could have had that much of an effect on Porschay. Ya dingus.

The way Kim looks away from his friend and then clenches his jaw to then look down as the guilt seeps in. Realisation dawning on his features so hard, his breath becomes a little staggered like he can’t mutlitask the guilt enveloping him and breathing at the same time.

Our sweet baby Porschay... still heartbroken but wanting to try something new to get, at the very least, his mind off of the pain in his heart, decides to change his look by dyeing his hair (the same freaking colour I might add that the actor who plays Porschay’s brother dyed his for a photoshoot aakjdjaksjjdkss). Porschay, it looks great sweetie. And then decides to go out drinking with friends even though he’s never drunk alcohol in his life, yeah, no sweetie, don’t do that.

When Porschay has had a lot to drink and his friend says that they should go home, Porschay is ready to go with his friend when the guy on his other side tries to put a tablet in his mouth... 🤬🔪Oh man, I was freaking livid. But I didn’t really get the chance to stay livid for long because this next scene shocked me to the core and literally took my breath away:

Kim coming out of freaking nowhere and smacking the guy’s hand away from Porschay’s mouth and punching anyone who tried to stop him... man, I was in LOVE! That was so fucking attractive and so damn HOT! I started screaming into my pillow! And then when Kim put his finger in the guy’s face and said (more like he growled, or snarled) “Don’t!” The progress of me absofuckinglutely losing it just kept progressing.

Although this scene with Kim was so damn attractive, and YES! This isn’t Wik, the musician and University student. This is Kim Theerapanyakul, the third son, the youngest son, of a high class main mafia family, the person who picked up a gun for the first time in what was most likely ages just because the boy he’s fallen in love with was kidnapped, making Kim so determined to save him that he was ready to shoot the fuck out of everybody but Porsche, including his own cousin, just to save him. But the question that came into my head when I rewatched Kim coming into this scene was: How the hell did Kim know where Porschay was? He couldn’t have asked anyone because the only person Kim could ask would probably be Porsche but Porsche didn’t even know Porschay was dyeing his hair, let alone Porschay going to a club. And I doubt Kim would have been brave enough to actually ask Porsche, “Yo, do you know where your brother is?” Porsche would only have more questions to answer Kim’s questions with and Porsche would probably recognise Kim as Wik as there is no way Porsche didn’t see Porschay’s P’Wik shrine in his bedroom. And also, Kinn would have been with Porsche, so that conversation would have really fucking interesting to see. So, Kim must have put a tracker Porschay or something, because how else did he find him in that club?

When Kim gabbed Porschay’s hand, I was excited for a second before my mind went back to asking questions. Like, Kim, what the hell were you going to do after this? Were you going to take Porschay back to his house, with the possibility that Porsche, Porschay’s beautiful protective big brother, could be there with his boyfriend, who happens to be your own big brother? Nah, that doesn’t really sound like a good idea. Or were you planning on taking Porschay to your place? Would have to say I’m not a fan of this idea either as Porschay is still mad with you for breaking his heart (rightfully so) and I doubt Porschay would want to be at your place especially with what you said to him. For someone who thinks a lot, you really didn’t think this through, did you? It’s amazing how the Kittisawasd brothers can literally cause the youngest two Theerapanyakul brothers to lose their thought process and act before thinking it through. Kim you are so much like Kinn, it’s not even funny.

Kim! What are doing?! “From now on, you’re on your own,”... ASHDHKAHDJAJS KIM WHAT THE FUCK! Porschay is heartbroken ya dick, and you just made it worse! Kudos to you for bringing Porschay away from a potentially horrible situation but to then tell the boy that he more or less isn’t worth your time anymore. What the fuck? Man, when Porsche finds out you broke his baby brother’s heart, don’t think that just because Porsche is now dating Kinn, your older brother, that you’ll be safe because you freaking won’t be. You’re doomed. And if you don’t apologise to Porschay with flowers and a big teddy bear with an “I’m sorry, please forgive me” on it, and mean it, with a love song you’ve written just for him and play your guitar for him, then I’m coming for you because this baby’s heart... he’s been through enough in his life, don’t cause him more pain.

And may I regretfully present to you all the salt in the sea, the bitter sourness when you were expecting sweet. I had a shiver run down my spine when Ahrtee sat down next to Porsche, I was holding my comfort blanket tighter around me thinking “oh no, this is not going to end well” and I was right, it didn’t. All Ahrtee did was cause more trouble for Porsche, just like he has done for most of Porsche’s life. Let me tell you that gamblers: all they care about is themselves. They don’t care about their families, because if they did care, even the slightest amount, they wouldn’t cause them this many problems and this much pain.

When Ahrtee kept blowing smoke into Porsche’s face I was literally chanting “punch him, punch him, punch him.” And then Ahrtee had the auDacITy to call Porsche stupid! Bitch, you shut the fuck up! How dArE you! You’re the stupid one for causing so much debt and thinking that you could get away with it and thinking you were able to keep fooling your nephew. And then he asked Porsche for five million baht, “easy money” he said, that could make all of the lies and problems go away. Uh, no Ahrtee, the only easy thing about five million baht is the way you’d spend it. Don’t believe it Porsche, he’s a fucking liar and he will only cause you problems, trust me.

When Ahrtee gave Porsche that picture and we finally saw who was in it... my mind went blank and my jaw dropped. It took me a good minute to process what I had seen. And then I started tearing up because NO!! Porsche and Kinn has just started over, they’re on their clean slate and now Porsche isn’t going to know what to think, do or say. Will he tell Kinn about seeing his uncle? I don’t think he will. Will he tell Kinn about the photo? I don’t think so. All of these obstacles that these two have faced and will again have to face... it’s honestly painful and heartbreaking to watch these two go from being at the peak of their strength where the trust that they have in each other is formidable, to then watch it fracture apart because some lying, cheating, two-faced, problem causing low life has come onto the scene and arisen doubts between them. We’ve seen Kinn and Porsche finally, truthfully, adoringly become KinnPorsche and now we have this? My heart, mind and soul is not ready for what is to come and I just, I can’t deal with all the possible scenarios that keep running around in my mind, and every single one of them makes my heart speed up with anxiety and trepidation. I’m not ready, I don’t think anyone is, and the fact that we only have two episodes left TWO FREAKING EPISODES LEFT!!! AKHDJSJSKKFJAK!!! I’m going to be more of a mess than I already am 😭😭

[thnksfrthmmrs]

i watched the new episode of the owl house . i am not okay (spoilers under the cut)

-opening scene broke me just as much as it did at the end of season 2

-CAMILA SOBBING WHILE HOLIDING LUZ WAHHHH

-gus using magic to help with chores slay

-luz and hunter my traumatized babies :(

-“who knows if we will ever figure that out” luz ur such a bad liar

-camila just taking them all in and saying they’re safe 😭😭😭

-GUS FREAKING OUT OVER HUMAN STUFF AS WE DESERVE

-AMITY AND WILLOW BREAKING THE ALARM CLOCK LMAO PLS

-this intro is so cute that has to be noted

-i’m excited for willow’s photographer era i need her to be a vsco girl

-THEYRE PRACTICING SPANISH 🥺

-camila is a milf idc she has style

-making fun of duolingo pls

-“i never expected to be a mother of six”

-their new fits SLAYYYY

-amity being worried that “camila can’t take care of them forever” makes me so :(((

-they’re all besties they’re found family i’m crying

-luz’s main character moment in class is kinda making me giggle ngl why is she standing on a desk <- it’s because she’s traumatized

-camila wishing she could make them “demon food” wahhhh

-the deer that wasn’t a deer…

-hunter sewing and loving wolves and being happy and having a real smile and gus saying it’s good to see you happy and “one of us might as well be” and i’m gonna die

-“humans like spreading their junk everywhere” LMAO SO TRUE GUS

-gus’ nerd shrine <3

-the fact they basically added two beds to luz’s room for the girls 😭 wahhhh 😭

-camila dreaming about all the times she had to defend luz and the reality check camp…… :(

-mom why aren’t you mad at me” 🥺

-luz sleeping in camila’s bed and the bi “love” bracelet and also camila in pajamas makes her more of a milf idc

-okay once again their outfits slay

-hunter being a nerd with gus pls

-“hunter i don’t think the world is ready for the brave fashion choices of the year 2008” “DON’T listen to her”

-hunter’s blush when willow winks 😭

-HUNTER IS SOOO 🥺🥺🥺🥺

-aw the way they all cover their ears

-LMAO WILLOW SWEETIE THAT ISNT HUMAN MONEY

-i love how they hate giraffes so much

-vee has a crushhhhh… hehe

-masha’s pronouns on their name tag <333

-SLAY WILLOW WITH YOUR SCRAPBOOK

-the hooty and king masks i luv them

-luz and hunter why would you go down there ALONEEEEE

-let it all out hunter my special lil baby i love you :(

-AW IT WAS CAMILA’S NERD SHRINE LOL

-luz’s video diary is breaking my heart

-omg their costumes are so good wtf i wish i was that good at costumes 🙄✋🏼

-not that crazy middle aged asshole again

-BELOS WHY ARE YOU EVERYWHERE WBAT DO YOU MEAN HES PART OF THE HISTORY IN THIS TOWN

-the way masha definitely thinks this is a fake silly story and all the kids are ready to shit themselves bc none of it is fake

-hunter yelling at flapjack nooooo :(

-camila finding luz’s video diary

-OHHHH LUZ’S DAD LEFT HER GOOD WITCH AZURA 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

-okay luz slay that magic

-this isn’t hunter i can tell this isn’t hunter this isn’t him oh my god it’s belos it’s belos i can TELL

-FUCK FUCK FUCK THIS SCENE

-these poor kids :((((((

-HE HURT FLAPJACK WHAT THE FUCK BELOS

-hunter is coming out to fight omg omg omg

-CAMILA JUMPING IN AFTER HUNTER JESUS CHRIST IM LOSING MY SHIT RN

-SHE GOT BELOS OUT OF HIM BLESS

-flapjack sacrificed himself for hunter i’m cwying :(

-camila calling hunter baby :(

-OH MY GOD WHEN LUZ WAS ABOUT TO SAY SHE HAD TO STAY AND CAMILA JUMPED IN AND SAID “TAKE YOUR MAMA TO THE DEMON REALM” I LOVE HER WORLDS BEST MOM AND I MEAN THAT

-THEYRE GOING INTO THE PORTAL SCREAM

-willow: thanks for the memories

me: fall out boy reference 😩

-vee’s gonna cover for camila that’s so cute to me

-i literally wanna sob camila is the best parent ever i love this show so much im CRYING

[drawlfoy]

Wonders of Ohio P.10

masterlist request guidelines

pairing: draco x reader

request: no way 

summary: american high school senior y/n y/l/n is in for a surprise when her british exchange student is a little...odd. 

warnings (AYO please pay attention to these this time it’s not just swearing): swearing, underage drinking (no i do not condone this ig), beginning elements of smut but def not too explicit, i think you can consider it dubcon ?? if both people are drunk bc i don’t think you can actually consent if youre drunk (plz rest assured tho they are both 18 hehe)

a/n: “hey where did this come from” yeah so hey yall ive never written such an intense scene before but i’ve spent so much time w these characters that i decided i kind of had to. there’s no like...real sex in this and i don’t imagine that i’d describe it in this much detail if i ever decided to write it but um.. anyways. i hope y’all enjoy. thanks for suffering for this long ! i hope i’ve made it worth it 

word count: 4k

music recs: 

cloud 9 -- beach bunny

the adults are talking -- the strokes

anything from the strokes tbh 

tags ! :) @gruffle1 @missmulti @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @straightzoinked @imintoodeeptostop @naiomimoonshard @jejegu @ophelia-enthusiast @alwaysbeanunknownfan @nearly-memories @litty-dumb @callieclearwater @malfoy-wife15 @charlenasaxen @belladaises @fiantomartell @writeandtranslate @erisdogwood @loveissupernatural @sycathorn-slush @big-galaxy-chaos

“Thank fucking god for the generator,” said Y/N as she flew around the kitchen, banging pots and pans together in her quest to make New Year’s Eve breakfast. Draco was sitting, unamused and completely silent, at the table. They’d been snowed in for a few days now with her parents nowhere near able to make it to the suburbs. For some reason, the entire city of Cincinnati had decided that the day before Christmas was the best time to schedule maintenance on literally every single one of their plows. “Can you imagine living here without heat? Or power? I’d die.”

Draco hummed in response. A glance over confirmed that he was deep in thought, a scarlet colored letter clutched firmly in his hand (hello, Nathaniel Hawthorne). Jealousy curdled inside of her as her thoughts turned to a dark place--it was Pansy, that Pansy Parkinson. 

Knowing her intuition, she was probably his grandmother or something. Why else would she have written so many letters?

After she finished plating all of the pancakes, she allowed herself to sneak a peek at the envelope. 

Astoria Greengrass

She frowned. Astoria? She’d never seen that name before. 

“What is this?” asked Draco as he picked up his fork to poke at the pancake on his plate.

Y/N’s jaw dropped. “Have you never had a pancake before?”

“A pancake?” He gave his plate a stern look. “It looks...like a soggy pastry.”

“Fuck you, I made that,” responded Y/N. “Try it with butter and maple syrup. And then tell me it’s a soggy pastry.”

She took out her fork and knife, demonstrating very clearly what she meant as she spread butter over the top of her pancake. She’d learned that Draco was too proud to ask what she meant when she introduced him to American/muggle foods--the last time he tried to deduce something himself, he ended up pouring ketchup over the top of his hamburger bun instead of actually putting it on the patty. 

A sense of satisfaction flowed into her as she saw him follow suit, spreading the warmed butter and dipping a cut piece in syrup. He raised it to his lips, taking a delicate bite.

“Americans really have this for breakfast?”

“Yeah…is something wrong?”

“Nothing. It’s just…” He grimaced. “This isn’t breakfast. This is dessert food.”

“God, your life must be so sad back home,” said Y/N. “What does your family make you eat--just straight unbuttered bread under the guise of it being a real breakfast food? Do they let you dip it in your unsweetened, weak tea if you’re good?”

He scoffed. “You have no idea how I live back at home.”

“And, judging from this conversation, I don’t have any desire to know any more.”

They ate in silence for the next few minutes. Y/N smiled when she saw Draco reach for a second pancake.

“Two desserts? Draco, I know it’s New Year’s, but don’t get too off the hinges,” she teased. 

He rolled his eyes, but she could tell her was fighting back a smile. “Speaking of which, how do you celebrate New Year’s?”

Draco looked up and met her eyes. “Sorry?”

“How do you celebrate tonight? With your family or your friends, or your...whatever.” The cold reality of the fact that she did not really know if he was dating someone back home set in.

“Oh, I don’t usually. It’s not really a big thing in the magical community,” he mused, unaware of her sudden panic.

“Well,” she said. “I always celebrate New Year’s with my friends. I didn’t tell you this sooner because I didn’t think that you were going to be here, but I’m kind of hosting a party here tonight. With anyone who can walk here.”

“Oh.” He took a sip of his tea. “Will it be like the Halloween party at Sylvia’s?”

“What do you mean?” She smiled. “Do you mean, will there be drinking?”

He shrugged in response, avoiding eye contact.

“There definitely can be,” she continued, her smile widening. “Last year we played this dumb drinking game over this card game--if you lost, you took a shot. It was fun. We could do that again.”

She settled down to eat, digging into two of the pancakes. They were really good--she wasn’t Gordon Ramsay by any means, but she did breakfast food pretty well. But at the mention of her friends, a realization hit her. “Oh. Draco?”

He raised an eyebrow and met her eyes.

“Um, can I tell you something?” 

He dipped his head in recognition while Y/N cleared her throat.

“So, um, I forgot about this,” she began, “but while you were gone, I kind of had to scramble to figure out what to tell everyone about why we were avoiding each other before you left. And why you left so suddenly and why I didn’t know.”

He was still watching her in curious silence. 

“So, I really didn’t want to slip up or say anything about...you.” Y/N paused to take a sip of her tea, deciding to not try to look at Draco again. “So I decided to tell Sylvia and Lizzy that I told you my feelings for you and you didn’t return them.”

A clang startled her enough to look up. Draco was staring, completely frozen. His fork had fallen into the syrup on his plate, handle and all.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. 

“I mean, oh, fuck. Um.” She smiled at him, hoping it was going to distract from her audible stumble. “Obviously, I made it all up. I mean, both sides! But what’s important is that they bought it, and now they’re probably going to give you a little shit for not liking me ‘back’. So I’m sorry about that.”

“Made it all up, huh?” His voice had a surprisingly teasing lilt. 

“Yes, that is in fact what I said,” she responded, hoping that her cheeks weren’t as red as they felt hot.

“Is it really now?” 

“Draco!” 

He rolled his eyes. “I’ll be back. I need a new fork.”

“Just wipe off the handle of the one you have now--Draco, why are you getting up? Stop!”

~ 

To her disappointment, none of her friends were able to show. Sylvia and Lizzy made a concerted effort to try and convince their family to let them brave the walk, but once another flurry started up outside, it was hopeless. Her face turned pink whenever she thought about the fact that she hadn’t even needed to tell Draco the thing that made her slip up in the first place. 

Y/N, disappointed but not surprised, told Draco that she still wanted to celebrate, even if it was just with him. He’d snorted at this--asking her why she made it seem like such a burden--but once she produced a yellow glass bottle and a deck of cards and told him she bet that she was going to beat his sorry ass, he caved.

She started with a heavy lead, but once Draco learned the rules and strategies of the slightly convoluted Go Fish game, he proved to be a worthy match. They played until around 11:45 when the bottle was about 3/4 full and Y/N was feeling the pleasant warmth of being slightly intoxicated. Once she noticed the time, she threw her cards on the table. 

“Let’s watch the ball drop,” Y/N said with no further explanation, even when Draco looked to her for one. She grabbed the bottle and his hand, pulling him up the stairs to her room. The remote control for her TV was a struggle to find--it was all the way tucked back in her nightstand drawer--but thankfully the channel was already set. 

“You forgot the cups,” Draco said, staring down at the opened bottle held in his hand.

“You can get them if you want,” she managed.

“You should! You forgot them.”

“Too far,” she whined, flopping to lean back on her pillows while Draco followed suit. His hair smelled like peppermint. Without much more thought, she moved close enough that their shoulders were touching. He didn’t move away--instead, he lifted the bottle to his lips and took a drink directly. 

“Your New Year’s traditions are weird as fuck,” he murmured as he watched Savannah Guthrie on the screen. He didn’t have to speak very loud for her to hear him, and it seemed like he knew this.

“Oh, you haven’t even heard it all yet,” said Y/N. “We’ve got a tradition to kiss someone going into the New Year. New Year’s kiss, I guess. I’m sure you can imagine the kind of drama that creates.”

“What d’you mean?”

“You don’t have to be dating to kiss someone, sometimes people just...do it. As friends.” Y/N reached over to the bottle and took a swig herself, feeling the warmth trickle down her throat.

“Take it easy,” he tutted, pulling the bottle away from her before taking another drink himself. 

“Hey! Says you!”

“Because I can actually hold my liquor well,” he teased, giving her a shove.

“The fuck are you talking about?”

“You just kept getting worse and worse at whatever that game was,” he told her matter-of-factly.

“Give it here,” she said, reaching across his chest to where he was holding the bottle, out and above his head. She hoped he couldn’t tell how much this side of him filled her with glee. “That’s not fair!”

“Not fair, huh?” He raised an eyebrow and met her eyes as he held it up even further into the air. His voice was startlingly low. “So what are you gonna do about it?”

Before she could muster up a response, the TV began playing the audio for the New Year’s Countdown.

10!

Y/N wasn’t sure if she was supposed to answer--or if he was just...flirting?

9!

He managed to set the bottle on her nightstand without taking his eyes off of her.

8!

The hand she had used to reach across him with was now pressed into his side of the bed, supporting her as she hovered over him.

7!

Without moving any part of her body, she dared to glance at his parted lips.

6!

Maybe telling him about the kiss tradition was a stupid idea.

5!

His hand, warm and soft,  reached up to brush a piece of hair away from her cheekbone. 

4! 

His fingers lingered on the outline of her jaw.

3!

2!

1!

He was kissing her before the cheers from the TV even had the chance to bounce around the room, both hands cupping her face and pulling her in so desperately that it took her breath away.

Her hands found his shoulders, then the back of his neck, and then, eventually his hair. It was just as soft as she imagined it to be. They started out innocently enough--closed mouth kisses and only their hands touching each other above the shoulders--but once she tugged on his hair (mostly by accident) something...shifted. 

Suddenly he was on top of her, and suddenly her leg was wrapped around him as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss. It occurred to her that this was no longer just a New Year’s kiss. He tasted of lemon and sugar--and was notably better at what he was doing than any of the people she’d kissed before. Or maybe it was the alcohol clouding her judgement. Regardless, she liked whatever was going on. His hands had drifted from her face to her neck to her hair to her shoulder, gently tracing the outline of her bra strap. She brushed her hand down his chest, pulling gently at the collar on his shirt. Only when his leg pressed up into her and her breath hitched did she realize the weight of their situation.

The way he pulled away to hover over her signaled that he’d had the same revelation, his eyes wide as he stared down at her. “Um…”

“Yeah?” Dread crept into her despite the pleasant haze she was in. 

He swallowed, hard. “I can’t believe I did that.”

Draco was on the other side of the bed in seconds, wringing his hands and keeping his eyes fixed on her floor. “Oh, my god, I can’t believe I did that. I’m sorry. I’m drunk and I’m not thinking straight. I’m so sorry.”

“Is something wrong?” She didn’t know if he wanted her to touch him, but she wanted so badly to place a steadying hand on his shoulder. “Did you not want...it?”

He scoffed and turned his gaze up to the ceiling. “I had too much to drink. I’m sorry.”

“Oh.” Y/N felt the blood drain from her face as she fell back on the bed.

That’s all it was. A drunken mistake. 

Tears pricked at her eyes as she surveyed her options. Despite the fact that she was drunk off her ass, she knew she couldn’t just tell him to leave without making her feelings clear. She never explicitly told him that she wanted him and it wasn’t like she moaned his name or anything--thank god--but what other option did she have? She didn’t want to cry in front of him, and if he stayed in her room any longer he would without a doubt witness her alcohol induced cry fest. 

NBC finally switched to ads, and Y/N granted herself permission to mourn the fact that Flo from Progressive would forever be ruined for her. 

It was dark enough for her to quickly reach up and wipe her eyes undetected, granting her enough confidence to sit up and look at him directly. “You don’t get to just...kiss me like that. I hope you know that.”

“I know,” he said. His hands were clasped tightly together and rested on his nose. “Fuck. Of course I know.”

“But you can tell me you meant it to be just as friends,” she told him, hoping he couldn’t see how hard she was fighting back a new wave of tears. 

“As friends,” he repeated, his tone flat. 

“As friends,” she said. 

“I don’t think either of us are daft enough to believe that.” 

Her stomach twisted. “What do you mean?”

“Maybe things are different in America, but I don’t see you doing that sort of thing with Lizzy.”

“We can forget about this. It’s fine. I know you regret it.”

He exhaled, his breath long and shaky. “I didn’t stop because I regretted it.”

“Then why did you?”

“Because…”

“Is it because I’m a muggle?” His silence was everything she needed for an answer. “Okay. I had a feeling.”

“Y/N, it’s not like...I don’t know how to explain it.” He still wouldn’t make eye contact with her. “I just don’t know what to do.”

“About what?” 

“About this!” he said, dramatically gesturing to her. “About everything!”

“I don’t understand.” The tears began pricking in the corners of her eyes again despite her best efforts. 

Draco finally looked at her. She was shocked by how genuinely distressed he looked--the last time he looked at her like this, she’d been laying on the ground outside of the antique sore. “I don’t expect you to.”

His tone was low, careful. He was holding back.

“Can you just tell me how you feel about me, then? Just so I know?”

“It’s not that--” He stopped himself, sucking in another breath before he continued. “I shouldn’t. It’s not right of me.” He groaned, flopping onto his back and covering his face. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“Hey,” Y/N said, reaching out to awkwardly pat his shoulder. “I meant it when I said that we could just forget about it. We’re friends, Draco. Just friends. I know you didn’t mean it. Let’s just pretend this never happened, ok?”

He was quiet for a bit before responding. “Did you...want me to kiss you? Did I make you uncomfortable?”

“Uncomfortable?”

“As in, did you want me to stop?”

“Oh.” Y/N cracked her knuckles. “You didn’t violate me if you’re asking to gauge how guilty you should be.” 

“I’m glad to hear that, but that’s not why I’m asking.”

“Okay,” she said simply. He was still laying in her bed, and she hated the fact that her bed was going to smell like him until she washed everything. 

“So?” He raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t answer.”

“We’re friends, Draco.” She sent him a weak smile as she repeated her previous sentiment. “I trust you, so you didn’t make me uncomfortable.” 

She was aware of the fact that her sentence didn’t exactly track, but she wasn’t particularly concerned with the literary quality of her speech.

“That still doesn’t answer my other question.”

“I…” She felt her throat dry up. “I want--I wanted you to kiss me. I’ve wanted you to kiss me for a while now.” 

At this, he finally sat up and looked her in the eyes. She thought she could see the briefest glint of relief pass over his face before he managed to rein it back to a neutral expression.

“Did you want to kiss me?”

“I was the one who kissed you, not the other way around, yeah?”

“That still doesn’t answer my question,” she snipped, hoping he caught on to her mocking. She’d missed sparring with him. 

“Yes, I kissed you because I wanted to, not for some weird ulterior motive,” he responded, rolling his eyes despite the fact that his cheeks were clearly very pink, even in her dimly lit room. “Though I agree it’s best if we just stayed friends.”

“Yeah.” She felt her face fall, but she managed to catch it before she looked too devastated. “It’s all water under the bridge. Now we know not to drink together again.”

“That too.” He shifted, clearing his throat before making eye contact with her again with an uncharacteristically soft expression. ���But the damage is already done, I suppose?”

“I suppose,” she echoed. “You wanted to kiss me? Actually?”

“Should we really talk about this? After what we just said about staying friends?”

“We’re going to feel regret tomorrow morning no matter what we do now, “ said Y/N. “Might as well.”

He smiled one of his rare smiles--the ones where his eyes went all soft and he dipped his head to hide it. “Yes. I really do. Want to kiss you, that is.”

“I really want you to kiss me,” she blurted out before slapping her hand over her mouth in shock. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.” 

His smile morphed into more of a smirk as he crept closer, his hand resting on top of her knee. “So can I do it again?”

“Draco…” She sighed.

“The damage is already done,” he repeated as he reached his hand up to brush a lock of her hair behind her ear, his fingers dragging down her neck. The smug look that formed on his face after she drew a quick breath in confirmed that he knew what he was doing, that fucker. “You said it yourself--we’re just friends.”

“I’m going to hate myself in the morning if I say yes.”

 Draco’s hand drifted over her jaw, his thumb pausing to trace over her bottom lip. “You can hate me instead.” 

This time, it didn’t surprise her so much when he leaned in. He was notably less desperate, taking time to draw breaths in between kisses and lacing his fingers through hers, squeezing. Once he seemed satisfied, he lifted her chin and brushed the hair away from her neck, kissing down from her jaw to her collarbone. She shivered, and he drew her closer by wrapping his arms around her until she was sitting on his lap.

“Wow, you’re such a good friend, Draco,” she managed to joke. She could feel the smirk that formed on his lips as it passed over her clavicle.

 “Shut up.” His teeth grazed over her delicate skin before he sucked, eliciting a gasp from her. She could feel him smile again. 

His hands teased the bottom hemline of her sweater, his fingers tangling in the fabric but not moving it. She sucked in a breath, feeling his hands ghost over her skin. 

“Are you okay with…”

“Yes!” The answer came out much quicker than she would’ve liked, but the grin on Draco’s face made it completely worth the momentary embarrassment as he helped her out of the thick cable-knit sweater. “Now is your chance to dote on me and tell me how beautiful I am. As a friend, of course.”

“You stole the words right out of my mouth,” he said. He looked like he was positively glowing as she smiled and leaned in to kiss him, slow and deep. His hands found her back and hesitated over her bra clasp.

Before he had a chance to do anything, Y/N started fiddling with the buttons on his white shirt, successfully undoing the first two before she noticed that Draco had frozen completely.

“Is something wrong?”

“Kind of,” he said. “Maybe...not now, okay?”

“I had a feeling that was too much,” she admitted, reaching for her top before realizing he’d tossed it across her bedroom floor and suddenly feeling very exposed.

“It’s not that…” he said, trailing off. “I just...should probably tell you some things before my shirt comes off. And I don’t think tonight is the best time for that.”

“Oh.” Y/N tried to make herself look like she understood whatever he was on about. “Yeah, of course. Oh! Is it about that tattoo you tried to gaslight me into believing didn’t exist?”

“Y/N!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t gaslight you!”

“Here you go again,” she huffed. “I rest my case.” 

“And I am not getting into that now,” he said. “I didn’t want to talk about it for very good reason.” 

She reached up to his shoulders, dragging her fingertips over his collarbones and watching as he gazed up at her. “That’s okay. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

The corners of his lips turned up at this, and she took the opportunity to press a chaste kiss on the edge of his mouth. “I think we should go to sleep. We have enough material to regret for tomorrow at this point. Any more and I think we’ll be getting greedy, so--”

Draco cut her off with one last kiss, his fingers splayed out across her back, pulling her impossibly close before finally releasing her.

“Agreed.” He let out a sigh before sliding her off him and standing up to grab her runaway sweater. “Do you want to sleep in this? Or do you want me to get you something else from your dresser while I’m up?”

“Um…” She was frozen at the prospect of him watching her change clothes. “Probably something else. Top left drawer--just pick whatever.”

He sifted through her piles of random T-shirts before settling on one with the UChicago logo and tossing it to her. 

Y/N pulled it over her head, grateful for the fact that he wasn’t staring at her with only a black lace bra that barely did its job. 

“So, uh, I think I should probably go then,” he said. 

She fought the urge to ask him to stay. “Yeah, that’d be best.”

His mouth opened like he was about to say something, but he closed it and frowned. “So I guess this is goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Draco,” she replied. “I’ll look forward to agonizing over this in the morning.”

Once the sounds of his footsteps heading down the hall faded, she finally allowed herself to flop back onto her now Draco-scented sheets.

What the fuck just happened.

final a/n: hellooooooo ! it finally happened! i hope this didn’t seem rushed or unnatural to you guys but like. it’s been over 30k words and i thought you guys deserved something. yes i am going to be leaning into the whole “we’re just friends” trope while definitely not being just friends. yes i am going to drag astoria into this i’m excited i hope yall enjoyed

[wannabemobwife]

Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas - Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Sinking Friendships

Dad!Mob!Tom x Mom!Mob!Reader

-Pairings: Tom Holland x Reader, Rosie Holland x Henry Osterfield

-Warnings: Language, Blood, Car accident, hospital scenes/talk, small talk of religion (sorry it just felt right for the story), angst, fighting, typos

-Words: 5.6K

Author note: Sorry for the shit writing, it was so hard to write the car accident. Tried to make it as medically accurate as possible. Most knowledge derived from Grey’s Anatomy/WebMD. Sorry this chapter is long. Feel free to leave comments or message me directly your feelings while reading the chapter. Every message I've received is so sweet thank you all.

*Anytime 3 dots/ellipses (…) its a sob/breath and a moment of reflection during dialogue.

Chapter 8: Sinking Friendships

Words: 5.6K

Sirens, flashing lights and screams were the only thing Henry remembered. It all happened so fast. One minute Henry and Rosie were laughing together getting lost in each other’s eyes and the next they were both unconscious awaiting their death.

There was no time for Henry to react in anyway. No swerves or movements were made to prevent the impact. A maroon truck had collided Roise’s side, jolting her entire body. Her door was dented beyond belief.

From the forceful impact caused their car skid on the pavement, wearing the paint job away, and crash into the street pole. Henry’s entire body screamed out in pain, his injuries weren’t as bad as Rosie’s though.

“Rosie? Rosie! Rosie!!” Henry called out, desperately wanting to hear her lovely voice. Panic and heartbreak ensued when he saw blood dripping down the side of her head.

Rosie wasn’t moving. How could she be full of life one minute and the next, not? Henry reached over and placed two fingers below her jaw searching for a pulse. He felt he was able to breathe once her felt her few and far between heartbeats, it was faint but it was still there.

“Darling, wake up. Rosie, wake up! Open your eyes for me.”

Henry could feel himself fading by the moment. He used his last breaths to tell the girl he loved he was sorry. Her life was hanging by a thread and in that moment Henry was utterly useless. Praying that she would wake and he would get to hold her again, as everything faded to black.

It had to be about 15 minutes. 15 minutes for an ambulance to arrive. 15 minutes that Henry and Rosie had been unconscious for. 15 minutes of complete stillness, as everyone outside the vehicle panicked. The witness had called 911 multiple times and the other driver was unconscious at his wheel.

After those brutal and possible life ending minutes, help finally arrived. They pulled Henry from the wreck, putting him on a gurney.

“Sir, can you hear me?” called out the paramedic. “Yes. My girlfriend, help her please,” Henry was pleading for his life. How could he be so careless, it was only an accident? “Sir, just lay back. Let us take care of you,” the paramedic uttered, putting her hand on his shoulder to hold him down.

“No. I need to make sure she is okay.”

“Sir, you need to restrain yourself. The other paramedics have got her.”

“ROSIE! Just please let me know if she is okay,” screamed Henry.

“Sedate him please. I’ll go check on the girl,” said the paramedic. Henry faded into a deep sleep a moment later.

“Hey, how’s the girl? Her boyfriend won’t stop asking,” asked the paramedic to the one attending to Rosie. “Unresponsive. She has head trauma and a pulse, thank god,” he murmured. Henry was sent along with Rosie to Kingston Memorial hospital. The hospital was 20 mins away, so much can happen in that time.

Everyone else was sleeping soundly within the walls of the Holland Manor. It started to become a common theme that phone calls in the middle of the night usually meant someone was hurt. This time it was Harrison calling.

“Haz? It’s so late why are you calling?” You asked, jolting awake.

“There’s been an accident and Tom didn’t answer when I called. It’s Rosie and Henry. It sounded bad, Y/N.”

“Oh my god. I’ll see you there,” you responded, barely forming the words as tears started to fall.

“TOM WAKE UP!” you screamed, shaking him awake.

“What?… I’m up. I’m up.”

“There’s been accident.” No more words were said, they just hopped in the car and drove as fast as possible. Tom knuckles grew white clutching around the steering wheel. He couldn’t even begin to fathom a world with his Rosie in it. Harrison was already there, pacing in the waiting room.

“Haz. Where is she?” you said, tears begging to fall.

“I don’t know they won’t tell me anything because I’m not family,” Harrison answered.

“Fuck that, you are our family. How’s Henry?” Tom exclaimed.

“He’s ok. Just a minor concussion and dislocated shoulder, he’s in there right now. They are putting his shoulder back in its socket. He was really lucky but, I am worried about Rosie.” Haz said, just as a doctor dressed in surgical scrubs approached them.

“Are you here for Rosie Holland?” asked the doctor, Tom just nodded in response.

“Mr. and Mrs. Holland, I presume,” continued the doctor

“Yes, that’s us,” Tom replied, clasping your hand in his. He tried to put on a brave face for his wife. You couldn’t both be a mess.

“Ok, Rosie is still in surgery. With extensive injuries like hers we like to keep the family updated as much as possible. Your daughter was the nearest point of impact. She came in with a puncture wound to the abdomen, a severe concussion, massive internal bleeding, many cuts caused by broken glass and severe trauma to her head.”

“Will she be okay?” you asked, accidentally interrupting the doctor.

“Let him finish darling,” Tom said, his grip on her hand tightening.

“It is still too early to know. I have to get back.”

“Alright Doctor, thank you,” Tom acknowledged. You just fell into Tom’s arms, letting all the tears you were holding back fall. You broke into a fit of sobs in his embrace.

“Tom, I don’t want to lose her. I can’t lose her. She’s our baby,” you whimpered, your tears staining his t-shirt

“Shh, darling. She’ll pull through. Remember she is just like her strong mother.”Tom whispered, rubbing a soothing hand over your back.

“Have you gotten in touch with Parker?” Asked Tom as he continued to comfort you.

“No, I’ve been trying. Leaving message after message… Why fuck isn’t he picking up?” yelled Haz. Just then, Henry had walked up, sporting a cloth sling His heart nearly broke as he saw you crying your eyes out buried in Tom’s arms.

“No. No, no, no. Don’t tell me she didn’t make it.” Henry cried as his knees started to buckle at the thought of losing Rosie.

“Henry no, she’s still in surgery. Hey, come here.” Harrison said trying to calm down his son.

“Henry, what the happened?” Tom asked, scared for his daughters life.

“What were you doing with Rosie anyway? It’s late.” Tom questioned again after Henry stood silent, growing louder.

“Hey, Tom. Back off,” Harrison said, standing in front of Tom.

“No. I want to know the reason why my daughter is in there fighting for her god damm life.” Tom screamed. Henry was like a deer caught in headlights. He couldn’t lie his way out of this one. His eyes just shifted between Tom, you and his dad.

“A truck hit Rosie’s side when I was driving, I’m sorry, it was an accident.” Henry cried, barely able to get the words out.

“Son, we know it was an accident. It wasn’t your fault,” Harrison said, comforting Henry.

“Where? Where were you guys?” Tom pestered on.

“Umm, we were on our way back from… from a date. We are dating.” Henry muttered, his eyes glued to the floor.

“What? Y/N did you know about this?” Tom asked, ready to throw hands.

“Yes, Tom,” you murmured, avoiding Tom’s disappointed glare.

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?” Tom screeched.

“And for you. Who the fuck said you could date my daughter?” Tom bellowed, pointing his finger at the poor boy.

“I did kind of give them permission by keeping their secret. In your own time frame though you were supposed to ask Tom,” you muttered, bouncing between Henry and Tom.

“Wait. For how long? For how fucking long?” Tom cursed.

“2 months.” Henry whispered.

“2 months. 2 fucking months. You were lying to me?” Tom screamed, he was livid at you.

“I don’t want you dating her,” Tom growled with an unchanging expression.

“I’m sorry, sir. What?” Henry asked, dumbfounded by Tom’s response.

“Tom, what?” Haz faltered.

“Tom don’t do this, he is a good kid,” you begged.

“Break up with my daughter or there will be hell to pay,” Tom declared and with that he walked away.

“Tom, you can’t do that to them,” you yelled after Tom.

“Really Y/N watch me” Tom said, ignoring his family. His heart had been broken too many times tonight. First when he heard about the accident, another when he had learned of Rosie’s injuries and another when he found out that you had been lying to him. His mind needed to be on one person right now, Rosie.

Tom managed to cool off, but immediately changed the subject anytime you would start to apologize. He didn’t have the energy to focus or listen, all he cared about was Rosie. Parker had showed up 10 mins later, he was off doing god knows what.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Tom yelled, as he saw Parker come through the sliding doors.

“Sorry. I just got your message. Is she okay?” Parker explained.

“We don’t know she is still in surgery,” you whispered, trying to hold back tears.

“What I went out for a bit and shut my phone off. What’s the big deal?” Parker asked.

“The big deal is that I didn’t know where you were. I couldn’t get in touch you. Rosie was in a car accident and I couldn’t call you,” screamed Tom, still angry from the conversation that just perspired

“And Henry?” Parker question, ignoring Tom’s scolding.

“He’s ok. Haz is with him right now, they went to get some coffee,” you informed him.

“Are you okay, mom?” Parker asked, remembering the conversation they had the night before.

“I’ve been better. Just glad you are here,” you said, bringing him into a warm embrace. As they all stood together as a family, Rosie’s doctor came to update them.

“She is out of surgery and stable. Her heart did stop and we were able to resuscitate her, she’s in the ICU now…”

“Can we see her?” Tom asked, interrupting the doctor. A huge weight had just been lifted off his shoulders, his baby girl was going to be okay.

“Yes, but you need to know something. Her brain started to swell in surgery so we had to put her in a medically induced coma to bring down the swelling. We don’t know when she will wake up or if she will at all,” explained the doctor.

All the Hollands stood like statues, unable to process the news. You felt as though you had been punched in the stomach, you wouldn’t be able to handle losing your baby girl.

Minutes, hours and days had melded together. It had been 6 days since the accident and Rosie was still the same, laying unconscious in a hospital bed hooked up to various machines. All of you stayed at the hospital expect for Harrison and Henry. Harrison was running the mob for Tom, for the time being.

You refused to leave her side, spending every waking and sleeping hour right beside her. Seeing your daughter like this was killing you. You weren’t getting any sleep and your hair started thinning.

Rosie looked pale and lifeless, the only thing guaranteeing she was alive was the incessant heart monitor. Her bruises had started to heal, changing from a vibrant purple to an opaque yellow. Everyone prayed she would wake up.

Henry tried to visit everyday but Tom wouldn’t allow it. He was still furious his daughter was dating him and everyone else knew about it except him. Tom’s heart ached for Rosie to wake up and be his funny, sassy, brave girl once again. Tom, however couldn’t stand how the waiting was making you feel.

“Darling. Wake up!” Tom whispered, gently shaking you.

“What? Did something happen? Is Rosie ok?” You exasperated, jolting out of your sleep and trying to catch your breath.

“No, she’s fine. It has just been a while since you had gone home and cleaned up. It might do you some good, baby,” Tom pleaded.

“Tom, I can’t leave her,” you whispered.

“Y/N, it’s ok. Let me take you home and Parker will be here in case anything were to happen,” Tom explained.

You were hesitant at first but eventually agreed, it had been awhile since you had showered or had a decent meal. Living off of the same sweatshirt and hospital cafeteria snacks for the past couple days. All your energy had been put into watching Rosie.

While Tom took you home, Parker was tasked with watching his sister. As kids they were both active and had gotten hurt, only most ever being a broken bone, never a life or death situation. Not only was Rosie Parker’s sister, but she was his twin.

His built in best friend. There had never been a time where he didn’t know her, maybe the first 5 mins of his life, but Rosie soon followed. Sure they fought and argued like all siblings do, but they couldn’t imagine their life without each other. He needed her sarcastic comments and infectious laughter to brighten his day. He needed her warm, slightly awkward hugs and her bitchy attitude once in a while. Parker didn’t know what he’d do without her.

“Rosie, I don’t know if you can hear me but mom is a mess, dad has barely said to word and everyone just needs you to wake up. I need you to wake up…. We all do, especially Henry,” Parker whispered.

“God, he secretly loves you. He hasn’t had the balls to tell you yet, but if that it is what you need to wake up, then do it….Let that be it…. That he loves you, Rosie…. He loves you.”

“I know what it is like to lose someone you love. Charlotte didn’t have a choice, but you do. You can fight and come back to us…. Come back to Henry. He needs you. He calls me every night asking if you had woken up yet. Dad banned him from visiting the hospital. Really fucked that one up didn’t you Roo…. You should’ve told him about you and Henry, but that’s beside the point…. The point is let today or tomorrow or next week be the day I tell him you did…. Just promise me you will wake up ok. I know I don’t say it often but I love you.” Parker got everything he needed to say off his chest. Tears had managed to escape from his eyes as he held her hand. Henry was standing in the doorway, when Parker poured his heart out.

“Hey mate. Mind if I have a minute with my girl?” Henry spoke.

“Not at all. Perfect timing, my parents just left,” Parker said, getting up from his crouched position.

“Yeah, I know. I was parked in the parking lot, waiting for them to leave.”

“How much of that did you hear?”

“Oh, none. None what so ever.”

“So practically all of it?” Parker said in response.

“Yeah,” Henry just nodded along.

“I’ll leave you guys alone,” Parker said as left the room.

Now it was just Henry and Rosie.

Tom had forbidden Henry from seeing her, he hasn’t even gotten to hold her hand. Henry tried to hold back tears as he saw the girl he loved looking half-dead. Her skin had lost its color and her necklace, the one he had given her, was stained with blood sitting in a bag on her bedside.

“Hey Roo. I’ve missed you…. Life hasn’t been the same these past few days. I’ve missed all your good night and good morning texts and your smile.” Henry started.

“Everyone wants you to wake up. They need you to wake up. Can you just open your eyes and flash that smile for me? I need it and I need you…. Rosie,… here it goes,… I love you. I couldn’t stand the thought of you never knowing I love you. So there it is, I love you.”

“I love everything about you…. Your eyes, your laugh, even that weird snort you do. I love you and that has to be enough. It has to be enough for you to wake up and come back to me…. Don’t just do it for me, do it for Parker and your dad and your mom. They have all been losing their minds without you.”

“Rosie, please baby. I love you and that has to be enough,” Henry concluded as tears streaked his face. He moved to press a chaste kiss to her forehead when all of a sudden machines starting going off and beeping left and right.

“Rosie? Rosie stay with me!” Henry didn’t know what was happening. All he knew as that she was still alive and prayed to god he wouldn’t hear her flatlining.

Rosie’s body started to jerk and shake, involuntary. The room filled with nurses and doctors, rolling Rosie on to her side. Her muscles spasming everywhere.

“Sir, you need to leave,” said the nurse, prying Henry away from Rosie.

“No, please let me stay with her,” Henry cried, refusing to avert his eyes from Rosie.

“You need to leave. Let us help her.”

Henry stood crying, peering through the glass doors at the love his life slipping before his very eyes. Her seizure only lasted about 8 minutes but, minutes bleed to hours as tears refused to stop.

“Henry? What happened?” Parker said, running up to Henry crouched on the floor with his knees to his chest and head buried.

“I don’t know. They forced me to leave. Her body started shaking violently, I don’t know what happened,” Henry sniffled, titling his head up. His eyes were beet red and his face was riddled with tears. Parker just stood there dumbfounded. He only left for 10 minutes to get some water. How could so much go wrong in that time.

“Young man, are your parents here,” asked the doctor as everyone came out of Rosie’s room.

“No, they went home to grab some things. Why?… Is she dead?” Parker questioning, pulling at the roots of his hair.

“No, she’s alive, but we can’t share any further information till they get here,” explained the doctor. Parker just nodded in response and Henry was able to breath again, exhaling the breath he was unaware he was holding.

Parker was about to make the call he dreaded. This was the entire reason you refused to leave, in case anything were to happen.

“Parker, what’s up. Is Rosie okay?” Tom said as he answered the Parker’s call.

“Dad, no, you need to get to the hospital. Something happened with Rosie but, they won’t tell me anything,” Parker said, his voice wavering.

“Oh my god, I’ll be right there,” Tom said, hanging up the phone. He had been refusing the chance to break down, he felt as though he had to be strong for everyone else.

“Y/N! Y/N!!” Tom screamed through the house. The one time Tom tries to do something good everything gets screwed up.

“Tom, what?” You exclaimed, startled by his screams

“Something happened with Rosie,” Tom said, a fews tears dripped down his face.

“What? No. No, no, no. I wasn’t there. I’m her mom and I wasn’t there. Why the fuck did you make me leave?” You cried, feeling like a terrible mother. You never should’ve left.

“I’m sorry. Be mad at me later, let’s just go,” Tom said, grabbing his car keys.

Tom’s reckless driving was not the problem at the moment, you just need to be there for Rosie. At the hospital, Tom barely parked properly before they were running through the halls. He came upon Parker in the waiting room, looking disheveled as fuck. His eyes were puffy eyes and hair stood up, he could tell his son was tugging on it in frustration.

Tom needed something to take his mind off Rosie. He needed to punch something or beat someone up or even just take his angry out with words.

“Parker, what happened? Is she okay?” You said, scared for Rosie’s life.

“I don’t know. No one has come out of her room,” Parker explained and you just nodded in response, trying not to cry again.

“Parker, what the fuck is Henry doing in here?” Tom demanded.

“Umm,” Parker mumbled.

“I’m sorry sir, I needed to see her,” Henry said profusely, apologizing

“I don’t care what fuck you needed to do. You are the reason she is dying. You were the one driving,” Tom screamed.

“Tom it was an accident,” you said, trying to reassure yourself in the process.

“Y/N I don’t understand how you can take his side when he almost killed our baby girl.”

“Like, I said it was an accident!” you explained.

“Nurse! Nurse!” Tom yelled.

“Yes, sir. Do you need the doctor?” asked the nurse, worried someone was bleeding.

“No. I want to know who the fuck let this boy in here.” Tom thundered.

“I don’t know sir, I’m so sorry. This won’t happen again,” she explained.

“Tom he can stay. If he is telling the truth about loving Rosie this concerns him as much as it concern us,” you said. This must be killing Henry like it was to you.

“No, he fucking can’t. Now get out, before I have you escorted out of here in a body bag,” Tom threatened.

“Alright, I’ll go. Just please, tell me if she wakes up,” Henry pleaded, slowly walking away. He wasn’t going to go home, he couldn’t. He couldn’t leave, not when Rosie was still in that state.

They all saw the doctor come out of the room and quickly cornered him. A grim expression draped across his face created uneasiness in everyone.

“I’m Y/N Holland, I’m her mother. What happened? I just left for twenty minutes,” you asked, tears streaming down your face as you barged in the room.

“We put her on a ventilator, the seizure was caused by lack of oxygen to her brain,” the doctor said.

“I’m sorry, what? She had a seizure?” Tom said, trying to put the puzzle pieces together.

“Yes. Her brain function has remained unchanged for several days now. In my expert opinion, her outlook isn’t very good. I would prepare yourselves. We can keep her comfortable if you would like or we can arrange her to be moved to a facility where she will possibly heal in the future,” explained the doctor.

“What are you saying? She’s brain dead?” asked Parker chiming in.

“It’s too still early to give a definitive diagnosis, but most likely, yes. I’m sorry for your loss.” The doctor said, exiting the room. You wanted to die right in that moment. A piece of you died the second those words slipped out, you were inconsolable.

“Y/N. Baby, come here,” Tom whispered. Trying to reach out for you, his broken wife.

“Don’t fucking touch me. I should’ve never let you convince me to leave,” you cried.

The guilt was enormous for everything. You were the one who let Rosie and Henry date, without that they would have never been driving together. Never gotten in the accident, you couldn’t help but feel responsible.

It was always the same feeling, you felt walking into Rosie’s hospital room. The feeling of drowning or being burned alive. It’s indescribable. A feeling felt by those who lose their children. You put them on this earth and for them to leave it before you was wrong.

“Rosie, I’m so sorry I left baby. I’m here now and I’m never leaving,” you said, combing your hand through her brown locks.

“But its okay if you need to. It’s okay. I’ll be alright, we all will be…. You can let go…. I love you so much sweetheart, don’t every forget how much mommy loves you…. You can rest now,” you said, moving to Rosie’s side to take her hand in yours. Seeing Rosie like this was tearing you apart from the seems.

It wasn’t long before all tears had put you to sleep. Tom had covered you up with a blanket. You talked to Rosie as though she could hear you. Maybe she could, maybe not but, you definitely wished she could. Tom hadn’t had the chance to break down like you. You needed him to be the strong one, but he was human too.

“Rosie, it’s dad. Everyone besides me has gotten the chance to talk to you, so here it goes,” Tom started.

“I know your mother said that is was ok to leave, but it is not. You hear me. Don’t you dare leave…. Rosie, darling you need to fight. Fight whatever it is that will bring you back to us. You are so much stronger than you lead on baby.”

“I love you so much, please come back to us…. I don’t know if your mother can take losing you. Also that boy you secretly hid from me. Once you wake up you are grounded. I don’t know why you fell for that scruffy looking kid but he needs you, baby. We all do,” Tom concluded. There was no easy fix to this problem. He couldn’t go out and torture somebody or beat them til they broke. Not even money could fix this. He felt completely and utterly useless.Tom reached out to the only thing that could help his daughter, God.

“Hey, god above, I don’t really have a name for you. You are just the one who watches over people, you could be from any religion. I don’t know,” Tom said, clasping his hand together as he spoke to the heavens above.

“I know we don’t talk often and I’m sorry for that and I’m sorry for the despicable acts I’ve committed but I need you help…. My daughter needs your help. She was in a car accident and she hasn’t woken up yet. She’s so young, she has her entire life ahead of her and I want her to experience it all…. I’d really like to walk her down the aisle someday. Can you just bring her back to me? That’s all I ask, just bring her back.”

“Thank you. Shit, I’m believe I’m supposed to say amen and I’m sorry for cursing a second ago. Just remember what we talked about, do this for her not me. God knows I don’t deserve it,” Tom said, ending his plea to the god or gods above.

Tom couldn’t of imagined better timing, with his speech, Rosie’s fingers started to twitch in his hand.

“Y/N wake up?” Tom yelled.

“What, I’m up. Is she ok?” You asked, confused by his outburst.

“Better than ok, her hand moved,” Tom explained.

“Oh my god, really? Parker go get the doctor,” you said, moving towards Rosie.

“Rosie?” Tom said as she started to stir.

“Rosie, baby. I’m here” you said, holding her hand. Rosie eyes fluttered open as she choked on the intubation tube, which gave her oxygen.

“Shh, you’re ok. You were in a car accident with Henry. You’re ok,” you said, softly. The look on Rosie’s face broke your heart. She looked so confused and overwhelmed all you wanted to do was hold her and never let go. Yes, she was a teenager but she will always be your baby girl.

Parker quickly brought the doctor in and he conducted a neurological exam. He removed the tube down her throat, allowing her to breath normally.

“Rosie, you’re awake. Don’t try to talk, it will feel weird for a while. I can get you something for the pain. I’m going to have you do a few tests. Blink once for yes and twice for no, ok?” The doctor explained. Rosie followed his instructions and blinked once. You and Tom were holding each other, praying Rosie didn’t have any brain damage.

“Follow the light for me please. Good. Squeeze my hand. Good grip… These are all amazing signs. Everything looks good. No neurological deficits, but I still would like to get an MRI for her. In the meantime, just rest. It’s going to feel weird as your brain has basically been sleeping for a week,” the doctor concluded, leaving everyone alone to rejoice.

“Mom?” Rosie said, her voice extremely hoarse.

“Yeah, honey. Take it easy,” you said. Words couldn’t describe how you were feeling, you got your daughter back.

“Where’s Henry?” Rosie croaked out.

“He’s ok Rosie, I believe he is outside. Would you like to see him?” You asked, much to Tom’s dismay. Rosie just nodded in response, trying to make everything seem less hazy.

“Rosie,” Henry said with a biggest smile on his face. Nothing could bring this boy down from cloud 9, she was ok. The love of his life was ok.

“Hi,” she said with a half-smile. That’s all she could must her up with her energy.

“Thank god you’re okay. I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Henry said, kissing her forehead.

“We will give you two a minute,” you said, pulling Tom and Parker out of the room. Tom was giving you a bunch of harsh glares, he knew what you were doing. However, he too ecstatic that Rosie was awake to be mad at Henry.

“Are you okay? How do you feel?” Henry asked concerned.

“I’m okay. Henry, I have to tell you something,” Rosie responded.

“I love you…. Walking up in the hospital bed just made me realize who cares if it’s too soon or if you don’t feel the same way, I just had to tell you. I love you,” Rosie declared. This was his chance, break her heart and walk away, she didn’t deserve to be here in a hospital bed. Tom was right, Henry knew what he had to do.

“Rosie, I think we should break up,” Henry said, already feeling like he made the biggest mistake of his life.

“What, why? Did I do something wrong? I thought we were happy. Just yesterday you said you were falling in love me. What the fuck happened?” Rosie faltered, confused by everything.

“Rosie, it’s just not working,” Henry exclaimed with the lamest excuse.

“Fine. Leave,” she said, trying to not let tears fall.

“Roo, we can still be friends.”

“Don’t fucking say that to me. You don’t get to call me that anymore,” Rosie screamed.

“Rosie, I’m sorry,” Henry tried to say something else but was cut off.

“Just get the fuck out. I’m serious, FUCKING LEAVE!!” she thundered as he left. Henry felt like literal shit and an asshole and a fucking idiot all at once. He had just broken the heart of the girl he loves. It was never supposed to happen this way.

“Henry? What’s wrong?” You asked as you saw Henry storm through the halls.

“Are you happy Tom? I did it,” Henry barked.

“Glad she’s awake. Y/N you should go in there, she needs you,” Henry exclaimed, before leaving for good this time.

“Tom, we need to talk about Rosie and Henry,” you said, furious at Tom and his decision to break them up.

“He’s gonna fucking break her heart and I won’t allow it,” Tom yelled.

“You can’t keep them apart and you already did that,” you said sternly, you couldn’t believe the nerve on your husband.

“Y/N end of fucking discussion. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me. We don’t keep secrets from each other. For fucks sake, how fucking stupid are you? Letting our daughter whore around with that kid, just like you did,” he vociferated.

“Whore around like I did? Really? Why don’t you look in the fucking mirror?” You screamed, zero fucks were given.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Tom barked.

“I know about you and Jazz.”

“What?”

“You went to a hotel and met her there. Tell me I’m wrong,” you interjected. Tom was too furious to explain his actions, he let you believe he cheated on you.

“Your silence answers my question,” you remarked, wanting to break down inside.

“Tom, just so you know you're sleeping on the couch tonight,” you said. You had your answer now. How could Tom do that to you. I didn’t matter in that moment all that mattered was consoling your daughter who Tom broke.

“Real fucking mature Y/N,” Tom yelled, as you walked away.

“Rosie?” You asked, knocking on her door.

“Mom… he broke up with me,” Rosie said as tears fell.

“Oh, baby. I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t know what I did wrong…. I swear to god if he met some other chick while I was in a coma.”

“No, nothing like that,” you said, trying to comfort your daughter. There is nothing like a first heartbreak.

“There has to be a reason. One minute I was in love with a boy who loved me back and now, I’m not.”

“Shh, it's okay,” you said, rubbing you hand down Rosie’s back as you pulled her into your arms. How could Henry actually do that to her and flee the scene like a coward. Parker managed to chase him down in the parking lot.

“What the fuck Henry?” Parker called after him

“I did it because I love her,” Henry exclaimed, continuing to walk away.

“Bullshit,” Parker yelled as he punched Henry square in the jaw.

“Owww.”

“I said, I’d fucking hurt you if you broke her heart.”

“Yeah, I know. It was still a shitty threat, but I deserved that.”

“I don’t understand what happened Henry. One minute you tell me you love her the next you don’t…. I don’t know if I will ever understand but you can’t come by the house for awhile,” Parker pleaded, wanting to know the truth.

“Alright. Just tell her I’m sorry mate.” Henry concluded, feeling like literal shit and an asshole and a fucking idiot all at once. He had just broken the heart of the girl he loves. It was never supposed to happen this way.

Author note: I'm sorry for all those who love Rosie and Henry. Don't be afraid to call me a bitch for breaking your heart, my brother did when he read it. Also Tom is a literal asshole in this chapter.

I really can't wait for you guys to read the next ones, even if you don't ask for it. I will post hints for the next chapter with emojis because it's fun.

Guns, Glamour, Goodfellas Masterlist

Taglist: @thenoddingbunny-blog @adriannauni @dummiesshort @bi-lmg @allthisfortommy

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Love Cuts Deep

Chapter 13- Avengers. Assemble

Summary: With the new Infinity Gauntlet finally put together, things are about to get more chaotic then you could have ever realized. But in the aftermath, there is a joy within the sadness.

Warning: fighting, some blood, angst, fluff, bucky returns!

Masterlist

With no time to waste, Tony’s robotic tech ever so carefully placed the Infinity Stones onto a new gauntlet specially crafted by the man himself. With the utmost precision, he designed the piece in the familiar likeness of the Ironman suit, specifically taking into account the hand area. All in all, it looks just like that blasted Infinity Gauntlet that’s caused yourself and the universe so much pain.

But you known this is different, this is necessary above all else and must happen or you’ll face the dreary facts of never seeing Bucky ever again. No one still left behind in the aftermath like yourself will ever see their loved ones again, and Natasha’s death would all be for nothing. This is it.

You stand around Rocket with the rest of your friends, everyone suited up for the inevitable unknown while he carefully finishes up a few lasting touches on the metalwork with the aid of Tony to keep it steady.

“All right, the glove’s ready.” Affirms Rocket with a confident nod as everyone stands around him waiting expectantly, “Question is, who’s gonna snap their freakin’ fingers?”

 The room keeps to a heavy silence before Thor immediately makes hastily overconfident steps forward, “I’ll do it.” States the bearded god of thunder, no surprise to you, like he’s even in the right headspace to take on such a task. Especially looking like he just walked out of a homeless shelter.

Thor quickly earns a puzzled look from Tony. “Excuse me?” Asserts Stark with a raised brow as just about everyone else gives Thor a similar look of bewilderment.

Thor waves him off with a casual swing of his thick paw, “It’s okay.” Calmly dismisses Thor as he walks in closer to the perched gauntlet, eyes set for the powerful object within arms reach. Tony, Steve, and Clint immediately raise their arms to hold him back for the time being as your eyes widen at his go-getter attitude for something so seriously dangerous. He would fucking die.

“Stop, stop. Slow down.” Advises Tony while Steve steps between the gauntlet and an eager Thor. Blue eyes set and steady though a friendly softness flashes through them knowing the true reasons why Thor wants to do this above all the others, “Thor. Just wait. We haven’t decided who’s gonna put that on yet.” Implores Steve while Thor blinks, clearly not satisfied with this answer.

“I’m sorry. What, we’re all just sitting around waiting for the right opportunity?” Laughs off the large Asgardian as his eyes trail around the room to the unclear hesitant faces of you all.

“We should at least discuss it.” Interjects Scott as Thor turns to face him before looking to all of you again.

Thor finds Steve’s conflicted gaze of uncertainty, “Look, sitting here staring at that thing is not gonna bring everybody back.....I’m the strongest Avenger, okay? So, this responsibility falls upon me...”

Tony sets a friendly hand on his chest, “Normally you’re right...”

“It’s my duty.” Interrupts Thor, more heatedly this time as Tony slowly draws him away from the gauntlet. Doing his best to sway Thor’s mind, “It’s not about that...” Begins Tony as Thor interjects. “It’s not that...” Rambles Thor as you frown, eyes set on the glowing Infinity Stones as they rest comfortably atop the Vibranium laced metalwork.

“Sheeesh stop it!” Whines the agitated god of thunder, “Just let me....Just let me do it.” Whispers Thor in defeat, face falling with remorse as he focuses on Tony, “Just let me do something good. Something right...”

Tony lets out a disheartened sigh, “Look, it’s not just the fact that glove his channeling enough energy to light up a continent. I’m telling you. You’re in no condition.” Sincerely adds Tony, trying his absolute best to sway Thor from doing this to himself.

“What do you think is coursing through my veins right now?” Asks Thor with a reasonable bout of self confidence while Rodney throws a sarcastic. “Cheez Whiz?” In reply. Thor clenches his fist, pointing a threatening finger to him but ignores the verbal blow.

Eyes set on Tony as the god smiles, “Lightening.”

Tony doubtfully nods, “Yeah.”

“Lightening.” Says Thor again, like that’s going to hold all the answers and save everyone from oblivion.

Taking an anxious breath, you’ve already made your decision as you take a step forward, “Lightning won’t help you this time, Thor. You couldn’t take it.” He sends you a defeated look, eyes falling to the floor as the others gain your attention. Frowning, your eyes study the glowing colors of the new Infinity Gauntlet as you nervously swallow, “I’ll do it.”

“Y/N...” Begins Steve like a concerned father while his blue eyes grow with apprehensive doubt, he opens his mouth to speak more on the matter but you cut him off with a stern look, “My body can regenerate its genetic makeup, essentially I should heal from anything it does to me, it won’t kill me Stev...”

“We don’t know that,” Interjects a worried Bruce as he walks in closer to your little group, “It’s gotta be me, we saw what those stones did to Thanos. They almost killed him, these are the Infinity Stones we’re talking about. None of you could survive.” Explains Bruce honestly as he finds your troubled gaze, “Even you, Y/N.”

Your brows furrow in thought while you let a depleted sigh escape your lips, “How do we know you will?”

“We don’t.” Begrudgingly admits Banner, “But the radiation’s mostly gamma. It’s like...” He stares solemnly down at the beacon of destructive hope for a small moment, its shimmering colors glowing with a dangerous beauty, “..I was made for this.”

“Then it’s settled then.” Declares Tony with a confident nod, “We do this today. Everyone suit up, we have no idea how this is going to go.” And with that does the room quickly file out, your small team of nine hastily on the move to prepare yourselves for the impending future still held in mystery and a growing hope.

Soon, you and the rest of the Avengers nervously watch as Bruce picks up the metal gauntlet while Tony sends him a concerned brotherly look. “Good to go, yeah?” Wonders Tony as he stands a couple feet away for safety reasons like everyone else. Bruce gives the stones a last fleeting glance before raising his eyes up to meet him, “Let’s do it.”

“Okay, remember, everyone Thanos snapped away five years ago you’re just bringing them back to now, today. Don’t change anything from the last five years.” Warns Tony as Bruce nods. “Got it.”

Everyone takes a cautious step backwards, making sure to shield themselves from whatever’s about to happen next with either their actual suits or in Steve’s case his legitimate shield. All you got on is your usual dark attire that’s armored comfortably in the areas needed. That and your uncanny but evidently helpful ability to heal yourself instantly. Which may either become unneeded, or hold true to its helpful wonder if things go south for whatever reason.

Tony quickly has Friday adorn the protective barriers around the buildings interior so whatever happens inside, stays inside. A moment later Banner puts the gauntlet on with a hesitant grimace, the metal grows as it adjusts to his hand, immediately the power of the stones glows bright. The raw energy crawling wickedly up his arm as Bruce falls to his one knee in pain. Loud grunts of strained discomfort emitting from the half-hulks throat. Shit that looks painful.

“Take it off! Take it off!” Worries Thor as Steve throws up a cautious hand. “No, wait. Bruce, are you okay?” Banner groans in agony as Tony adds, “Talk to me, Banner.” More pained moans are heard before Bruce is finally able to give a reassuring nod, well, at least the best one he can manage.

“I’m okay.” He mutters through clenched teeth, sending a small spark of relief through everyone as he forces his fingers to reach one another. Yelling like a charging warrior through the pain of battle, Bruce forces his stiffened digits into submission, snapping his fingers through the gauntlet with all the strength he has left before a blinding bright light emits forth in an instant. Cascading the small lab into an almost heavenly glow, you can’t see anything it’s so obnoxiously bright.

When the light fades a swift moment later, you’re able to witness the aftermath of a brave Bruce Banner who’s currently semi-unconscious on the floor, metal appendage laying a couple feet away from him as Steve races to Banners side, “Bruce!” Panics Steve.

“Don’t move him.” Warns Tony as he sprays some type of healing particles onto the ashen green of Bruce’s right arm to increase the natural healing process from the stones hefty damage. “Did it work?” Wonders a drowsy Banner while he blinks back the blurry fuzz of the gauntlet's intense power.

Thor smiles brightly, “We’re not sure. It’s okay...just relax, it’s alright you did it.” Both him and Steve give Bruce some more encouraging words of praise as you take a step back from the scene to release a breath you didn’t know you had.

Holy shit, you think, heart slowing down from the adrenaline rush of it all. Trying to take in everything's that’s just happened, you ignore as Scott wanders away to the giant opening windows as your ears prick to the sound of Clint’s phone ringing on the nearby metal table. You watch curiously as he slowly walks over to it before picking it up and answering with a teary eyed grin from witnessing the picture of his beloved significant other. The sound of his confused wife reaching your ears in an instant and your heart immediately swells with joy.

Bucky!

Suddenly a dark shadow bestows itself upon the compounds opened sunroof, you quickly twist on your heel to face the others who are looking up at a dark shape with an equally as baffled expression. A second later your world turns to darkness.

Then nothing.

——

Someone’s shaking your shoulders. God that’s annoying.

But you can’t see or hear anything, can’t even feel your own body but the stuffy thick air that flows forcibly into your healing lungs. Slowly, your senses of touch and perception come back to life, vision deciding to wake up from the blurry void next and with that so does your hearing, “Y/N! Wake up! Come on, wake the fuck up!” Shouts the annoying voice of.....Clint. While his dirt smudged face flashes with uncertain panic. The fuck does he want? And where the hell are you?

Coming to, you suck in a needed breath before he quickly sits you up against a rock, a dull throbbing making itself known from the right side of your forehead that feels oddly wet. Ignoring his concerned gaze, you press a hand to it only to find your fingers coated in blood, “Clint, what the fuck just happened? And where the hell are we?” You grumble before taking a good look around you, finding nothing but rocks and ruble. “This looks like a sewer system, goddammit my suits ripped.” You complain, still a tad bit disoriented from the head trauma that’s still healing while you eye up the nasty blooded gash on your left thigh.

Clint huffs in frustration before taking a calculated look around at your minimal surroundings of rock and red warning lights as he takes a step forward, boot quickly smashing into something hard as he looks down to find the fucking gauntlet of all things right by his feet as something oddly familiar sounds in your sensitive ears. Oh, shit. Jumping to your feet, you turn your head to the cavernous tunnel on the right, night vision giving you the perfect view of... “Space dogs. Fucking space dogs!” You fearfully whisper yell as he sends you a perplexed look.

“Ugh what?” Mutters Clint as you throw him a look of pure panic, understanding something is most definably wrong if you of all people are scared shitless, he quickly sends a lighted arrow past your head before catching a glimpse of exactly what you were warning him about. Thanos’ army of monstrous bastards from space. This is your nightmare all over again.

“Shit.” Mumbles an alarmed Clint as he tugs on your arm before the two of you book it in the other direction, screams of fury and death sounding from the beasts pursuing you. For a good twenty yards do the both of you run until by some wondrous act of the universe are you able to climb your way to a higher level where the creatures can’t get to either of you. Clint shooting a skilled blow to the creatures brave enough to pursue you further, killing them quickly enough so you both have a moment to rest. And inhale much needed oxygen from the swift sprinting session you just unwillingly endured.

Laying on the metal floor next to a worn out Clint, your breaths are heavy and labored when Nebula randomly walks out of nowhere like she owns the place, glad to just see a familiar face you pay her no mind when she leans down and quickly retrieves the gauntlet from Clint before raising her hand to her ear and speaking, “Father...I have the stones.” 

Uh, what? Oh wait! Your eyes widen in fear as you swiftly jump to your feet, Adamantium claws protruding out of your fists as you prepare yourself for a fight to the death over that damned gauntlet when without warning she sends a swift blast straight through your chest. Shit, you can barely breath.

You gasp, falling to the metal earth as she’s immediately confronted by some green chick and another Nebula, though you’re too frazzled and in pain to listen to their arguing. A couple long moments later the traitor Nebula is shot, falling to the ground right next to you as your lung muscle and bones fuse back together again. Body at long last letting you take in a proper breath. Dammit she got you old western style too.

Clint’s at your side in an instant, “Jesus Y/N, you okay? That looked bad.”

Grumbling in annoyance for the misadventure you’ve just found yourself in, he kindly helps pull you to your feet, “I’ve had better days Clint, I’ve really had better days.” You deadpan as he chuckles before the both of you follow Nebula and the green woman out and into the clearing of the destroyed Avenger’s Facility.

Once foggy ashen sunlight hits your dirt smudged blood spattered face, a pearl white pegasus flies above you and Clint, “The hell?” Mumbles Barton as the two of you start jogging into the destroyed landscape of the desolated Avengers base that’s currently in the midst of a chaotic battle between Thanos’ army and the Avengers, and clearly a lot more then just your lost friends. God today just keeps getting worse, not to mention weirder.

“Come on, this way.” Shouts Clint as you two begin making your way through the mess, both on a mission to protect this stupid gauntlet and try not to get yourselves killed in the process. Though soon some type of giant lumbering beast starts trailing you two as Clint calls in to anyone listening, “What do you want us to do with this damn thing?” You can’t hear what they’re all saying due to the fact that your earpiece is broken, but quickly enough Clint glances at you.

“Y/N! We gotta find Scott and that ugly brown van of his, it’s got the time machine portal in it so we can get these stones away from here!” Shouts Barton as he jumps over a protruding piece of shrapnel before one of Thanos’ loyal creatures jumps near, throwing him to the side as you launch yourself onto the beast. Digging your shimmering talons deep into its neck as it screams in agony, dying a second later.

“Give me that fucker, I can see the van from here.” You urgently exclaim as he hands it over to you without a second thought, too exhausted to run any longer. With the stones in your possession now, you book it on swift legs across the demolished battlefield as monsters of all kinds pursue you.

You’re luckily able to slash a few while dodging heated blows in an attempt to stall your progression, although unknowingly to you while you’re sprinting like a bat out of hell, mumbling a distressed chorus of “Fuck off, Fuck off, Fuck off..” to no one in particular. Bucky’s gaze is able to track your panicked form as it races across the destroyed landscape, Infinity gauntlet in hand. So that’s what you’re doing, thinks Bucky with relief, glad to know you’re okay. Well, for the most part.

Slipping from his curious view, you make it a good ten yards before a lumbering beast knocks you from your stable legs and onto the ground just as T’Challa ends its ugly life. Body hurting all over, you finally give up the gauntlet into the arms of the Black Panther, “I got it Y/N, you’ve done well.” Praises the king of Wakanda as you give him a weak thumbs up in reply, too damn winded to really answer with anything fully comprehensible.

God it’s a good thing you heal quickly cause shit, your everything hurts.

When will this shit end! Huffing in irritation, you swiftly pull yourself up before joining the Avenging masses into the storm of chaos. You slay monster and beast of all kinds before Proxima of all beings throws her spear at your head, just narrowly putting a full damper on your already hectic day as you dodge left.

“Didn’t I kill you already?” You growl in irritation as she begins hand to hand combat with you, more so claws to sword then anything else. For the next minute do you two hash it out on the battlefield, Thanos and other brave Avengers doing what they can to fight the Infinity Stones off of him as you slice up her face in a moment of valuable weakness.

Unfortunately she’s able to kick you into the cement, raising her shimmering blood coated weapon before thrusting it downwards straight for your naked jugular when suddenly it turns to dust against your exposed skin. Eyes wide in bewilderment as you breath in heavy breaths, you’re pleasantly surprised when the bitch disappears completely, nothing left but ashes floating on the breeze.

Wiping some fresh blood from your nose, you slowly stand on sore legs, eyes quickly scanning the surrounding area only to find all of Thanos’ army turning to dust as well. A relieved smile falls upon your chapped lips, though quickly enough your heart sinks when you wander over to Steve and Thor as they watch Pepper say her last goodbyes to a dying Tony Stark. So he was the one who did it, he killed Thanos for good. And this is the price that must be payed.

Your chest rises and falls with labored breaths from battling the enemy as his reactor core flickers, white light slowly going out soon after. You frown deeply as Pepper sobs by her husbands side as you notice the others beginning to slowly gather around behind you, and the ones nearest to him. Peter, Rodney, Steve, and Thor.

The dismal scene breaks your heart to watch so instead do you drop your gaze to the ground where you study the ripped fabric of your pants and the dried blood that coats it. You can’t believe after all this shit and time spent tirelessly in pursuit of those fucking stones has the deed been done at last. Two friends lost in the taxing journey to save the world from a deepening pit of confusion and despair, but it’s done, and Thanos will never hurt anyone ever again.

You’re so tired you could probably curl up and fall asleep on the rocks below, but yet your body shakes with adrenaline that keeps you from submitting to the earth for a long rest.. “Y/N?” You freeze, going still as a statue when your ears fully register the voice it belongs to. You’d recognize that voice anywhere.

Blinking hard, you turn around, your eyes slowly trailing up to meet the beautiful blues of the one and only, James Buchanan Barnes. Your breath catches in your throat, it truly feels like your whole world has just stopped and reset itself. Tears immediately prick at the corners of your eyes from the intense feelings of being overwhelmed from battle and by him, he looks exactly the same as when he left you five whole years ago. Long dark hair falling to his broad shoulders, metal arm apparent as it shows itself freely in the cloudy sunlight.

His eyes of stormy ocean studies your awestruck expression, handsome face softening as he takes a cautious step forward, “Y/N.” Mutters Bucky as your lip begins to quiver, so many emotions rushing through you like a giant waterfall, a couple stray tears draw clean marks down the sides of your dirt smudged face as your heartbeat begins to race.

You feel like hyperventilating right now but are to astounded to completely lose your shit, instead do you let him silently walk the rest of the way to you before gently placing his hands against your tear stained cheeks. He hands you a handsome grin of pure love and adoration as you place your shaking hands against his forearms. So incredibly awestruck that he’s actually with you right now in the flesh for you to form a coherent sentence.

You swallow, eyes furrowed as they wander all over his beautifully dirty face, “Please tell me this isn’t some sick dream.” You whisper, voice raspy while you try and keep your inhales as less erratic as possible. “Oh God I hope this isn’t another dream.”

Bucky chuckles a sweet tune of joy before engulfing you into a ginormous Bucky bear hug, he gently wraps his strong arms around your tired vessel with ease, burying his head in the crook of your neck as tears flow freely out of you now. Shaky hands holding him as close and humanly possible while you breath him in for all he’s worth. Your Bucky, finally in your arms at last.

You can’t believe it, after everything you’ve endured, after a thousand nights spent alone and days lasting for too many hours to count. He’s holding you like his whole life depends on it, every single muscle and fiber of his entire being wills himself to hold you in his arms like nothing and no one else matters.

Because right now, in the midst of a desolated battlefield, you can finally feel at peace with the man you have never stopped loving for even a single second. The man you will swear on your life to never leave his side ever again if you can help it. Your sweet James Buchanan Barnes. Your beloved Bucky.

You can feel as a feather light kiss brushes past your hairline before he slowly pulls away, metal and flesh hands still holding yours as his blue eyes soften, “This isn’t a dream.” Chuckles Bucky as he studies your teary eyed face, a growing confusion clear on his puzzled features, “Why would this be a dream Y/N? I mean, well I’m not sure where we are actually or how I got here or why your hair looks different now....and uh...clothing too?” His brows furrow as he trails his gaze all over you, clearly unaware of the time differences between you both and what troublesome lengths it’s taken to see him again.

He doesn’t know. Biting your bottom lip anxiously, you blink with saddened eyes before resting a hand on his metal shoulder for a bit of self comfort, “How long until you came through those portals?”

Blue irises flicker to the ground in puzzlement before finding yours once again, “Uh, I think it was about five minutes actually....it’s, it’s weird. I remember seeing you by Steve and then, I don’t remember anything else until it felt like I blinked and suddenly these huge portals were appearing in Wakanda. And you weren’t with me. I don’t know what happened....I’m not sure why you look a little different now either?”

Smiling at his adorable confusion, you trail a hand up to drag it through his messy dark locks, “You weren’t gone for five minutes Bucky, you were gone for five years.”

His lips part likes he’s about to speak though nothing comes out, handsome face slowly falling into a frown while he gently touches the side of your bloodied cheek, “What?” Whispers Bucky in astonishment, “Five...five years? Five whole years? That’s why....that’s how....how you, Jesus Y/N...”

“You have no idea how much I missed you James....how much I, I...” Your throat feels like it’s tightening as you lip quivers, voice unable to produce any sounds but your labored breaths. You feel like bawling.

Bucky takes this like the dutiful lover that he is, pulling you flush against him once more as he gently squeezes you close, face pressed into your neck as he mumbles out a soft but meaningful, “I love you Y/N.” That causes you to almost crush him in your loving embrace.

“I love you too, so fucking much.”

——

Standing on the grassy edge of the Starks riverside house somewhere in upstate New York, dressed in your usual dark attire. Though for this instance, it’s a rather dismal affair that truly represents the black clothing adorning your body with more purpose this time. But you don’t feel as terrible as you thought you would have.

A soft late summer breeze blows your hair back as you keep your hands deep in your jacket pockets while you let yourself enjoy the beautiful view of the water shimmering in the sunlight. It truly couldn’t have been a nicer day for such a day filled with melancholy for the loss of Tony. In fact, when you arrived for the funeral today, you could barely look at Morgan without feeling the urge to shed a few tears.

She’s surprised you though, her little heart is stronger then you’d realized, she’s clearly filled with confused grief for the sudden loss of her father. But she’s admittedly able to handle the dreary situation better then you’d expected, though it is true we all grieve in our own way and in our own time. Luckily she has a plethora of friendly people by her side, plus your cat Silver who you let her adopt considering you’re technically homeless.

Soon the familiar sound of footsteps walking across the grass alerts you to a new presence approaching you nearby, you could smell his scent a mile away. The blue eyed man in question, stops by your side, eyes trailing over you while you keep a steady gaze on the water. “Y/N.” Your name on his tongue, spoken so gently as he forms your letters into a term of simple greeting.

A smile immediately tugs at the corner of your lips when he literally says anything now, you turn to face him as you raise a brow, imitating his tone, “Bucky.” You practically tease.

He flashes a quick grin before shrugging, eyes glancing up to the house before finding your undivided attention once more, “They made sloppy joes if you want one. They’re not too bad actually, I had one so....yeah.”

“I’ll take your word for it, but uh...I’m okay thanks.” You add, gaze set back onto the water beyond as you let out an admittedly tired sigh, “I’m just, I don’t even know.....whatever, I’m okay.” You mutter while giving a weak shrug, a frown crossing your features as your mind wanders to your lost friends and the reason why you’re even at this funeral. It’s been a long fucking road to peace, if this even is peace.

Bucky, noticing your disheartened expression, gently nudges your arm, “Hey, you know you can talk to me.” Assures your sweet lover, eyes softening as he gently tugs at your sleeve, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Making a sour face at the water, you avoid his gaze while your heart swirls with a conflicted sadness, “No. Not really.” You freely admit, “Both of them, I never got a chance to say goodbye. I wish I could have, I really do Buck.” Biting your lip to hold back the tears, Bucky wraps a comforting arm around you, knowing how much this all pains you since he’s been back and was filled in on everything that’s happened.

You don’t even hesitate to relax into the warm embrace as you throw an arm around his waist to bring him in even closer to you now, “Truth be told Y/N, I never got a chance to tell Tony how sorry I am for what I did to his parents. If there was onl...”

“He forgave you, Buck.” He shares a puzzled look with you.

“He did?” Whispers Bucky in confusion though a slight hopeful relief laces his words.

 You nod, “Tony...we had a long conversation about that when I was visiting once for some birthday party, it was a difficult subject. But after everything we talked about, he forgave you for what you did. Of course we had no way of knowing this was all going to happen but uh, I just want you to know that. And so did he even if you weren’t there to hear it. Guess it was the thought that counts.”

“oh.” Mutters Bucky in clear astonishment as he keeps silent for a long moment, truly processing the solid fact that Tony Stark actually forgave him for such horrendous crimes committed against his closest family members. Bucky lets out a heavy breath of relief, giving you a small squeeze before speaking, “That’s, that’s good. Yeah, alright um...” His eyes flicker to the side as he pauses for a brief moment, “..you, you want anything up there?”

Chuckling, you roll your eyes at him, “What? Let me guess? You’re still hungry and don’t want to eat alone?”

Bucky keeps silent for a brief but telling moment as he mumbles out a soft, “Yeah.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

He nervously laughs before gently squeezing your shoulder, “Or we don’t have to, it’s fine I was just wondering...”

“Buck.” You throw him a humored glance as he smiles before you lose your grip on his torso, “Come on hot stuff let’s get you a sandwich.” He grins as you start backing up towards the house filled with multiple guests of all kinds still socializing amongst one another.

“Y/N I could go myself if I wanted to.” Says Bucky as he wanders across the grass by your side, “I could....but yeah, I’d rather have you with me.”

You snicker quietly as his stubbled cheeks redden in slight embarrassment, “Well Mr. Barnes, if you must know, I don’t plan on letting you do anything alone for a long time so get used to my company.”

“Sounds good to me.” Smiles Bucky as he gently nudges your shoulder, “But seriously you gotta try these sandwiches they’re really good.”

“Buck, I don’t doubt it.”

-

Tagged:  @diegos-butt @minigranger @bibliophilewednesday @holyhumorliteraturelight @lilacs-lavender @a-girl-who-loves-disney @starkssnarks @vikingqueen28 @bizarrebibitch @atomicpersonacheesecake @jmstz @staygoldsquatchling02 @marvelbros-oneshots @shawnartmendes @mischiefmanaged71 @jckie94  @iamasimpingh0e @mjaudrey  @thescarlettvvitch

[namelesswolffreak]

"Boyfriends"

I've been working on this story concept for....3-4 years now and I've finally managed to work everything out to the point I'm confident in posting this little blurb of the main characters. So, I hope you enjoy and feel free to ask questions about them and their world.

Context: This takes place in a world of super powered people heavily inspired by MHA / Marvel / Miraculous. Waker (Way-kur) Atlas is Dare City's main hero who is put through quite a lot on a daily to weekly basis trying to beat the baddies and Cyrus Fauthrin is his infamous thief arch nemesis turned lover and best friend who causes trouble around the city just to get the Hero's attention.

--------------

The melancholy of the day was waning on Waker as he patrolled the quiet streets of one of Dare’s many neighborhoods which was quite unusual considering every seven seconds a villain was after his head. The sun was barely above the clouds, no one was really awake yet and the only thing that accompanied him was his footsteps as he jumped, hopped and skipped to the next platform he summoned under his feet. He happened to be bounding over Lay Wind Park, the foxes fast asleep in their dens to his disappointment, but the Hero Monuments were still a sight to behold in the early sunrise as they shone with brilliance in what little light was filtering over the surrounding hillsides.

The wind blew past his frizzed locks as he stood above the park near a tree in the shade, expression steeled and focused as he watched for signs of trouble as he waited for a certain someone to arrive. Today was uneventful and rather slow, the kind of day Waker preferred if he were being honest. Heaven knew being bored all day was ten times better than returning home to the countless kitchen sink surgeries he’d have to do with worn needles and his mother’s thread pinching into his skin as he sewed up bloodied wounds full of shrapnel and debris. Much better. The birds were chirping a happy, lazy song as they flew by on the breeze and the distant hum of an awakening city filled the natural ambiance of cicadas and crickets quite nicely as he watched and waited. He dare let out a sigh as the scene took hold of him fully, a warmth washing over him that he hadn’t felt in the recent weeks.

Which wouldn’t be for long as the rustling of tree leaves and a “Boo!” have him falling off of his platforms and hurtling towards the ground with an embarrassingly shrill scream.

“Waker!” A concerned voice follows as a blue blur dives after him.

Ground spiraling as he falls, Waker braces for impact, too late to conjure any platforms beneath him to break the fall so, he readies himself, waiting for the hurt and pain that would surely follow with some scrapes and bruises…………...But it never comes. He unscrunches his eyes and removes his arms from his head to see a blue, sparkling light surrounding him.

Irritation and embarrassment take over him immediately.

His face turns a copious amount of red as he’s carefully scooped up in pale arms that hold him close and, humiliatingly enough, in bridal style. Oh god no, he curses mentally, murmuring a soft “No…” into his shield of arms. This was so not how he wanted to show up in front of his partner after their long and grueling few weeks of not being able to see each other outside of villain fights and breaks in between their testing week.

The sudden warmth of a chest presses against his side and the delicate rhythm of a frantic heart race beneath his one hand as the other quickly grabs for his cape to hide his strawberry cheeks. There was no way in hell he was letting ‘he knew who’ see him in such a state, there was no possible way he could let the witch-like thief catch him like this. A brave hero didn’t get scared or spooked by rustling leaves and the word boo! Absolutely absurd! Though a voice in the back of his mind said he already had.

“You are such a fucking clutz, I swear.” And a huge scaredy cat, the blue-clad ravenette doesn’t say aloud, but his tone implies anyways. “I should take you to my ballet classes sometime, maybe then you’d actually learn some balance.” The comment only makes him clutch the soft fabric tighter around himself.

He’s loathing the thought of unveiling himself now, but he knows he’s been caught, his normally stoic or serious persona now broken and practically burned away as he knows his cape isn’t doing much to hide his warm face or the tenseness of his grip. Plans to forever sink himself into a hole where nobody could possibly ever find him again after this mess are shortly abandoned for now and gaining courage Waker swallows the huge lump in his throat and tries to cleverly reply. “H-hey, what’s a-....What’s up, Witch Boy?” And he knows the intended playfulness doesn’t go through as he’s met with a narrowed glare.

The other isn’t amused. “Witch boy, really? Did I actually scare you that badly that you lost a couple of brain cells?”

“Shu-shut up, Cyrus!” He defends as this “Cyrus” just sighs at him, though his stare more sly than pointed now.

“Get out of that stupid thing so I can see your face.” He says with a tremble in his voice that Waker can definitely tell is laughter, the prick. “Or I’ll totally drop you again.” And like hell he will, Waker knows, but he takes the threat seriously nonetheless and loosens his grip on the cape just enough to see the Ravenette’s brilliant and ever playful smile.

For a moment Waker just stares and admires him, those brilliant blues sparkling, no, literally sparkling as he says something Waker doesn’t catch. The sun is framing his face so perfectly in the light, highlighting those perfectly red cheeks he would love to kiss every morning, and the slight upturn of his lips as he smiles down in reverence at him, and the slow flutter of his lashes that compliment his features nicely. Though braided off to the side Cyru’s hair never fails to make him look so ethereal as the gentle morning breeze brushes back his loose strands. Waker swears it looks like its made up of space itself when he lets it go during the night time, convincing himself he can see stars within the strands when he stands beneath the moonlight. It doesn’t take much to make the hero swoon regarding his partner nowadays. Daydreams of peaceful nights alone on the couch watching movies together after his nightmares keep him awake and alert run through his mind, or the times Cyrus has saved him from getting beaten to a pulp and they spent hours talking over stitching him back together about nothing at all, and every single time Cyrus has stuck up for him at school, reminding him of the warmth this person carries with them and all the love and affection he’s constantly showered in when they’re together. It’s strange how much Cyrus has changed over the past few months from raging emo to ride or die friend, but he wouldn’t change it for the world. He doesn’t even try to stop the lofty sigh that escapes his lips as more dear memories cross his mind.

And Cyrus is all too quick to recognize that dumb look on his face.

“Oh, hell no!” Is the only warning he gets before being promptly dropped, this time no blue aura to save him from hitting the dirt below, landing with a thud. “Not this early in the morning!” Though Waker could have sworn Cyrus was sharing the same look with him not minutes prior.

“Ow! Why’d you drop me, asshole!?”

Cyrus cocks his hips as he floats there, his wide brimmed conical now covering his eyes in an intimidating manner, making him way more menacing than he should considering his current attire. “Oh please, don’t even act like you’re hiding that stupid look on your face, Idiot! I ain’t dealing with your whole sappy dappy act this early in the morning.”

By “sappy dappy” Waker knows exactly what he’s referring to and scowls accordingly. Apparently, holding hands and having morning cuddles while complimenting everything about Cyrus is considered sappy and lovingly disgusting. Well at least to some people, it’s called affection and admiration!

“It’s a look that means I like you, asswipe!” Waker shoots back, malice nowhere to be found in his tone though, barring more on playfulness.

“Do you think I’m in love with you or something!?”

And they then stand there -well float there- in silence, both looking each other in the eyes, narrowed brows testing the other to make the next move or say the next snappy comment. And for a moment it looks as if the words really have cut too deep, but Waker isn’t one to remain serious for long as his shoulders begin to shake, prompting the other to clutch his stomach and stifle a grin as their eyes water over with laughter.

“Oh, no, not me, I could never.” Waker quips, leaning back and hugging both his arms, not caring for the dirt now caking his suit. Cyrus is quick to come back with his own natural snark.

“Pfft, as if! Absolutely not. Me and you, the orange haired frizz ball who kicks my ass more than twice a week over that one time I stole a candy bar? You gotta be fucking with me!” He bellows, Waker taking note of the boy flipping upside down where he floats in the air, his face a contortion of joy and happiness as his ripped dress flows with the wind.

He finds the display rather adorable, recalling that such a thing only occurred by accident when the thief was getting emotional. His inept ability to control his powers never failed to amuse the Hero. The little wrinkle of his nose didn’t quiet his thoughtful admiration either as he blushed in between bouts of giggles.

"I wouldn't have time to be your lover anyways!"

“It’s only 6am, when can I admire my boyfriend so it fits within your busy schedule?”

And the laughter is immediately quieted, a heavy silence filling the air, even the crickets and cicadas falling victim to it. The world is waiting in bated breath as if listening to the drama unfold.

Waker holds in a breath. Oh shit, oh fuck, he really fucked it up this time! Way to go, Atlas, you really did a number on today!

…………

………….

“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to, I just did-”

“It’s ok……” Cyrus breaths out, taking a long drag of air before finally finishing. “It’s….ok.” He manages to lower himself to the ground, dress falling at his sides, and crosses his arms in doing so. “We’re-I’m going to have to get used to it eventually.” He shrugs. “Right?”

There’s a weight to his words as Cyrus steps closer to the redhead that Waker recognizes near immediately. They’ve had this talk before, a talk that has led to a misunderstanding or two between them in the past and a verbal fight at that. The term “Boyfriend.” It was a touchy subject to say the least and while it had been a challenge for even Waker himself to start using it, it also seemed Cyrus was struggling to accept the lofty title. A long time ago before the two even met, the word had a different meaning to it for them both, but Waker had long since come to terms with it himself, but understood Cyrus’ hesitation in saying the word freely. He considered his next words carefully.

“I know you don’t exactly like the ter-”

“It’s not that I don’t like it Waker…..”

“I know, Cy, but.” Failing to put his thoughts into words Waker scrambles forward to catch Cyrus’ hands in his own, pecking each delicately, square on the knuckles, gauging his reaction whilst he does so. When Waker is met with a soft smile, he returns it, though his much softer and kinder in Cyrus’ eyes. “I shouldn’t have said it when you’re not ready. Just because I moved past it doesn’t mean you have.” Noticing his smile slipping he clumsily adds in, “And that’s ok! Really, it’s ok and I mean, and I love you and-uh, I get it and I mean I just say boyfriend because that’s what everyone else says, expects- wait no- I didn’t mean to phrase it like that uh-I don’t really get the need for a title for what we have anyways, like so dumb right!?”

Followed by more ridiculous rambling that has Cyrus covering his mouth trying not to giggle. It’s a nervous habit that has come to amuse the thief to no end. “And-it not like it means anything to us, its just there for other people so they know that um, we, us, you and I are an um item I guess wow that was cheesy and dumb and I am so sorry that you have to put up with me oh god I’m rambling and no, don’t look at me like that. I’m doing the thing again aren’t I-” Shaking with laughter again Cyrus has to put a hand on his shoulder to get him to shut up because he knows if he doesn’t Waker could go on well into the night and has before. It didn’t help that he could feel the tremble of the others fingers, realizing Waker was going to throw himself into an anxiety attack if he didn’t.

“Waker!” And Waker promptly closes his mouth, panic clear in his eyes that Cyrus quickly combats by brushing strands of orange out of his face and behind his ear. “Just take a deep breath.” And Waker does, following the instruction intently. “And let it out, slowly.” And Waker follows that too, looking that much calmer as Cyrus pulls him closer. “Slowly.” He rubs his thumbs over Waker’s hands. The trembling is still present, but less so. “There you go.” And doesn’t stop telling him to breath calmly until he feels Waker’s grip relax in his own.

Delicately and softly, each flyaway is combed back into place only to immediately pop out again, but Waker appreciates the sentiment anyways and Cyrus has no problem being given an excuse to keep combing through such lovely soft tufts. He loves the soft mane of fluff on his partner’s head that even since their first meeting has remained as untamed and wild as ever. -Such a shame he always ties it back when he’s on duty though- It just adds to the contrast between his actual self and hero persona, the sweet and endearing ball of anxiety vs the serious and battle ready hero of Dare city who couldn’t catch a break. And he wouldn’t be ashamed to admit to which one he preferred.

“You don’t need to tell me-er.” Waker quickly corrects, trying not to sound patronizing. “I don’t need you to explain yourself Cy. You-we don’t need to have a name if that’s what you want, that’s what I’m trying to say. Official or unofficial or whatever, I won’t treat you any different.”

“I know Waker. I…..I really want to call you that, just I-.......I just like what we have right now and-”

Waker just pecks him on the cheek quickly and pulls away to pat at a spot on the ground, looking longingly back up at him. A soundless “You don’t want to lose me.” goes unsaid as Cyrus complies, Waker taking the shorter one in his arms once more.

It wasn’t a matter of Cyrus being afraid to commit, though maybe it was, not even he was sure of what was going with himself anymore, but a fear that the wonderful friendship he’d built up with the hero would end or change or just not be the way it is now because they suddenly started calling each other boyfriends. He’s had it happen one too many times at this point, every one of his previous “boyfriends” changing everything once they started dating, acting as if kissing and romantic outings were supposed to be their only interactions from now on. They were no longer interested in the random silly things he found on the internet or just hanging out doing whatever, but were interested in using him, his body, parading him around and rubbing it in peoples faces, being denied having fun if it wasn’t their idea of “fun” and more. Cyrus' stomach curls remembering being ignored for weeks to months at a time because he wasn’t feeling up to being in bed with them or awkwardly sitting off to the side while his one boyfriend at the time showed him off to his friends and bragged. It was the same guy who he used to play videogames and eat cookies with on the weekends, talking about anything and everything…...It hurts him to realise there probably was never a friendship there to begin with. Just an elaborate ruse to get him into bed at some point.

And that was one thing Cyrus feared when they had held hands for the first time after awkwardly admitting to harboring feelings for each other after the high of a fight they were forced to join sides on. Never had the thief felt more relieved that his feelings were reciprocated, but also more scared that he had just ruined the one healthy relationship he managed to make in those many months spent together.

Cyrus removes his hat and huddles under Waker’s chin, placing his head right on his heart that gives out a steady, comforting rhythm and brightens when the taller of the two puts his head on him in return. No, Cyrus thinks, this is different.

A long silence falls between them as they cuddle in each other's arms, just watching the sun come up. Basking in each other’s presence, taking in the warmth of their bodies pressed together in this nice early morning, and relishing in the calm which was far and few in between with their double lives and they were thankful. There’s no need to exchange words now as a quiet understanding befalls them both.

It’s only after the sun seems to peak at the crest of the hillsides does Waker make himself heard again.

“Is that why you dropped me?” And Cyrus blinks for a quick second, processing the question before understanding and then playfulness cross his expression.

“No it’s because you’re a dunce.” He huffs. “And fucking heavy as hell.”

Waker chooses to ignore that last bit. “But I’m your dunce.” He boops his nose.

“Damn, straight you are.” And Cyrus retaliates with a kiss on his.

Boyfriend or just “friend who I like to kiss and hold hands with sometimes”, Waker loves him and Cyrus doesn’t doubt that for a second.

[thetriggeredhappy]

Consider: the scene in the comics where Scout dies, but instead it's Spy who's dying and he actually has the balls to tell Scout the truth face-to-face before it's too late.

consider: this shit is gonna break your heart, anon. dad!spy hours

(warnings for canon-typical violence, extreme character injury, major character death)

-

Just his luck that he’d find himself alone with so many of those ridiculous robots and with his knee so destroyed. He at least managed to take down the one that finally got him.

These tin cans didn’t even know enough to understand how to efficiently kill someone, he seethed. He’d certainly be bleeding out shortly—he was fairly sure he had a punctured lung, among other things, but the blood loss would probably be what did him in—but god, it was taking forever.

He could take some solace in that he at least didn’t drag Sniper to die along with him, had sent him to try and pick off as many bots as he could from the windows. And... well, he was fairly sure he’d been as useful as he could have been in this fight. Helped kill one of the Classic team—two, if you counted throttling his own counterpart—and done some good recon work besides. This wasn’t the most poetic or heroic death, but he wasn’t a fan of poetry and had never considered himself much of a hero, so that was probably fair.

But that stupid robot had ruined his jacket, which he was pretty annoyed about. Not like it would matter in the long run, but frustrating regardless.

God, it was cold.

He lifted his head when he heard the sound of rapid footfalls echoing down the hall, growing closer. Hey, maybe he could trick some robot into finishing him off, at least. Save himself some time and excruciating pain. He would’ve gone for the cyanide tooth, but unfortunately, this was the one situation where he’d jumped for that option a little bit too early. Just his luck.

(God, it was cold.)

Oh, well. Bludgeoned to death by a Scoutbot at least promised to be relatively quick. They tended to go for the head.

He looked up to at least give a snide remark to his more rapidly-approaching death, only for them to get stuck in his throat as the death in question rounded the corner and made eye contact with him.

“Holy shit, Spy?” Scout asked, looking startled and a little out of breath.

“Merde,” Spy mumbled, and was a little caught off guard by how hoarse his voice was.

In a second Scout had taken a knee next to him and was surveying the damage, mouth running at a mile a minute. “Holy shit we were lookin’ everywhere, Sniper showed up because I guess he was dead but now he’s better apparently and he said you two split off for some reason but you’d been fuckin’ kneecapped and—dude, you look like shit, what happened?”

“What does it look like?” Spy asked dryly.

“I mean, I don’t wanna give you an ‘I told you so’ or nothin’ but this is kinda what you get for disappearing and running off on your own all the time,” Scout pointed out.

He almost couldn’t feel the tiny ache of guilt that put in his chest underneath all the other much more life-threatening aches that were also in his chest. “Well, I’d say I’ve learned my lesson, but I think unfortunately I won’t be able to demonstrate any time soon,” Spy replied, and yeah, there was a puncture to his lung. He had to fight hard to hold down a cough, and only because he knew it would sound extremely pathetic.

“Okay, uh—can you move? Okay, you can’t move,” Scout seemed to decide. “Uh, okay, okay so I’ll uh—so I’m gonna go get Medic, and—he’s fast too we should be able to get back here in like ten minutes flat, easy! Just, I guess try and hold your guts in, I’ll be right back with help!”

Considering the amount of injured Medic was likely to be, he very much doubted Scout would be back with Medic in only ten minutes. And considering the way that his vision was swimming and how distorted Scout’s face got towards the tail end of that last sentence, he doubted he would make it ten minutes anyways.

And he found unexpected panic suddenly rising up in his chest at the thought of dying alone, here in a hallway surrounded by broken mechanical parts and acrid smoke. He forced himself into motion despite the way it made the entire room suddenly seem to careen to the left, and managed to catch Scout by the leg of his ridiculous trousers before he could take off again. “Wait,” he croaked. “Wait.”

“I, no, I gotta go get Medic, I’ll take like ten seconds—“ Scout was quick to assure, so quick that Spy realized he was legitimately worried.

“I’ll—“ Spy started, and paused to clear his throat just to give himself enough time to think of an excuse to have Scout stick around for a minute. “I’ll be fine to wait a little longer, but first I had something important to say.”

Scout frowned. “Yeah?”

And he did. He absolutely did. The problem was that this excuse was... hm.

The problem was that this was something he’d been putting off. The larger part of the situation for about 20 years, and then more directly for about six. And Spy thought that surely he would work up the courage to get to it over the course of their employment, only for it to be unexpectedly terminated, and he decided, well, that was that. He would just have to live with it. But then they got arrested and the thought that surely he would get to it over the course of their time in prison, and once again he didn’t, couldn’t seem to force himself into that conversation, not when he was trapped, not when he couldn’t run from whatever outcome ended up happening.

And now he was dying. And for all he knew, Scout was going to die shortly as well. And in most of the ways that mattered, Spy was the only person who could really answer this question, because apparently Scout’s mother had committed to the lie he’d asked her to tell, had continued to stay headstrong on helping to cover up how he’d faked his death. And how was she to know he was really dead, surely Scout would never bring it up—

If he didn’t tell Scout now, Scout would never know.

Scout would go the rest of his life never getting answers about his father.

“Merde,” he mumbled again, slumping back against the wall and squeezing his eyes shut against the way the world was spinning, feeling motion sick.

He heard Scout take a knee again, and after a second he hesitantly prompted him. “Uh, what? What is it? What’s up?” he asked carefully.

Spy forced himself to open his eyes, and was a little startled by how difficult it was. He focused hard on one of his own shoes, trying his best to make the world stop spinning so fast. He swallowed hard to try and clear his throat, steady his voice. It almost worked. “This is very important,” he started with, and forced sharpness into his tone. “So I will not be needing any of your little jokes and quips and interruptions.”

“Y... yeah, okay,” Scout said, and the worry was extremely easy to read on his face, and Spy kind of hated that.

Spy considered his words. “You’ve mentioned before that you never knew your father,” he decided to open with. Scout immediately began to frown. “And... and I never said anything. Even though that was a very brave thing to bring up.”

Scout opened his mouth to reply before remembering himself and shutting it again.

“And I wanted to apologize,” Spy managed to choke, and he kept track of Scout’s expressions in his periphery, finding it easier to hold on to that way than by trying to look at him directly. “Because you’re never going to get the chance to know your father, not really. Not in the way you deserve, and it’s my fault.“

“Spy, what the fuck does that even mean?” Scout demanded, and maybe the anger starting to flood into his voice was fair. “You—what did you do?”

“You deserved to have a father,” Spy said, and it couldn’t have been more obvious that he was dodging the question, but maybe he wanted to be obvious, just for a minute. “A good one, who did all sorts of ridiculous fatherly things for you. And it’s not your fault that you didn’t. You deserved to. You did.”

God, it was cold.

“And he should have been there for you, and for your family,” Spy continued, and felt his stomach lurch unexpectedly, and had to shut his jaw tight for a moment, tight enough to feel his fake teeth aching. “And he should have supported them and been a good father, and your life should have been made much more easy than it was, and you should not have needed to get in fights and become a criminal in the first place, and you should never have needed to sign up to become a murderer in some terrible desert in New Mexico among a pack of assassins and madmen.”

“Spy, I, I should get Medic—“ Scout tried to cut in, moved as if to stand back up. Spy snared a hand in the front of Scout’s shirt, and though he knew full well that he wasn’t strong enough to actually stop Scout in any capacity, he froze up anyways.

“And—and I know that you deserved a real father, and I knew that,” Spy said, “and I know there is no excuse that can ever be given. There is nothing that I can ever say to make it up to you, or to your mother, or your brothers, nothing. And I should have been there but I was scared and I was convinced I was being hunted and I cared too much about all of you to let that happen because of me, and it was selfish—“

“Spy,” Scout said, and it took all the strength that Spy had just to look at him, and there were a lot of emotions on his face just then. He saw realization, for one. Shock, astonishment maybe.

And for the first time in maybe his entire life, Spy decided that he just needed to be honest. 

“I’m your father, Jeremy,” Spy croaked.

Silence. Long, long silence. In the far distance, gunshots and explosions and yelling, soft enough that he couldn’t be sure it wasn’t his imagination.

“You gonna try and say some kind of cool line, now, too?” Scout asked, and his voice was sharp enough to sting, and Spy winced at it. “Some kind of bullshit about how it, it was for my own good? Or that it’s—that you always cared from far away or some shit, that it was better this way? Gonna ask me to fuckin’ forgive you, here on your deathbed?”

“No, I am not,” Spy replied, voice faint. ���I know there is nothing I can say to make it up to you. Words are insufficient.” He breathed deeply and forced down the instinct that was telling him to cough. “But I would rather not leave you wondering forever. I thought... this was better than nothing.”

Scout made a noncommittal noise. Silence.

“I get the distinct impression that you are angry with me,” Spy managed.

“Duh, I’m mad at you. Jesus fuck, you have no clue how mad I am at you. But I’m not...” Scout paused to think over his words. “I’m not mad at you, I’m mad at... old you. The you who ran off. And... I dunno. Kinda seems like you hate that guy too.”

“Very much,” Spy confirmed.

“Yeah. I dunno. I guess... I dunno.” Scout paused for a long moment. “And... maybe this is better than nothing, I guess. Because... it’s not the same or nothin’, but... I dunno. At least I know now. And... at least I know what my dad’s like now. That’s something.” 

Silence. Spy managed a nod, but not words.

When Scout spoke again, his voice was uncharacteristically level. “You’re gonna die here, aren’t’cha, Spy?”

“Oui. I have no doubt in my mind,” Spy sighed, so quietly that he wasn’t sure Scout could hear it.

Scout was quiet for a minute. He moved to pull Spy’s hand off of his shirt (not that it was difficult), and for one terrifying moment Spy thought he was about to just drop Spy’s hand and stand up and leave him to rot in some hallway on an uncharted island where he would never be found. His vision was darkening rapidly, and he didn’t think he had the strength to try and stop him again, or that it would even work.

But instead Scout clasped Spy’s hand in his own and held it tight to his chest, squeezing Spy’s shoulder beneath his hand. “Run hell, asshole,” Scout said with the slightest of smiles, and it was so like Scout to be joking just then, to be trying to comfort him just then even if it was in his own way, to find the most indirect, roundabout method of letting Spy know that things were okay. And it made Spy laugh, and laughing was the last thing that Spy remembered.

-

He saw the last of the color drain from Spy’s face, the way the muscles there slowly went slack, and after a long moment he moved the hand from Spy’s shoulder to check for a pulse. He shifted to try again three times, not positive he was doing it right, before realizing, no. He was definitely doing this right. Spy was dead.

He let his own hand drop, then carefully laid down Spy’s.

Man. Twenty-seven fuckin’ years, and he finally finds his dad, and it’s Spy. He shouldn’t have been surprised that Spy would find a way to escape that kind of conversation and never look back, but he was a little surprised that his solution was apparently dying.

...

That wasn’t that funny.

Scout leaned back, scrubbed at his face with his hand, forcing himself to take a few deep breaths. Conflicted emotions. Conflicted thoughts.

Jesus, he should’ve seen it. That dumb dream he’d had back at Heavy’s house when he’d almost died, the stupid jokes Spy kept making about his Ma and the suspicious amount of information Spy had about him, way more than was probably on any official record. And the weird shit Heavy had been saying to him, and all the times Spy stuck his neck out for him when he really didn’t have to—

He didn’t think it was obvious enough for him to guess, but it was definitely obvious enough to suspect.

...So being an asshole ran in the family, huh?

He sat back on his heels.

...His Ma always said they had similar eyebrows. And their eyes in general, apparently. Ears. The mask made it kinda hard to tell.

The mask.

For a few seconds, Scout really genuinely considered taking the mask off.

This was his dad. Ma apparently lost the few pictures she had of him years ago, and this was his only chance. If he didn’t look now, he’d never really know what his dad looked like. Not in a real way. And didn’t he deserve to know? Hadn’t he earned this?

But he couldn’t, and he knew he couldn’t. That was a kind of disrespect he couldn’t stoop to, not even to a dead guy.

He didn’t know why, but he felt himself tearing up.

If he made it out of this alive, he made a promise to himself. He was gonna talk to Miss P—those two were friends, right?—and he was gonna find out more about Spy. He’d hire a private eye if he had to, he’d spend every penny of his Tom Jones money figuring out everything he could. Spy hadn’t given him a lot to work with, but it was something. It was enough.

He wiped his eyes, rocked forward to stand, shook himself. For a second he thought about getting Medic, seeing if he could work his magic, but he’d only seen Sniper for a minute, only long enough for him to say that coming back to life was a one-time deal. He took a deep breath and turned, starting to walk down the hallway. Running off felt wrong just then.

Maybe God was looking out for him, just then, because that meant he hadn’t turned the corner down the hall, which meant he heard the feeble little cough behind him and could turn around, could see that Spy had a hand lifted.

A pause to process.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Scout scathed in the angriest voice he could manage, even as he felt tears leap into his eyes.

[arcanadreams]

If you’ve played Chapter 12 of Sweet Elite, then you know what went down. Today I am here to humbly attempt to give us what we all want: A MISTLETOE SCENE WITH THE RIGHT PERSON!! WOO!

ANYWAY, here you go!! I hope you guys enjoy. I’ve only romanced Alistair so some others may be ooc but let’s hope not. Putting these under a cut because I’m assuming this is gonna get long!

Alistair:

As soon as he got back with your punch, the crowd around you guys started giggling and pointing. You two just looked at each other and shrugged. That was when they started yelling to kiss.

“What? Why?- Oh.” You finally spotted the mistletoe above the two of you. “There’s a mistletoe, Al! I couldn’t see it behind your head. You’re too tall.” That made both of you laugh.

“Really? Sorry,” he rubbed the back of his neck. The crowd had gotten bored of you both by that point. You took too long, and high schoolers have the attention span of a pigeon.

Having noticed no one was looking anymore, you quickly planted a kiss on Al’s cheek. He turned bright red immediately, holding a hand to his cheek. “What was that for? I mean, I really liked it-”

“The mistletoe!” You beamed at him and he felt like his heart could’ve exploded. He smiled back at you, taking your hand and giving it a squeeze. He was very glad he asked you to the party.

Tadashi:

If you think this man would kiss you in front of a crowd, I’m afraid you are sorely mistaken. I think the most PDA you’d get from Mr. Professional would be him jumping off a bridge after you if you happened to fall off.

So when the crowd starts yelling for him to kiss, he simply rolls his eyes. “That’s not going to happen! Stop shouting, you’ll get us all caught.” A few people called him lame, but no one really had an argument. If y’all didn’t want to kiss, so be it!

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t disappointed. You were, like, super disappointed. You had been wanting to kiss this man since Halloween night! That’s two whole months of staring at his lips! And for what!

You were a bit bummed, but the excitement of spending the rest of the party with Tadashi brought your mood back up. You had almost forgotten about the mistletoe incident entirely until he walked you back to your dorm.

“I had a really great time tonight,” you smiled at him. He blushed, returning your happy expression. “So did I...” And then he did something you didn’t expect. He took your hand in his, bringing it up to his mouth and kissing your knuckles. “I apologize for the mistletoe incident...I’d rather kiss you at a time more special than that.”

OH. OKAY COOL. THANKS. You two said goodnight and you blushed all the way until you fell asleep. Nerd.

Raquel:

She catches on to the hype of the crowd, but she doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable or move too fast. She’s about to tell you just that, but when she turns to you she sees that you’re not as hesitant as she assumed you’d be.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you for months,” you’re nervous, but so giddy at the prospect of getting to kiss your crush that your feelings just rush out. You didn’t know what you expected Raquel’s response to be, but the huge smile that spread across her face was clearly the best option.

This girl absolutely dips you to give you a kiss. The crowd goes wild. She is milking it. She has spent way too much time with Axel. It’s a really good kiss, though. So good you barely even register the crowd noise. 

When you’re both back upright and you pull away, you’ve got stars in your eyes. You��re so happy you feel like your heart could explode right out of your chest. 

“Definitely the best party I’ve ever thrown,” Raquel winks at you, and smiles to herself when you burst into flattered laughter. “Agreed.”

Tyler:

Also starts yelling “kiss! kiss!” before realizing that it is, in fact, you two being told to do that. Oh. Well, in that case...

Gives you a really cheesy wink, one that makes you snort, before taking both your hands in his. His expression changes to be really serious. “If you want to kiss, that’s fine by me. More than fine. Awesome, even. But if you don’t want to kiss right now, that’s also cool. Kissing in front of people isn’t for everybody.”

He’s. So. Sweet! Oh my God! “A consent king,” you joke, and the two of you snicker. “But, seriously, I would love to kiss you.” “Really?” He looks absolutely giddy at the prospect. “Really.”

And so you two kissed. It was short, but super sweet. You both smiled through the whole thing. Ahh, you’re too cute! You get a few cheers and hollers from the crowd as you pull away. Tyler has a mind to scream “Thank you!” to both them and the heavens for letting him finally be able to smooch you, but he restrains himself.

“Would you want to do that again?” You ask him when the two of you go back to dancing. “Anytime, anywhere.”

Claire:

Mmm no. This would just not do. A bunch of people yelling at Claire will never do, even if they aren’t being mean. And based on the panicked look on her face, all that commotion is deemed illegal under the “everyone must be nice to Claire at all times” law. You leap into action quickly.

“Hey, hey! Leave us alone! If it’s so important someone kiss, do it yourselves!” You shout over everyone. You get a few boos, but you just roll your eyes and take Claire’s hand, leading her out of the room.

You take her back to your dorm, away from all noise. “How about we just stay here for a while?” You offer. She nods, smiling at you. “Thank you. That was very brave of you to stand up for us like that. I froze up.” 

“And that’s perfectly okay. Anyone would have. I just hated seeing you like that; I knew I had to do something.” You sat down next to her, on the edge of your bed. She leaned over and unexpectedly kissed your cheek.

“We may not have had a mistletoe kiss, but I hope that shows my gratitude.” NO ONE PERSON IS ALLOWED TO BE THIS CUTE. You blush and smile, giving her a nod, before the two of you start talking about how excited you are for the group vacation the next day.

Axel: 

More annoyed than anything. Since it’s him, there’s even more excitement than there would be if literally anyone else was under the mistletoe. Shuts that shit down immediately.

He glares at the crowd before telling them to calm down and leave you two alone. You’re torn between sad you didn’t get to kiss him and happy all the peer pressure to do so is gone. 

Honestly, after that Axel doesn’t seem that into the party. You feel bad. Was it your fault? I mean, probably not...but maybe you could’ve handled it better? Hm...

“You wanna get out of here?” He offers, knocking you out of your thoughts. You agree, and you both head to his dorm. “You seemed out of it back there,” he observes.

“I was just...worried I did something wrong and upset you,” you twiddled your thumbs, looking at the floor. Suddenly his shoes were in your view, and he was standing right in front of you. 

“I don’t think you could ever upset me,” he puts a hand on your shoulder as you look up, squeezing gently. “I was just mad at everyone there for pressuring you. I didn’t want to be in the same room as them anymore. I never want you to be uncomfortable like that. I’m used to large crowds screaming at me, but I don’t want you to have to be.”

“So it wasn’t me? Or that you didn’t want to kiss me?” “God, no,” he replied instantly, no hesitation needed. “I’d love to kiss you. Just not with all those people around.” “Well...what about right now?”

Take a guess what happens sjdssgffkdsfj

Karolina:

Completely immune to peer pressure from anyone she doesn’t respect. All the shouting has practically no effect on her. Her reaction is similar to Axel’s, except far more subdued.

“Oh, stop it. It’s not happening,” she pinches the bridge of her nose in a move that kind of reminds you of Tadashi. Those two do tend to have similar body language. Not wanting to deal with the ice queen’s wrath, as well as seeing that no kiss was coming, people lose interest.

“Sorry about that,” Karol says, when you two move to chat in the corner over punch. “It’s no problem! You handled it just as gracefully as I assumed you would.” If there is one compliment she wasn’t expecting, it was to be called “graceful” for dispersing a crowd. She loved it. She was blushing before she even realized it.

“What? It’s true,” you smirked as you took a sip of punch. She looked away, trying futilely to hid her burning cheeks. “Plus, I think first kisses are better when they’re in a more romantic setting. Maybe we’ll get to do that someday?”

Karol lifts her punch to her mouth, seemingly trying to hide in a dignified way, before locking eyes with you. “If you’re lucky,” she replied, smiling despite herself.

Tegan:

Ew. Not a fan of all the peer pressure going on here. Glared at the gathering crowd. “Stop that. Leave us alone.” He was a whole lot more stern than usual! You knew he could be like that when he was especially upset or passionate, especially after what happened at Faxion. 

“Why don’t we go?” You suggested, voice soft. He sighed and agreed. You took his hand in yours, and he quickly intertwined you guys’ fingers as you left the room. You both decided to head to his dorm to get away from the chaos.

“Sorry,” he looked a bit skittish when you arrived. “What are you saying sorry for? You handled that well! You showed major guts out there!” You smiled at him, sitting down on one of the bean bags. He sat down next to you on the carpet, blushing at your praise.

“Thanks. I just...I really wanted everything to go perfectly at that party. It’s important to me that tonight goes well.” He looked into your eyes, clearly worried he had ruined your night.

“Tegan, literally any time spent with you is perfect. We could be doing math homework right now and I’d still be ecstatic. As long as I get to spend it with you, no matter where, tonight will be my favorite I’ve spent on campus.”

Oop- was that too much? You couldn’t tell. You were about to apologize when Tegan surged forward and hugged you. Oh. Looks like it wasn’t. “You’re the best, Y/N.”

Neha:

Freezes up when everyone starts demanding you two kiss. It’s not like she doesn’t want to, just...not now! She gives you a bit of a deer in the headlights look while you both desperately look for a way out of the situation. 

Spending a night with your crush has absolutely fried your brain, so you do the first thing that comes to mind. Point at something shiny. “Whoa! Look at that!” You point towards the window, at nothing in particular, in hopes your peers will think you actually saw something. To your surprise, the majority of people fell for it! Maybe their brains were fried, too. Probably from finals.

Neha can’t stop herself from laughing at your awful plan, continuing to giggle as the both of you make your escape. You guys go back to her room, closing the door behind you before collapsing into another fit of laughter.

“I’m sorry! I couldn’t think of anything else! I just wanted to get you out of there!” You wipe a tear from your eye as you both begin to recover your breath.

“I don’t know how that worked,” the girl next to you rolled her eyes. “But I’m very happy it did.” She lifted your still-joined hands, kissing the back of yours. You blushed beet-red. “Thank you, Y/N.”

Ellie:

Making Y/N uncomfortable is illegal. And the crowd yelling at you sure as hell seemed to be making you uncomfortable. So Ellie put her foot down. “Alright, alright! Stop it!” She’d brandish her screwdriver as a weapon if she weren’t still on Arlington property.

But, luckily for her, the crowd dispersed quickly after her outburst. You let out a sigh of relief, and she wrapped an arm around your shoulders. You could feel her concerned eyes looking you over.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” “Yeah. That just made me really nervous. Do you think we could go somewhere quiet?” “Absolutely!” She agreed immediately. “How about we play some Honeydew Valley? Tegan will totally let me borrow his Swatch.” (ajsgaksjdgsj i love coming up with weird names for stuff like they do in-game)

“That sounds great.” God, she always knew just what to do. You loved that about her. After asking Tegan for permission and getting set up in her dorm, you two settled down. You had a whole lot of fun playing together. You mar or may not have even married your farmers in co-op ohohoho...

“Thank you for changing your plans so last minute,” you mumbled as the night got later, your head having rested itself on her shoulder at some unknown point in the gaming session. “No worries, Y/N! Anything is fun when I do it with you.” 

“Really?” You lifted your head. “Bet,” she replied, and kissed your nose. You nearly died. “Next time let’s make it a real one, hm?” Okay, then you did die, all while she laughed and beat your farmer at the egg hunt.

[theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin]

Yeah, so I read your HP headcanons/analysis and I found it really well put. I was wondering about your thoughts on Dumbledore and who he really was as a person. (It’s okay if you don’t really want to reply :> )

We’re just getting all up into The Carnivorous Muffin headcanon land, aren’t we?

Well, this one’s probably obvious to anyone who reads my work.

I fall on the manipulative Dumbledore side of things and then some. Dumbledore is not only a bastard man but is a raging misogynist and extremely classist (which is funny because I don’t see too many people calling him out for those last two when to me canon all but shouts it at you). 

Basically, what it comes down to, is even taken in very good faith I simply cannot read Dumbledore’s actions as benign in pretty much every single goddamn decision he makes ever.

God, where do I even start here? I guess we can go chronologically.

Well, there was Dumbledore’s Wizard Nazi youth with an oddly Dorian Gray flare to it with Gellert. I think it’s fairly obvious why Dumbledore’s not exactly... good there so I’m going to skip past it. Suffice to say, it took his sister’s death (and maybe murdering his own invalid sister) for Dumbledore to stop planning world domination. Even then it wasn’t so much that world domination was wrong, but because his sister died and he was an asshole.

I’m going to go ahead and include CoG and Fantastic Beasts because I can (CoG, while a terrible movie, actually does entertain me in many ways). Anyways, before the films came out I always considered the younger Dumbledore far more stoic and brooding. He doesn’t get his eccentric persona until after the defeat of Grindelwald and was before then angsty mcangsts and an academic at heart. 

Well, per CoG, apparently he was a budding spy master long before defeating Gellert/Voldemort popped up. We see him manipulating Newt, sending him to Paris as his own agent, WHEN NEWT DOESN’T WANT TO GO AND HAS ACKNOWLEDGED THAT DUMBLEDORE USED HIM INTHE LAST FILM. Dumbledore writes off having used Newt for his own agenda with a charming smile but none the less it paints a pretty grim picture that Albus has always been... Albus. There has always been a greater good out there somewhere and the man is always using someone as a pawn.

Cut to canon and his treatment of Tom Riddle. Frankly, Dumbledore’s treatment of the young Tom Riddle, and even Tom Riddle just before he came Voldemort, is insane. The thought experiment I like to run is “replace Tom in those scenes with Harry Potter”.

Harry was a poor orphan, whose guardians would more than match what Mrs. Cole said about Tom Riddle, who had spurts of accidental magic now and then and enjoyed when his bully cousin was discomfitted. Now, imagine Dumbledore giving Harry his letter, and then pretending to light all of Harry’s possessions on fire to “teach him a lesson”. What the fuck?

Now, am I saying Tom Riddle wasn’t creepy here and that killing a rabbit was terrible. No. But I am saying Dumbledore had a horrible reaction to it and is proud of it years later. (Also, the fact that he uses this memory to convince Harry of how evil Tom is, is hilarious to me. Dumbledore, you were the shit that lit people’s wardrobes on fire. If I was Tom, I’d be upset too). 

Dumbledore is always like this with Tom Riddle. He thinks the worst of Tom even in points where Tom hasn’t done anything. I’m not talking about later when, yes, Tom did live up to Dumbledore’s fears but when Dumbledore treats him like garbage and actively sabotaged Tom’s career.

Anyways, cut to later when the Marauders are in school. One of the big things is that Dumbledore puts up a guerilla resistance gang OF SCHOOL CHILDREN. While most members are older, James, Lily, Sirius, Remus, and Peter are all only just out of Hogwarts. “Well,” you say, “It’s their choice and they did graduate. Surely Dumbledore wasn’t actually recruiting school children.” I point you towards canon, where Dumbledore convinces three actual school children that the fate of the nation rests on their shoulders and to go fight the good fight. So yes, Dumbledore canonically uses child soldiers and has no regret for doing so.

The other is letting James and Sirius off the hook for the Lupin incident. While Dumbledore talks the talk this showed that he was not willing to walk the walk. True, while getting them into major trouble would have involved outing Lupin (who was innocent in all of this) at the same time they were nearly responsible for the murder of another student. It’s very convenient that Dumbledore lets off the rich son of a lord, two individuals who later end up in the resistance movement (Potter likely funding part of it), and tells the impoverished half blood to sit down and shut up.

And in canon, yes, I believe that Dumbledore absolutely knew what Harry’s home condition was like. While the blood wards are an excuse they aren’t a particularly good one as for most of Harry’s childhood the Death Eaters were all accounted for. Harry was in no extreme danger from them. To not have had an inkling of Harry’s home life (when Harry even hints at it when wanting to stay over the summer, Harry runs away from home in third year, Fred and George see the bars on the window, and he even visits Harry’s home in sixth year) would be such laughable incompetence and stupidity it’s right out.

With that, I absolutely do believe what Snape showed us in the memory, the Dumbledore behind the scenes as it were. That Dumbledore knew fairly early that Harry Potter was a horcrux and began grooming Harry for suicide. Specifically, that’s what sixth year really is. All those memories of Tom Riddle, the pretext to get some memory from Slughorn, it’s an excuse for a smear campaign designed to convince Harry that Tom Riddle is inherently evil and must die at all costs, even Harry’s own life. 

Dumbledore didn’t need that Slughorn memory. Sure, it was useful to know Tom intended to make seven but think about it. How did Dumbledore know there’d be anything remotely useful in there? He doesn’t know that Tom actually drops a number on Slughorn. Even then, he doesn’t know whether Tom actually goes and does it. All of it felt like, “Harry, I have a super secret important mission that only YOU can do. Can you handle it, Harry? Because without this the country is surely doomed” And in that I mean it was an effort to win back Harry’s favor after the previous year meltdown, keep him busy, and start in on the excuse to show Harry some pretty damn innocuous memories of Tom Riddle and go, “See, HE IS EVIL!”

Due to this, I frankly think that the train scene was a hallucination on Harry’s part. Wishful thinking for some gentle explanation of how Dumbledore had not cruelly used him for years and intended his death. 

Well, that and it never made much sense that Dumbledore could predict Harry’s a) becoming the master of death b) miraculous second resurrection.

In the first case, Harry becomes master of death because of wand lore bullshit and happenstance where Harry happens to save Draco’s life. Dumbledore had no idea such a thing would happen. Dumbledore’s plan was for there to be no master of death, as the wand would default to having no owner when Snape defeated Dumbledore on Dumbledore’s orders. That Draco got the wand is a sort of Deus ex Machina. Sorry guys, Dumbledore intended Harry to die.

More, even then, while Dumbledore was very into the occult of these things we leave canon without any idea if these things are even responsible for his resurrection. They’re just relatively nifty objects with a legend behind them. There was nothing concrete to suggest that, should Harry happen to get all of them, he would be able to rise from the dead.

Otherwise onto the misogyny and classism parts.

In terms of misogyny this is from every time Dumbledore talks about Lily Evans or Merope Gaunt. In the case of Lily, she’s this weird Madonna figure whose love for Harry was so powerful it saved his life. That she also happened to make these blood wards Dumbledore cannot reproduce and extended her protection to Harry wherever he went is irrelevant. It’s her love that counts. That feminine, maternal, love purer than all others.

Basically, Dumbledore seems to be of the belief that women are flowers. The best of women are these demure, selfless, brave women who sacrifice themselves for their children. Yikes, Dumbledore.

Merope’s the really bad one though. Merope’s tale is how she drugged and raped a defenseless muggle for months and then he escaped. Dumbledore spins it into this Victorian tale of woe where Tom Riddle Sr. THE KIDNAPPED RAPE VICTIM is the asshole here who abandoned Merope to the merciless cold world. How dare he. 

It’s very clear that Dumbledore doesn’t see Merope, or women in general, as people. Instead these weird Victorian ideals who can be tragic victims of circumstance.

As for the classism.

While Dumbledore’s very against the pureblood culture we see in the Malfoys a lot of his treatment of Tom Riddle feels very... classist. The big one, which is a little tangential but I say it counts, is Dumbledore’s theory that children of rape are incapable of love. Granted, he’s saying this while convincing Harry to kill himself for the good of the cause and there is a real world parallel in that alcohol/drugs while pregnant is a very bad idea that can lead to extreme mental and physical health disorders. That said, we’re talking love potions at conception, and it always read more as “rape babies” vs. specific drugs. And that is... just yikes on so many levels.

Now, do I agree with manipulative Dumbledore we see in many fics? No, because Dumbledore’s not that stupid.

He doesn’t need to borrow money from Harry’s vault, he doesn’t need to pay off Hermione and Ron to be Harry’s friends, he doesn’t need to choose Harry’s friends for him, he doesn’t need to manipulate Harry’s memories directly. He doesn’t need to do any of this because he got what he wanted just fine in canon.

Dumbledore is one of the smartest characters in canon, far smarter than Harry, and he doesn’t have to stoop to such outrageous schemes to get what he wants. Poorly concealed smear campaigns convincing Harry to commit suicide are more than enough.

[ramblings-of-a-mad-cat]

How’ve you never been a Draco anti? Just cause he was a teenager doesn’t mean he had the right to make disgusting racist comments and do other ignorant shit. Age is just a number. I don’t mean that in a creepy sexualising way or anything but there’s never an age where it’s okay or acceptable to be racist and just be a terrible person overall. Sorry I’m all for respecting opinions and whatever but I really can’t comprehend how you apparently didn’t go anti for him. You called him insufferable in the Malfoy TLSQ but that wasn’t even him at his worst 😒

(Going under the cut, this became a #LongPost)

Did I say that? I don't doubt it but I have no memory of this and I don't really think I'd agree with that description anyway. Because he really wasn't insufferable during that quest, you're right. He was pretty spoiled for sure, and if anything I was pleased to see that side of him which the films could occasionally downplay. Like, don't get me wrong, Jason Isaacs is amazing, but he has specifically talked about his motivation during interviews, how he wanted to build sympathy for Draco by being such a cruel father. Which is just...not the kind of dynamic Lucius and Draco had, and I've talked about this before, but Lucius abusing Draco is just very out-of-character if you ask me. It's also the secret backstory of every cheesy Draco redemption fanfic ever and by no means is that limited to his character, but he's a prominent example of the trope. Ben Solo is another.

As far as the books go, Draco is another character like Snape where he gets downplayed. In the early books, he was such a pain in the ass, but I never took him seriously as a threat even as a child. I knew enough about bullying to recognize how small he felt on the inside. In no way does this make it okay for him to behave the way he does in books 1-5, I'm just saying that he was scarcely a character that I would even argue earned the title of "villain." He was Harry's school rival. The worst thing he did, by far, was the entire framing of Buckbeak. Painting this narrative of him being the innocent victim of a savage monster, with Hagrid as the negligent fool who let it happen. Draco felt humiliated and wanted revenge, and he saw an opportunity to try and get Hagrid fired. And amazingly, despite an entire classroom of witnesses who can verify that Hagrid did everything by the books and that Draco's own arrogance got him just a minor scratch....he is still, even next year, telling people like Rita Skeeter about the Hippopriff attack. How is he getting away with that? Well, I say this, and then I remember that the man behind the "Anti Vaccine" study had his license revoked after it was debunked and yet he continued to give lectures about the dangers of vaccines...

Boy, I'm getting off topic. Draco's character just doesn't bother me that much because I don't take him seriously. The Buckbeak Incident was his worst moment by far, but he remains a stagnant character for the first five books. And god damn, how can I not empathize with him starting in Half Blood Prince? Voldemort selects him for a mission that he fully expects to result in his death, all to punish Lucius. It is made very clear to Draco that he must murder his school Headmaster, Albus freaking Dumbledore. I have already on many occasions, documented how much this world reveres him as an all powerful, omniscient force of nature. I doubt I need to reiterate just how daunting and impossible this task would and did start to feel for Draco. But the consequences for failure were plainly stated. Either Dumbledore had to die, or Draco and his parents would die. He was all of sixteen years old, and he was cornered by Voldemort, when his family was already deeply involved with the Death Eaters.

I hold nothing against Draco for any choice he made in HBP. What was he supposed to do? He was trapped. He had no reason to trust Snape or Dumbledore, and they were probably his only lifelines. Even if he had managed to escape Voldemort, his parents would still have been in danger. Dumbledore offers them protection up in the Astronomy Tower, but how does Draco know he's telling the truth? How does he know that to be a promise that Dumbledore can keep? In the end, he couldn't do it. He didn't have it in him to take Dumbledore's life. Despite all that pressure on him. I think that means something. The stress of trying to carry out the mission was making him physically ill. Oh, and this was the year that Harry hit him with Secumsempra. Probably the stupidest thing Harry ever did, and I'd say it leaves them even for Ron and the poisoned mead, however indirectly. After Snape kills Dumbledore, Draco just tries to keep his head down. All he can do is nod or shake his head whenever Voldemort addresses him at Death Eater meetings.

When The Golden Trio is captured and taken to Malfoy Manor...Draco's fear, and his growing moral conflict, show themselves again. He cannot commit to identifying Harry, even though we're meant to assume he knew damn well that it was Harry. Now, sure. You can argue that he wanted to wait and be absolutely sure before they went as far as summoning Voldemort. Or you can argue that he just didn't want Voldemort to show up because he was frightened of him. I think that's more likely. Because Harry under a stinging hex is one thing, but Hermione? When asked if Hermione was who they thought she was, he once again gives an evasive "Yeah, it could be." Like it's not clear as day. Draco flip-flops a lot during Deathly Hallows. He does try to capture Harry during the Battle of Hogwarts...and a childhood best friend dies before his very eyes. Ultimately, Harry's choice to save Draco winds up being a positive inversion of his choice to save Wormtail. Saving Wormtail guaranteed Voldemort's return. Saving Draco, on the other hand, ensured Narcissa's cooperation, and thus, it bought enough time for Neville to kill Nagini, and doom Voldemort once and for all. Harry saving Draco made all the difference.

In canon, Draco is little more than a sleazy coward. His story echoes that of Regulus, and sometimes I like to imagine what it would be like if he had taken on a more heroic role toward the end and had a more complete redemption. That said, I don't strictly speaking, mind that he didn't. I love the image of the Malfoys just huddled together after the battle, unsure if they're welcome or not, but no one is actually sparing them a thought. I also like final shot of them in the film, where they just up and leave. That works for them. There was apparently a cut scene where Draco was supposed to throw Harry his wand and properly defect...and while that would have been pretty cool, again: He didn't need a full redemption necessarily. The books kind of ran out of time, especially since there was no eighth year. Draco was not emotionally ready to do the right thing. But he had learned enough about himself and the world to know that he was uncomfortable doing the wrong thing. It's easy to parrot the slurs you're taught from the cradle, but as you get older and are expected to start participating in hate crimes and things of the like...you might begin to realize just how fucked up it all is. Even if the realization is slow. Even if you're not brave enough to take a stand.

TL;DR: Early books Draco is annoying, but no more so than a fly. I just kind of brush him off. Late books Draco is actually a very compelling character and he has my sympathy.

[kill-your-authors]

My TTT 1 and TTT 3 Joe x Nicky character analysis:

Reading the Tales Through Time 3 comic is interesting because remember in the first Tales Through Time comic everyone was up in arms because Nicky was being “out of character” because he didn’t want to stab a nazi on sight in the middle of his romantic night out with Joe and because Nicky was giving Joe shit for always finding some righteous pursuit to interrupt their only private time together and because he seemed “annoyed” (he didn’t, but I digress...) to be interrupted by a woman’s desperate scream seconds before someone attempted to rape her? 

Yet, in this most recent comic, Joe is frustrated with Nicky because he’s going on a spree in Minnesota during the moon landing, right? Nicky is the one going out of his way to pursue justice in the middle of something that’s important to Joe. Not a romantic night out, but nonetheless, a one-of-a-kind moment in history that Joe specifically wanted to witness with Nicky. Joe is the one arguing against it.  For him it was enough to kill the serial killer, but for Nicky, it wasn’t. He wants to kill everyone who played any part in allowing the killer to get away with it. 

Now, setting aside the possibility that this contradiction is just an oversight on the writers’ part -

What changed and why?

In both TTT 1 and 3, Joe and Nicky feel entirely in character to me. I didn’t agree with people who thought that Nicky was being “out of character” in TTT 1 for not wanting to cause a scene on their romantic night out with someone who hadn’t even committed a crime yet, nevermind that Nicky seems like the voice of reason, the practical one, the one between Nicky and Joe who is more capable of accepting that they can’t get every bad guy every time, they can’t fight every battle every time. They can only do so much good, and they still deserve time for themselves. Or at least, that’s what I was thinking after reading TTT 1.

Now though, after reading TTT 3, it suddenly makes as much sense to me that Joe be the one who is more capable of accepting that they can’t do it all all the time, and that they still deserve time to themselves, and Nicky be the passionate one who can’t let something go. (I think I prefer it, honestly. I loved hearing Joe talk about seeing the beauty and magic in life. He’s such a pure-hearted character and I’ve always headcanoned that he more than anyone else in the guard is extremely grateful for his long life and never takes it for granted and never resents it because he knows there is always more to see and experience and live for.)

But either way, the point is the comics contradict one another, right? Joe and Nicky switched points of view? 

So, what makes this time different for the both of them? Why isn’t Joe the one on the spree, and Nicky the one in the bar lamenting that Joe isn’t there with him to witness the moon-landing? 

I think the difference lies in what the purpose of killing is for each of them. 

For Joe, killing is a means to an end. People are being killed by a killer - kill the killer, stop the killing. The killer is now dead and so he can’t kill anyone else. In Joe’s eyes, he has made the world a better place, he has saved the lives of that killer’s future victims. Preventing future harm is the point of killing for Joe. 

But for Nicky? Killing is about punishment. It is about taking the life of someone who doesn’t deserve to live. For Nicky, life is a privilege not a right. You earn your life either by doing good, or at the very least, by not doing harm. And once you’ve done harm, you no longer deserve to live. That is why Nicky thinks the people who enabled the killer to keep killing also deserve to die. This isn’t about hypothetical future victims that would have died. This is about victims who have already died. He is looking at the 24 men and boys who were killed and thinking they would still be alive if it weren’t for the killer AND he is looking at everyone who enabled that killer, and thinking some of the 24 men and boys would also still be alive if it weren’t for them. Punishing harm done is the point of killing for Nicky.

And what’s really interesting is when you start considering why that is. Why killing is about preventing future harm for Joe and why killing is about punishing harm already done for Nicky.

As always, it brings me back to their origin. Most likely, Joe was just in the wrong place at the wrong time when the siege of Jerusalem happened. He had been a merchant, but now his people were being slaughtered. He took up a scimitar and decided to fight to save them because the alternative was letting people die. For Nicky, the Crusades were a choice he made. He went to Jerusalem with the intention of killing people. Later, he realized what he’d done. The harm he’d done. The harm his people had done. For 900 some years, he has had to live with himself and for 900 some years he has done all the good he can do, served all the justice he can, in an attempt to make up for the harm he did in the Crusades. 

Joe has forgiven him, and loved him, and seen him become compassionate and good. Joe knows Nicky will never harm anyone again, and so that is why it is about what will happen for Joe, and not what has happened. Because of Nicky, it can never just be about what a person has done. It can only ever be about whether or not that person will change, and whether or not they will continue to do harm. 

But for Nicky, it has to always be about what a person has already done. Between being Catholic, and having been a part of something horrible, Nicky believes people have to be punished for what they’ve done. It is not enough for someone to be sorry, or never do it again. They have to make up for the harm they’ve done. And to Nicky, there are some things you just can’t make up for. In Nicky’s eyes, killing 24 men and boys, or enabling someone to kill 24 men and boys, is one of those things you can’t make up for. So he kills them. 

And this doesn’t contradict anything that happened in TTT 1. In TTT 1, the nazi hadn’t done anything yet. Both Joe and Nicky recognized that he would - which explains why Joe was already upset, and already about to do something, because for Joe it is about what will happen - but he hadn’t yet - which explains why Nicky tries to talk Joe out of doing something, because for Nicky it’s about what’s already happened. And it wasn’t until he did do something that Joe killed him. Similarly with the flashback, someone did something unforgivable, and so Joe killed him. For both Joe and Nicky killing those two in those respective situations aligned with their own personal reasons for killing. Those men were prevented from assaulting anyone in the future and punished for the assault they’d already done. 

If anything I’m saying right now is an accurate interpretation of Joe and Nicky’s individual motives for killing, I have to say that I really appreciate this characterization. I prefer a Nicky who can be blinded by the pursuit of justice to the point that he becomes something ugly (as Joe points out, his honor, his bravery, his compassion becomes ugly) and I prefer a Joe who cares more about helping good people than harming bad people. I think it makes sense that this is what it’s about for both of them. Joe could never be like Nicky, because if he was like Nicky, he could never have forgiven Nicky, even after Nicky became the honorable and brave and compassionate person he loves and it also makes sense that this is why Joe hates what Nicky’s doing “no matter his intent.” And Nicky knows, because of his past, because of what he did in the crusades, that it’s not enough that no more harm is done. People have to make up for what they’ve done, or they deserve to die. 

This might be simplifying things a bit. I think Nicky’s being blinded by something more than the pursuit of justice. I think this is personal to him as a gay man. He brings up the detective’s homophobia and his responsibility (oath to God) that he help people regardless of his own personal biases. He also mentions that he doesn’t feel better after he kills the detective, but that it’s better than how he’d feel if the detective had gone to work that night, implying I think, that he, like Joe, also takes the possibility of future harm into consideration when he decides to kill someone. 

But really, I do think that’s the difference. Preventing future harm, and punishing past harm, and I really like it. 

It makes me think about the movie, and how, before Rucka gave his word of God, there was a lot of debate about who’s idea it was to exile Booker for 100 years, and the fandom was split between whether or not Joe or Nicky proposed it. Most people thought that because Joe appeared angrier than Nicky did upon first learning about the betrayal, that it had to be Joe. 

I was on the side that thought that Joe appearing angrier didn’t indicate that he would have proposed the 100 years, because Joe, in general, was an open book that wears his heart on his sleeve and so, in general, Joe is always reacting the most passionately to anything that happens. I said I thought Nicky was angrier than Joe, and would more likely propose the 100 years, and that the only reason Nicky didn’t react as passionately is because Nicky, in general, is restrained in his emotions, and his anger runs cold rather than hot. 

Nicky doesn’t say a word to Booker from that point on in the movie, and at the end when they say goodbye to Booker, Joe looks over his shoulder at Booker, hesitates to walk away, and looks genuinely torn - whereas, while Andy is talking to Booker, Nicky is wearing a severe expression, almost like disgust or a sneer, and when they turn to leave he goes first without looking back. It made sense to me that Nicky approach the situation by cutting Booker off immediately, by no longer talking to him, and wanting Joe to do the same (he tells Joe to stop yelling at Booker, which many took as a sign that Nicky wasn’t as angry or that he felt sorry for Booker. I don’t think that’s the case at all). 

Even more so now, it makes sense to me that Nicky would insists on a 100 year exile, because he more than Joe would care about Booker making up for the harm he’d done. (But Rucka gave his word of God it was Joe who wanted the 100 years, and so it makes no difference if I think it doesn’t make sense, because everyone’s already hopped on board with Rucka’s word of God, because everyone prefers an angry, resentful, unforgiving, merciless Joe over...you know, actual canon Joe, who is the complete fucking opposite in every way possible...But...yeah, it doesn’t make sense lmao.)

Anyway, sorry this is so long but here’s my two cents.