#has been brewing between them for 4 seasons

[childhoodtheme]

a tomgreg endgame that i'd actually be very happy with would be for them to accidentally begin to address the very weird yet very real homoerotic tension between them, both of them at first pointing fingers at the other but weakening their arguments when they realise their strange feelings could actually be reciprocated, and then for tom to go "should we um—i mean do you want to" and then for them to slowly inch into the stiffest, most tentative open-eyed kiss which in a flash devolves into the raciest, steamiest, most impassioned hands-fumbling hair-tousling heart-racing blazers-flying office-shaking gay make-out session on television. and then for them to pull back, breathless and dishevelled, stare wildly at each other for a beat, before simultaneously conceding "yeah that's not—yeah i don't think that's it" and leaving the room only to never speak on it again

[poge-life]

𝔹𝕦𝕫𝕫𝔽𝕖𝕖𝕕 ℝ𝕖𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕡 𝕋𝕖𝕤𝕥 ~ 𝔻𝕣𝕖𝕨 𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕜𝕖𝕪

“I’m (y/n) (l/n) and this fine looking gentleman is my boyfriend, Joseph and today…we’re doing the BuzzFeed relationship quiz to see how well we know each other.”

Drew let out a groan at the use of his first name, looking over at you, “I don’t like when you call me that. You only call me that when you’re mad at me.”

“I’m sorry, baby.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek before placing one on his shoulder and looking down at the laptop. The questions listed were more like a checklist rather than actual questions but there was a variety to choose from.

‘Their birthday’

“(Y/B/D) (Y/B/Y)” He answered, tapping his hands on the desk

“November 4, 1993.” You said, “I didn’t believe him when he told me he was 26 when we first met because he doesn’t look like he’s 30.”

Drew let out sigh, shaking his head, “I don’t like to talk about it.”

“You’re getting up there, grandpa.” You teased, letting out a laugh as he shrugged your head off of his shoulder.

‘Their Astrological Sign’

“Your astrological sign is (y/s/s). Most compatible with mine, by the way.” Drew said, looking over at you as you agreed, “Obviously. You are a scorpio. Totally makes sense.”

‘Their Phone Number’

“Okay, my number has been leaked so many times that I’m not even gonna let him say it,” You declared as Drew agreed, “I know you know mine because you use it at Dunkin’ all the time.”

You just smiled at the camera as he rolled his eyes at you.

‘Their Biggest celebrity crush’

“Nick Cirillo is his.” You answered, “Nick gets more attention than I do when we’re on set. Especially this season.”

“Nick is a beautiful man, what can I say?” Drew chuckled, raising his hands in surrender, “Yours is always changing. But, if it were to come down to it, I would have to say…(y/c/c). You talk about them a lot.”

You rolled your eyes at your boyfriend, turning to give him an ‘are you serious’ look. Drew winked at you before turning back to the computer.

‘What their nickname is’

“Drewsph is a big one between our friend group,” you said, “I call you ‘baby’ a lot. I’ve also called you Drafe before on set.”

“When have you ever called me that?” He asked, confusion on his face, “I’ve literally never heard that one.”

“I do it when we’re on set and you’re in costume but not acting,” you explained, “you’re not exactly Drew and you’re not exactly Rafe. So… you’re ‘drafe.’”

Drew just looked at you with a blank expression before looking back at the camera, “I call her ‘babe’, ‘hun’, ‘sweet girl’ has been in there a few times. Maddy calls you Pookie.”

You let out a groan , banging your head against the desk, “They didn’t need to know that.”

“You called me Joseph, it’s fair game, babe.” Drew leaned down and placed a kiss to the top of your head.

‘Their coffee order’

“Oh good lord. Yours is always changing,” Drew answered, looking over at you, “Your current one is (y/c/o). You also do that vanilla cold brew from Starbucks a lot.”

“Do you know exactly how I get it though?” You asked

“5 pumps of vanilla and an extra pump of sweet cream.”

“You always just either drink an iced coffee with a little bit of creamer and like a spoonful of sugar or you get an Iced Almondmilk flat white.” You answered, “because you’re weird and can’t have a normal fucking coffee order.”

Drew narrowed his eyes at you, pursing his lips in the process, “Says the one who just weeds out their coffee with creamer.”

“Because straight black coffee is disgusting.” You argued, “If I wasn’t supposed to drown out the taste of coffee with creamer, it shouldn’t have been created.”

“So dramatic.” Drew mumbled and you mocked him “ ‘so dramatic’ Yeah. Okay.”

‘Their favorite alcoholic drink’

“Yours is different every time we go out,” You looked over at Drew, who agreed, “You drink beer in the summer, corona or Coors. When we go out to dinner, you do either whiskey. On the rocks. Or some kind of cocktail.”

“Yours depends on who you’re with,” Drew said, “You and Maddy have wine parties and go crazy for Mimosas at breakfast. But when we go out, you have (y/d/c).”

You threw your head back with a laugh at how crazy you both sound, “we sound like we’re alcoholics.”

“You and Maddy are just about there.” Drew shrugged, ignoring the look you sent him.

‘Their favorite co-worker’

You rolled your eyes at your answer, “Once again, Nick. But you also spend a lot of time with Austin and JD. But out of those three, I’m going with JD. You two hang out a lot together and he’s always at our apartment.”

Drew seemed pleased enough with your answer, “I’d say…Maddy or Rudy. You and Maddy instantly clicked when you two met and hung out more than the rest of us. But with Rudy, you two always find ways to entertain yourselves when you’re left alone.”

You had a grin on your face as you looked at the camera, “It’s always a good time with Rudy. He is the definition of letting the impulsive thoughts win. There is never a dull moment with him.”

‘Their pet peeve.’

You had to think about this one. Drew was a pretty calm person when he was around everyone and didn’t let anything really bother him. You couldn’t remember if he mentioned anything that bothered him.

“People chewing with their mouths open is your top one,” Drew said, “when people don’t take their shoes off before they sit on the couch-“

You cut him off before he could continue, “First off, we have a white couch and two, is it so wrong I don’t want whatever is on their shoes to be on our furniture? That seems like a pretty reasonable one to me.”

“Okay. I’ll give you that one. You also hate it when people don’t stack their dishes whenever we leave a restaurant.”

“I was a server in high school and college and I can say, it always made my job easier when we were busy.” You argued

You looked at Drew with your head tilted in thought, struggling to think of anything, “It’s not a pet peeve but it’s something that bothers you. When people come up to you at parties and think you’re like Rafe and give zero shits about your feelings.”

Drew let out a groan as he looked at the camera, “Please don’t come up to me and ask if I wanna do coke. I don’t do coke.”

“It’s amazing how many people in LA can get their hands on it,” You added. “You hate when people go through your camera without asking. That’s a major one I can think of. You also hate when people come over-“

“I do hate it when people come over.” Drew nodded and you rolled your eyes at him. “As I was saying, mr homebody, when people come over and use the shower and don’t hang up the towels or put out new ones.”

Drew looked at you in bewilderment, “You say that you it’s not something that wouldn’t bother everyone else. I don’t want to walk into a bathroom and step on a wet towel or be showering and not have a towel in the bathroom?”

You didn’t say anything as you just stared at him. You shook your head as you turned back to the camera and Drew just mimicked you, crossing his arms over his chest.

“And there you have it! I think this proves that we know each other better than we thought we did.” You smiled, looking over at Drew, who agreed, “It’s not like we’ve been dating for three years or anything.”

“Anyways, season 3 is now streaming and if you wanna see more of us and our beautiful friends, go ahead and watch it! And we hope you enjoyed this as much as we did!”

[911lsbts]

ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY: The episode starts with Tarlos in therapy. How long do you think this problem has been brewing?

RONEN RUBINSTEIN: Season 5 picking up a year since the finale of season 4, I think that justifies the amount of time that it would take for a relationship to start getting a little rocky. I think it wouldn't really make sense if we came back immediately after the honeymoon and things started to go south. For me, it was just really trying to understand where Carlos is coming from and knowing that, yes, TK has his wants and his needs — but at the end of the day, it's always about "How can I be the most supportive, loving, caring husband?" And I think that's just TK as a person. He's done that for his father, for his mother, for Carlos, for all of his firefighter comrades, his paramedic comrades, and all the patients out in the field.

So TK is not necessarily upset with Carlos...

I think the stress and anxiety for TK doesn't necessarily come from, "I'm not feeling seen, I'm not getting attention." It's more of "I'm really scared for my husband and he's hunting down some really bad people that could lead to a really, really scary situation, might even get him hurt." I would be curious to see which one of them suggested we try couples counseling. I would like to think it's TK, and it just shows how incredible their relationship is that Carlos would agree to do it. I think they're obviously so madly in love, and so committed to each other, and they know that they're going to need some extra help in order to figure things out.

And their anniversary gifts show the therapy worked.

It just shows how beautiful these two are and how much they care and love each other and just how uniquely different they are. I think that scene is a perfect example of that. It seemed like it turned out to be a beautiful anniversary.

So what's next for Tarlos?

Well, [TK's step-father] Enzo and [half-brother] Jonah coming into their lives is going to throw a massive wrench into everything. What's cool about the Enzo storyline is it's something I've been asking for and daydreaming about since season 1, since I learned that Enzo was actually the person that raised TK. We're going to have so many questions answered about that dynamic, and we're going to find out even deeper about the dynamic between TK and Owen [Rob Lowe], which you kind of feel like you know everything, but we actually don't. And I think it's going to come to a head of actually what went on with TK and Owen when he was younger. So I'm really excited about that. It brings such an incredible scene between Rob and me. And then with Jonah, that's going to ask a lot of questions. I think a lot of things that the fans have hoped for and have feared, I think that's coming.... You'll know exactly what I'm talking about when that episode airs.

[its-avalon-08]

stolen glances and stormy gazes (dc14)

request by anon

✦ pairing - David Coulthard x female!reader

✦ genre - fluff, it's super long

The sun blazed over the Circuit de Barcelona-Catalunya, the Spanish GP weekend bringing with it a flurry of excitement and a hint of drama. The Channel 4 studio, situated just a stone's throw away from the roaring engines and fervent fans, was abuzz with activity. Today’s broadcast was set to be a special one, with a panel that included the ever-charismatic Steve Jones, the insightful Mark Webber, the perpetually sunny Y/N, and the seasoned yet curmudgeonly David Coulthard.

As the broadcast started, the camaraderie among the presenters was palpable. Steve’s easy banter with Mark, Y/N’s radiant smile, and David’s focused demeanor created a vibrant atmosphere. But beneath the surface, a storm was brewing, and it was centered around one driver: Logan Sargeant.

"Welcome back to Channel 4’s coverage of the Spanish GP," Steve announced, his tone light and engaging. "Today, we’re diving into the ongoing debate about Logan Sargeant’s performance and treatment at Williams."

Y/N’s eyes sparkled with conviction. "Logan has been showing real potential. I think he’s been treated unfairly by the team. There’s been a lack of support and consistency that’s holding him back."

David’s jaw tightened. "I disagree. Logan’s had his chances, but performance is what matters. If he’s not delivering, it’s on him, not just the team."

The debate began as a friendly discussion but quickly escalated. Y/N leaned in, her voice tinged with frustration. "David, you’re not seeing the bigger picture here. It’s not just about raw numbers. It’s about how the team supports their drivers. Logan’s been left out to dry. His car has old part, now how can we expect him to perform with a carboard box of a car?"

David’s eyes narrowed, his gruff exterior barely concealing his irritation. "And you’re not seeing that F1 is cutthroat. It’s not a charity. If you can’t perform, you’re out. Logan needs to step up or accept the consequences."

Y/N’s face flushed with determination, her smile fading into a serious frown. "And if the support isn’t there, how can we expect him to perform at his best? It’s a two-way street, David."

Steve and Mark exchanged glances, sensing the conversation was veering into dangerously heated territory. David’s voice had taken on an edge, and Y/N’s passionate rebuttals only fueled the fire.

Mark tried to interject, his voice calm yet firm. "We should consider all aspects of the situation. It’s not just about one side or the other."

But Y/N was undeterred, her eyes locked onto David’s with an intensity that made the air around them crackle. "David, you’re so focused on the individual performance that you’re ignoring the broader context. It’s not all black and white."

David’s response was equally intense, his voice low and controlled. "And you’re romanticizing a situation that’s as harsh as it gets. It’s a tough world out there, and Logan needs to toughen up."

The atmosphere between them was electric, the debate clearly bordering on something far more personal. There was an unspoken tension that neither was willing to acknowledge, their bickering laced with a charged energy that was palpable.

Steve, sensing the imminent danger of the situation escalating further, stepped in with practiced ease. "Alright, alright, let’s take a breather here. We’ll cut to a quick ad break and come back to this. Everyone, stay tuned. This debate isn’t over yet."

As the camera cut to an ad, the studio fell into a brief, uneasy silence. Y/N and David exchanged lingering glances, each trying to process the conversation that had just transpired. The spark between them was undeniable, yet neither was willing to confront it head-on, leaving the air thick with unresolved tension.

The Spanish GP weekend was just beginning, and so was the ongoing drama between two of Channel 4’s most passionate presenters.

--

The roar of the crowd, the smell of burning rubber, and the adrenaline of race day continued as usual. The Spanish GP had unfolded with its typical thrills and spills, but the tension between Y/N and David lingered in the air, unseen by the millions of viewers who had tuned in.

As the race concluded and the coverage wrapped up, the Channel 4 team began to disperse. Y/N found herself in the media center, reviewing her notes. Her mind, however, was far from the race results.

Why does he always have to be so stubborn? she thought, her pen tapping rhythmically against her notebook. David Coulthard, of all people. The way he looks at me, it's like he’s trying to see right through me. But it's just work, right? It has to be. He couldn't possibly feel the same way.

David, meanwhile, was in a quiet corner of the paddock, sipping on a bottle of water. His eyes were fixed on the horizon, but his mind was replaying the earlier argument.

Why does she get under my skin so easily? he wondered, rubbing his temples. Y/N, with her sunshine smile and relentless optimism. She’s so passionate about everything. I can’t let her know how much I actually admire that about her. She probably thinks I’m just a grumpy old man. If only she knew how I really felt.

Y/N gathered her things and made her way towards the exit, her thoughts still tangled with the events of the day. He probably thinks I’m naive, she mused. Always arguing, never agreeing. But every time we debate, there’s something more. I can’t be imagining this. Can I?

David spotted her from across the paddock and hesitated for a moment before striding over. He cleared his throat, trying to keep his voice steady. “Y/N, can we talk?”

She turned, surprised by his presence but masking it with a small, polite smile. “Sure, David. What’s on your mind?”

He shifted uncomfortably, searching for the right words. “I wanted to say, about earlier… I didn’t mean to come across so harshly. We both care about the sport, just in different ways.”

Y/N nodded, her heart pounding. Is he trying to apologize? “I know, David. We both get passionate about these things. It’s what makes us good at our jobs. I respect that about you.”

David’s eyes softened, and for a brief moment, his guard dropped. “It’s more than just respect, Y/N. You challenge me, push me to think differently. I… I admire that.”

Her breath caught in her throat. Did he just say he admires me? “Thank you, David. That means a lot coming from you. I… I feel the same way. You always push me to be better, to see things from a different perspective.”

A silence fell between them, charged with the weight of unspoken feelings. David looked into her eyes, willing himself to take the next step. Tell her, you idiot. Just tell her.

Y/N’s heart raced, her thoughts a whirlwind. This is it. Maybe he feels the same way. Just say it.

But before either could speak, Steve Jones appeared, breaking the moment. “There you two are! We’re heading to the team dinner. You coming?”

David and Y/N exchanged a fleeting look, their silent conversation interrupted. David nodded slowly. “Yeah, we’ll be there in a minute.”

As Steve walked away, Y/N sighed softly. “I guess we should join them.”

David nodded, a trace of frustration in his eyes. “Yeah, I guess we should.”

As they walked towards the exit, their hands brushed briefly, sending a jolt of electricity through both of them. The unspoken words hung heavy in the air, but for now, they remained just that—unspoken.

One day, David thought, glancing at Y/N. One day, I’ll find the courage.

One day, Y/N echoed silently. One day, I’ll tell him how I feel.

But today was not that day. For now, they walked side by side, their hearts full of words that only they could hear.

-

Title: The Unspoken Truths

The post-race atmosphere in the Red Bull hospitality suite was buzzing with excitement. Max Verstappen and Sergio Pérez were lounging, sharing a few laughs about the day's events. David Coulthard, usually engrossed in race discussions, seemed unusually distant, his eyes frequently drifting toward Y/N, who was chatting with Steve Jones on the other side of the room.

Max nudged Checo, a sly grin on his face. "Hey, have you noticed how David keeps looking over at Y/N? It's like he's trying to solve a puzzle."

Checo chuckled, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, he’s definitely got it bad. It’s almost painful to watch."

David, catching their words but pretending not to, tried to focus on the conversation. Yet, his gaze betrayed him, lingering on Y/N as she laughed at something Steve said.

Across the room, Steve had taken Y/N aside, his expression a mix of concern and amusement. "Y/N, we need to talk."

Y/N tilted her head, curiosity piqued. "What’s up, Steve?"

Steve sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, it's time to cut the horseshit with David. Everyone on the team has noticed the tension between you two. It’s getting old, and frankly, it’s affecting all of us."

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise. "What do you mean? We’re just… we clash, that’s all."

Steve shook his head, a soft smile on his lips. "It’s more than that, and you know it. There’s something between you two that’s been left unsaid for too long. It’s obvious to everyone except you and David."

Y/N’s cheeks flushed, a mix of embarrassment and realization dawning on her. "I didn’t think it was that noticeable."

Steve chuckled, his tone gentle but firm. "Trust me, it is. And it's not just the bickering. It’s the way you look at each other when you think no one’s watching. There’s something real there, Y/N. Something worth figuring out."

Y/N sighed, her defenses slowly crumbling. "I guess I’ve been too scared to face it. I thought it was one-sided."

Steve’s eyes softened with understanding. "You’re not alone in that. But you both need to stop hiding behind your arguments and face whatever it is you’re feeling. We’re all here for you, but you’ve got to take the first step."

Back in the Red Bull suite, Max and Checo were still observing David with amused curiosity. Max leaned over, his voice low and teasing. "David, you know, staring at her like that isn’t going to solve anything."

David tore his gaze away from Y/N, looking at Max with a mixture of irritation and resignation. "I know. It's just… complicated."

Checo raised an eyebrow. "Complicated or you’re just making it complicated?"

David sighed, his tough exterior cracking. "It’s not easy, alright? We argue all the time, and I thought it was just because we’re so different."

Max’s expression softened, a rare moment of empathy shining through. "Sometimes, those arguments mean there’s something deeper. You should talk to her. Really talk to her."

David nodded, feeling a weight lifting off his shoulders. "Maybe you’re right."

-

The evening sky over Barcelona was a beautiful canvas of twilight hues, the stars beginning to peek through as the noise of the day’s race faded into a distant hum. The Red Bull hospitality suite was winding down, with only a few stragglers remaining. David Coulthard found himself on the balcony, the cool breeze doing little to calm the storm of emotions within him.

Y/N stepped out onto the balcony, her footsteps soft against the tiled floor. She paused for a moment, taking in the sight of David leaning against the railing, lost in thought. Steeling herself, she walked over and stood beside him, the tension between them palpable.

"David," she began, her voice a tentative whisper. "We need to talk."

David straightened, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that took her breath away. "Yeah, we do."

The silence stretched between them, filled with unspoken words and unresolved feelings. Y/N took a deep breath, her heart pounding in her chest. "I’ve been avoiding this for too long. Steve… he told me to cut the horseshit. Said everyone’s noticed the tension between us."

David’s jaw tightened, his gaze never wavering. "Max and Checo said the same. They can see it too. I thought I was the only one feeling this way."

Y/N’s eyes widened, the weight of his words sinking in. "You mean… you’ve felt it too? All this time?"

David nodded, his expression a mix of frustration and vulnerability. "Every time we argue, every time we’re near each other, there’s this spark. This tension. I thought it was just me, reading too much into it."

Y/N stepped closer, the distance between them shrinking. "I thought it was one-sided. I thought you just… couldn’t stand me."

David let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "It’s not that I can’t stand you, Y/N. It’s that I can’t stand how much you get under my skin. How much I care, even when we’re arguing."

Y/N’s breath hitched, her heart aching at the raw honesty in his voice. "I care too, David. More than I wanted to admit. I was scared that if I acknowledged it, it would ruin everything."

David reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he took hers. "We’ve both been scared. Scared of what this could mean. But maybe it’s time we stop running from it."

Y/N’s eyes filled with unshed tears, her voice barely above a whisper. "What if it changes everything? What if it makes things worse?"

David gently cupped her cheek, his touch sending shivers down her spine. "Sometimes, you have to take a risk. Sometimes, the things worth having are the hardest to fight for. And I think you’re worth fighting for, Y/N."

Y/N leaned into his touch, her heart soaring at his words. "I think you’re worth fighting for too, David."

As the night deepened, the stars above them seemed to shine brighter, the world around them fading away. The tension that had once kept them apart now drew them closer, their hearts finally in sync.

David leaned in, his forehead resting against hers. "No more pretending. No more hiding."

Y/N nodded, her eyes closing as she savored the moment. "Together. We face this together."

David leaned in closer, his breath mingling with hers, their foreheads still touching as the world around them seemed to hold its breath. With a tender hesitance, he tilted his head, their lips finally meeting in a kiss that was soft and tentative at first, then deepening with the intensity of all their unspoken words. As they kissed, the night sky above them erupted in a dazzling display of fireworks, the vibrant colors reflecting the newfound clarity and passion in their hearts.

The bursts of light and sound seemed to celebrate their courage and the beginning of something beautiful, marking the end of their fears and the start of a shared journey. In each other's arms, beneath the exploding sky, they found the promise of a love worth fighting for.

[penvisions]

gone to the dogs {chapter 4}

Pairing: Boston QZ! Joel Miller x Reader ; brief mentions of Boston QZ! Joel Miller x Tess Servopoulos

Summary: Unexpected glimpses of your past allow for your softer side to be exposed. But it won't be the thing that alters the dynamic between your trio. No, you have something else planned for that.

Word Count: 7k

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, canon typical gore, outbreak fic, age gap (only by about ten years), angst, dark fic, dark joel miller, mean joel miller, joel miller is uptight, degrading language, sexual language, sexual proposition, violence, heated interactions, descriptions of a minor assault, adult language, fighting, argumentative language, mutual disdain, sexual content, implication of sex work, unprotected piv, sexual acts, reader is snarky, reader gets violent, major injuries, dismemberment, reader meets joel toe-to-toe with insults and it's amazing, both reader and joel pov, lemme know if there are any i missed!

A/N: ARE Y'ALL READY, but seriously, i hope y'all enjoy this chapter *minor spoiler but reader's singing voice is very much akin to ruby leigh from the voice contestant show

ao3 link || series masterlist || joel miller masterlist || ko-fi

It’s early morning, when Tess seeks you out. The sun barely coming up and showing its form over the horizon, the sky swathed in deep oranges and golden tones that remind you of seasonal fruit.

Frank is sitting with you already, coffee brewed fresh and sweetened with frozen ice cubes of coffee creamer and sugar. A surprise you hadn’t anticipated but greatly appreciated as the man beside you refilled your cup time after time to ensure it was never truly empty. Conversation had been light, on the back porch where you had curled up in the wicker loveseat to try and get the weight off of your body for a few hours.

As soon as she shuffled through the door, Frank removed his hand from where it was tangled with your own and said he would get started on breakfast. Wanting to ensure you, all three of you, had a full stomach for the journey back to the zone. His way of taking care of you where you’ll let him, even now in the end of the world.

“Look, I know it may seem like I was playing some game yesterday…” The older woman breaks the silence, knowing your mind must be turning and overturning the events of the last few days.

“Just wanted to know I was meant to be playing along.” She’s not cautious, but there’s a tiredness and stilted manner to her sitting down in one of the matching wicker chairs. The cushion and pillow in the seat do little to comfort the unease you can see in her body. It’s as if she hasn’t slept, or that her sleep was restless just like your own despite the safe environment and almost now foreign amenities.

“I was being genuine with them, Frank…he’s reminded me of who I used to be. As I’m sure he has with you, especially sharing a past I’m not going to ask after. It’s your business and that’s your prerogative.”

“Sent your guard dog after me to listen into my conversation with him, not sure I really believe the sentiment.”

“Cane, you know as well as I do that he does what he wants.”

“Doesn’t take away from the fact that he reports back to you. Acts as if you two are the ones who run things. Conversations I’m not a part of.”

“We all run things, the three of us.” You’re glad for her roundabout honesty, though you know that it’s natural for rifts to divide people, for them to seek out those they are more comfortable with. That talking with someone you feel bonded with, a partner, a friends, is a part of life. That they both must have conversations going over things just as you do with her, though not as frequently.

“Yeah, looks like it from the outside, doesn’t it?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just that you two have gotten very comfortable with the way things are in the zone-“

“No more comfortable than you made yourself in my bed the other night.” Her eyes meet your own in a silent challenge, will you lie and cover up the fact you shared Joel’s bed, or will you be honest with the woman who does so on a regular basis. You don’t know Joel as well as she does, but he doesn’t strike you as the type to seek out attention or affection from other’s behind someone’s back. A cheater, he is not, though he has done many questionable things to survive. She doesn’t seem upset, at least outwardly, though you know it must strike a cord near her heart. The way you catch her gazing at him sometimes tells you more of her feelings than she ever has. And for that, you cannot fathom lying.

“That was a lapse of judgement. It had been a shitty day trying to move what little product I had. He didn’t fuck me if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

“I don’t care if he did, that’s his prerogative. I don’t own him, I don’t control him-“

“Wouldn’t matter if you did, he needs to feel like he’s got someone to look out for and you’re it. He would do anything for you, does do anything that you ask of him now. It’s me he has a problem with and I’m not entirely sure why he laid with me the way he did.” You try to soothe her as best you can, as best as you’re able to in the situation. She must know what she means to him, or at least what he’s able to with the damage and destruction he’s surely endured.

“He doesn’t have a problem with you-“

“Save it, I know he does. I know you do too, blatantly throwing us under the bus to make us seem like untrained dogs who only snap and bite at those that near us.”

“That was more for him, than for you.”

“And yet you still said it the way you did. It wasn’t appreciated.”

“I didn’t intend for it to hurt your feelings, I apologize if it did. I really am…appreciative of the way you’ve allowed us both to fold into your zone.” It’s obvious, the appeal she’s trying to make to you now. The same woman who had been at the table yesterday. A glimpse of who she used to be, but it bothers you how you can’t tell if she’s genuine or not, if it’s the same play you had been orchestrating with her the past couple of months.

“You came into my home to try and get intel on me before usurping me. Of course you’re grateful I folded you into the scene. You wouldn’t have had anything otherwise.”

“Not nothing, no. But I do realize it would’ve been less if you were getting a portion of the cut of everything we got on both sides.”

You only hummed in response. Aware that this conversation was taking turns you’d rather not delve into at the moment.

“We’ve all gotten comfortable, me included, you’ve given me the room to do so. But I talked to Frankie, he’s willing to convince Bill to agree to it. You’ll lead this one, you did find it after all and there’s no reason for my knowing him to effect that.” You don’t have to fear for someone lunging at you in the dark, for someone using a trade as a rouse to lure you alone to take advantage. Her intelligence and Joel’s strength have allowed you breathing room in the months of constant worry after your brother’s death.

“Joel will need to really be on his best behavior. He’s got his teeth bared because Bill does.”

“Then reign him in.” You meet her eyes, the worry you house at the rise of conflict that is all too real aimed her way but ever present in the way you didn’t have to say anything else. She nods once as you lifted your mug up and took a sip of the wonderful coffee Frank had been kind enough to keep full. “Mind him and lead by example. I will as well.”

“He doesn’t think poorly of you, if he did, he wouldn’t be insistent on joining you beyond the walls.” It’s hard to know how to respond, it’s almost default to fling insults with the older man, to taunt him and see if he rises to the bait, something he does in return. But despite it all, you would defend him should he truly need it and you only hoped he would do the same. You doubt he would die for you, but that was such a rare devotion these days.

“I suppose not, but…should anything happen he will still work with you. He���Joel is someone who needs someone by his side whether he wants to admit it or not. Like you said. And you would be good for him, protect him as he protects you. It’s…good you were willing to work with us.” It’s implied, the connection you both have with the man even if it feels different, looks different. The way she wishes for you to recall that should something happen to her. Infection, sickness, a trade gone wrong, a trigger-happy soldier, anything. She wants to ensure he won’t be alone.

“I swear to you, should something happen, I won’t throw him to the crowd waiting to tear him apart.”

“Thank you.”

“Tess, just- I have a feeling the scene is going to get worse before it stabilizes again. The cartons of cigarettes Frank is going to give us will help but, other things are bound to dry up.”

She’s quiet for a beat, taking in the way you reach for your mug. She’s watching you as much as you’re watching her. It’s not a stalemate, it never is between you two. She knows your penchant for comments on how things are going, the ways your mind works and overworks. Concerned about details and the intricacies of things whereas she’s focused on the entire scene or play. It’s a match, which allows for all things to be considered, working well with each other in the past year. She has to be aware of that, at least, even as tensions rise and perspectives are beginning to warp and shift.

“Cane, this- opportunity to do trade with an outside source, it could help prevent scavenges into the decaying city. You know as well as I do that things are getting harder and harder to find as time goes on. Hell, it’s already beginning to thin.”

“It is…” You agree solemnly.

It’s when you’re in the shower again, before you change into the clothes you had showed up in, that Joel seeks you out. Now washed and dried, folded atop the counter waiting for you. The door opens and closes without the call of a voice but you can hear the distinct steps of Joel as he stand in the middle of the bathroom. Hear the way he’s breathing a little harder than normal. You’re about to ask him what’s wrong when you hear the hush of fabric and see the outline of him through the plastic shower curtain move to pick up the dress you had been wearing.

“Dress was nice.” His voice is low, a quiet rumble that washes over your skin much like the shower, though goosebumps sprout up despite the heat of the water.

“I’m not in the mood for games, Miller.” Sighing, you reach for the shampoo, the scent of sandalwood and amber wafting in the steam that fills the room.

“I’m bein’ serious. Looked good on you. Different.” The effect his words on you, his attempt at an actual conversation is one of heat blooming in your middle. He’s so goddamn handsome and it’s a shame he’s such an asshole, molded by the circumstances of the fallen world. He seems to take your words in stride, his mood nothing but calm as the shower continues to rain down on you.

“Everything seems to be different these days.”

“Can be a good thing, sometimes.”

“Can be.” You watch through the clear curtain, dappled with beaded water. He’s shrugging out of his dark green button up. The fabric hushing as it reveals his skin to you for the second time. His chest is dusted with dark hairs, the silver threading through it catching the sunlight filtering into the bathroom.

“Don’t mind, do you?” The clink of his belt and the unzipping of his pants.

“Not particularly, no.” He’s already stepping into the stall, his broad body taking up what little room was left and crowded the space. But it doesn’t feel like he’s cornering you, it feels almost…intimate in the way that his eyes are taking in the form of your body slick from the water and foamed up bubbles trailing down where they drip from your hair. “Just didn’t think you’d be the one to seek me out next.”

Tangling his fingers into your hair, he dips your head back to wash the shampoo from the long tresses.

“There was no need for me to be so…biting last night. I don’t know how to do the whole- talking thing these days. And you have to admit, we don’t do much of that with each other already.”

“They’ll work with us, Frankie is a good man.” You reach for the shampoo again, reaching up with the thick liquid cupped in your hand to lather it into his bowed head. His hair is as soft as you always thought it was, thick curls dark with the weight of the water saturating it.

“Sharing a past with him helps, otherwise it would be a tense and slow start.” His hands are anchored on your hips, fingers digging into your skin as you don’t dare to look down where you feel him soft against your thigh. The admittance of presence helping isn’t lost on you. He’s not one for praise and it’s intense with how close you are in the stall. You hear the apology for his previous words on the matter in his new ones. Though you are unsure if he believes them, you feel the need to but it is hard to tell as his skin touches yours and ignites your blood. “Tess may have set this whole thing up and he may have convinced Bill for the trades, but you are an asset.”

You hold your tongue, the question of ‘an asset or the orchestrator’ drowning from your mind as he noses along your collarbone, ducking his head further to allow you to wash the suds from his curls. As soon as he looks back up, you’re reaching to brush the water from his eyes, his brows, his scruff, watching the way it sticks to his silver threaded hairs and the memory of it against your skin makes pleasure and desire pool in your core.

His hands are turning your willing body around, and he’s firm where he bumps against the back of your thighs, the plush of your ass as you face the wall. And now you feel crowded, as he presses his front to your back, the way he hinges your hips to meet him, for the way he slips into you in one smooth motion for the first time.

But it’s not a bad feeling, it’s comforting being shielded from the rest of the world in this little stall, his body hiding you away and comforting you all at once. It’s a dangerous thought, even as it’s punched out with your heavy breath carrying a moan as he begins to thrust against you. Heat overtakes your senses, from the pleasure rippling through you to the flushed skin pressed to you to the still running stream of the shower. It consumes you even after you peak, after you feel Joel’s own sear into the backs of your thighs, panting breath matched by him as the moment winds down.

“You didn’t tell him your brother wasn’t alive. Just told him you found him.” He breathes into your shoulder, facial hair brushing over your skin to send tingles down your spine. It’s quiet, the way he seeks an answer instead of demands one.

“He doesn’t need to know.” Is your own whispered response, unable to rise to his words with a truth of your own, a vulnerability.

“Thought he was your friend.”

“He is, but he’s…he doesn’t need to know how things really are. He wouldn’t have let me leave.”

“You say that like he has control over you.” His hands are no longer gripping tight, caressing instead along your sides, feeling the dips and valleys of your body with no intention other than to touch. The urge to return the softness twitches your fingers where they are still planted along the wall for support.

“He doesn’t. But if he asked, I would listen. Because I respect him. Mutual respect.”

He parrots the sentiment back to you, as his large hands grip your waist once again to turn you around face to face. There’s something glinting in his eyes, behind the dark brown of them slowly. “An interesting thought.”

“It is.” You nudge your nose against his, breathing him in, the scent of you both mingling in the air.

And he’s suddenly slotting his mouth against yours, droplets raining down over you both as you surge up to wrap your arms around his shoulders, returning his kiss with earnest. It’s so different from what yo expected kissing him would be life, it’s not rough or biting, it’s almost heartachingly soft in how he pulls you close and touches his lips to yours again and again.

“He’s just so hard to read sometimes, you know? Like…I don’t mean to get too personal considering we just met but,” Tess’s voice carries from a room downstairs, the one you had been given the night before, the one you hadn’t been able to lay in and remain for the entirety of it. She had ducked into it with Frank after breakfast shared at the dining room table. While the eggs had been powdered, the meet hadn’t been and the taste lingers, mingled with that of Joel.

“You can talk to me about anything, the same sentiment for Cane applies to you. We all need friends these days, people we can turn to.” Frank’s comforting voice is genuine as you step closer to the open door without trying to alert them of your presence. Tess hardly opened up about herself, let along about the dynamic between her and Joel. All you ever got out of Tommy was that they were bonded in a way that he understood, shared losses, shared pasts. They would and have killed for each other.

“Well, I’m not quite sure what’s going on, relationships were hard enough before and now…”

“It’s hard for men like Bill and Joel to be honest with what they want, to let their guard down in different settings. You shouldn’t fault yourself if he was too on edge to be with you last night.”

“It’s not that exactly. It was more like he implied he was done with that entire part of…whatever we are.”

“Maybe he’s going through something he hasn’t told you about. He seems like a pretty private guy even if he does have someone like you to talk to and in his life.” Mind reeling, you recall the way Joel had spoken to you the other night. The implication of his words, of his wants, of who exactly he had his eyes on. And then this morning when he had all but rolled over to show you his willingness to give you credit and praise your work.

‘Don’t want Tess.’

‘Mutual relief.’

‘Then clear my head, be a good little lap dog for me.’

Your blood boils, bubbles thick in your veins despite the rather calm and sensual acts you had just shared with the man in question. The worry of him moving on from the woman at his side to yours, where there is more opportunity, more to be gained, more power to be had with the smuggling scene. It’s hard to read him, whether he is truly making a play, a switch. The idea that he is losing interest in Tess in favor or you too big a notion for there to not be anything else woven into the desire. Men tended to seek out those younger than them, though you didn’t think that was the only matter in this case. The thought sticks to the inside of your throat like fuzz, drying it up and making you clear your throat loudly as you approach the doorway head on. You’re determined to undermine it, should that be the reasoning behind his recent behavior.

“Frankie?” You finally step toward the doorway, brushing your hands down over the clean shirt to try and calm your nerves.

“Yes, darling?”

“Could I use your radio, there’s a call I need to make. To set up a smooth return to the zone for us.” You nod to Tess, who doesn’t meet your eyes. As Frank stands from where he was seated on the bed, he brushes a hand over your shoulder. He’s reaching for another box from the top of the closet, the shelf too high for you but easy enough for him. The box is labeled with your name, the real one and he takes a marker from his back pocket and crosses it out. Cane replaces it in that same, simple writing he’s adapted.

“Of course, I’m looking for something, but Bill can help you out.” Frank smiles at you, saying he’ll make sure to send an outfit back with all three of you, worried for the very real act of both Joel and Tess scrounging for their nicest pieces of clothing for the visit. First impressions still meant so much and sometimes it meant the difference between life and death these days. He was a good man, and you’re determined to ensure you can continue to find things he may need use of and build up your stocks should you need to trade for something far more valuable and harder to come by. He was a priority now.

One thing was for certain, you were done allowing Joel Miller to think he had more power than he did.

An asset.

It rings through your mind as you recall the way he approached you in the shower. In the touches burned into your skin, in the way his body moved against your own. He had been there, with you, after telling Tess no. That he didn’t want for the physical any longer with her and it’s dizzying. Trepidation simmers low in your abdomen, upsetting it as it twists the muscles and pulls them taut before they tremble. Akin to the pang of hunger but much, much stronger.

It was your zone, your connections, your reputation that allowed for the smuggling and scavenging to bloom opportunity and trade. You had worked up from literally nothing, having been forced into the zone under false pretenses. The network established by you and your brother after some time, scooped up by the jaws of another hungry dog searching for the next meal to feast on. Only this one wasn’t a simple meal that would fill your belly for a night, it was one that would bring meals day after day and you were done sharing it. Done feeling like an afterthought to the man who was Tess’s counterpart.

The radio is far more advanced than the one set up in the zone, the one that Abe was lucky enough to set up outdated and one of the more military focused models. The soldiers knew he had it, it was hard no to squash the thin string of hope it allowed for all the occupants to stoke as they tried to search for loved ones and family even so long after that first horrific day and all the others that followed.

Bill walked you through how to navigate the signal waves, how to tune it just right to get the ones wafting weakly from direction of the zone. He was still on guard, the gun holstered at his side and his gauging eyes still present. But you felt at ease with him, he was an extension of Frank. He was a good man, that much you were sure of, that much you knew. Frank would be well protected and provided for here, allowed a space to cling to the good parts of who he is. He wouldn’t have lasted in the zone, let alone the pretenses in which you had found yourself able to enter the zone.

“Echo 4236, do you copy?”

“Copy for Echo 4236. Rely your message.”

“This is Ammo 1342, I have an order for you.”

“Ready to receive order, proceed.”

“I need you to hit Building 42, Apartment 19 and 20.”

“Ammo 1342, isn’t apartment 20-“

“It is, proceed. Stash the contents in Building 56, Apartment 14.”

“Copy that Ammo 1342.”

“Echo 4236 signing off.”

Bill is watching you closely, one brow arched as he takes in the smirk on your lips.

“Working together means you guys contact Tess, heed her wills to trade.���

“So, you’re allowing them to think this is still the fruits of her labor.”

“For now. When the time comes, I’ll cut them out and let them be in charge of this trade and only this trade.”

"Just be careful." The sentiment behind his words is not lost on you.

“Before you go,” Frank is guiding you by the shoulders toward the front room the second you visible coming up from the steps of the sub-basement. Bill following behind at a slower pace, content to let Frank do as he wished, the barely contained excitement and sly smile on his lips telling the other man he was happy. The piano comes into view, set up already, dusted off and smelling of lemon oil cleaner.

“Frankie, no.” You don’t even give the man a chance to say anything, the book of sheet music open and waiting.

“Cane, please. It’s been so long since I’ve heard it done justice. Bill does his best, but…too low a tone for the song. This’ll be the last thing I ask of you to recall from our past and if you truly don’t want to, I’ll concede.” As he speaks, the others are walking into the room. Bill, followed by a curious Tess and tense Joel. The word ‘no’ in your voice summoning him where he had been on the back porch with Tess talking over the most likely items to get on the list Frank had written up.

You looked from the piano to him, trepidation obvious, as if the piano were a coiled snake waiting for you to step closer to strike you down. But he looked so soft, so much like the man you remember sitting and painting with for hours in a comfortable silence, the one who had always allowed you the room to create how you wanted.

“Just this once.”

The wooden seat is firm beneath you, and you roll your shoulders a few times, cracking your knuckles to loosen your body up. Taking a deep breath, you glance up from where your hands are hovering over the keys to the music written out. You don’t need it, of course, it was Frank’s favorite song. One you had sung to him at every opening hour of a show in the gallery. The first few pushes of the keys feel unfamiliar, but muscle memory takes over quickly and you’re licking at your bottom lip before parting them.

“Love will abide, take things in stride,” Your voice is smooth and soft, growing emotive and soulful, as it fills the silence of the room and intertwines with the notes of the piano. A hint of twang in your tone as the lyrics pull it from deep inside you, where you buried it long ago. You close your eyes, feeling the sting of tears as the last seven years flash in your mind.

“Sounds like good advice,” You belt out, pitching your voice around the words, allowing for them to surge and swell. “But there’s no one at my side. Cause I’ve done everything I know to try and make you mine. And I think I’m gonna love you for a long, long time.”

You don’t dare to turn around and glimpse the expressions on everyone’s faces, the song filling you up with something you had long forgotten. Your voice carries through the second verse, the third, and then the last cords of the song are echoing in the air as you lift your fingers from the keys. The final note wavering off and silence reclaims the room.

It’s the last thing before you all make your way outside, the sun bright and the breeze cool. Bill is walking alongside Joel, Tess up ahead with Frank. You linger, eyeing the canvas and paint accumulated in boxes around the porch. An agreement made between to the two men who reside here. One giving into the other’s indulgences in only the way a loved one does for their affections.

Rationale and reason for keeping such things for better uses, a means of survival should it come to that lost in the wake of making someone happy.

“Cane, I’m- I’m just so glad that you’re okay.” Frank is suddenly pulling you into an embrace, his hands cradling the back of your head as you instantly return it. His chest is warm where you bury your face into his shirt, just feeling him for a moment, basking in the touch of another you once spent so much time with. “Please, don’t be a stranger. I may not be able to come to you, but you come to me or radio should you need anything.”

“I’m happy you’ve found your person, found a little slice of what life used to be here. The zones, they aren’t, they aren’t a way to live.” As you pull back from him, you see the question in the depths of his eyes, obviously in the way he smiles sadly at you. He wants to ask you to stay and you almost want him to.

Your trio departs with a plan to contact in a week’s time, to set up the first trade of many.

It was obvious that your order had been followed through the second your trio had entered turned from the stairwell to the hallway. The doors leading into both yours and their apartment hang on their hinges, the wood splintered slightly as they wight down the remaining nails keeping them upright.

The second story just high enough to not give any clues away from the view of the windows on the streets. You had made sure to not include your signature of a paw print, not wanting to stir up trouble before felt the need to. The same one you had Tess and Joel stamp onto their portions of goods, always beneath the foil for cigarettes or the plastic bags of pills. Especially on the butts of guns save for the ones you all carried yourselves.

“Fuck, looks like we got hit!” Tess is caught off guard, rushing forward until Joel stops here with a forearm and a small shake of his head. He moves up ahead of you both, the gun tucked into the back of his waistband sliding into his palm as he pushes aside what remains of the doors to the two apartments you occupy.

“They got everything we had stashed away.” His voice is a low rumble, anger and frustration filling the picked over and damaged apartment. He’s already cleared it as you and Tess approach, moving onto yours to clear it as well.

“This is because you showed weakness by working in that whore house!” Joel roars, dark glare focused on you as he appears back in the hallway. A shove of his gun barrel against your shoulder raises your lips in a snarl of argument.

“What I do in my spare time has no effect on the business!”

“It does it people think you’re weak, submitting to them!” He digs the gun into your shoulder again, to punctuate his words.

“Then everyone would be going after you, with how obvious it is you drown yourself in pills and booze until you pass out every god damn night!” You smack the weapon away from you with enough force that he doesn’t do it again, instead it’s hidden back in his waistband. He’s anything but calm as he shouts back at you, no doubt the entire population of the hall is listening against their closed doors.

“That has nothing to do with anything!”

“Then neither does my sparse visits to work somewhere that actually puts food on the table! The people we trade with don’t go there.” You step up into his personal space, the tension in the air thick and so unlike the last time you had done so. His eyes narrow, the brown of then shielded by the darkness of his pupils and the dim hall. The lights have been needing to be replaced for ages, your men following orders taking out the few that had remained working to make the scene.

“If they don’t, then the people that work for them do and tell them.” He doesn’t back down, his chest nearly brushing yours as he breaths in deep.

“Alright, why don’t- why don’t we all just take a breath. We had a good past couple of days, we can’t let this bring us down.” Tess is suddenly between you both, a hand on each of you to further push you apart. But you’re done. Tired and feeling too much after seeing someone who you never thought you would again mentally draining. You’re stepping around them both, their eyes heavy as they watch you walk over to your door.

“Oh, I’m not down about anything. Shit happens. Sometime tried to clean me out the second I took over the zone, it’s part of the game.” With that, you manage to shut the door as best you could.

“Haven’t seen you in a while, was wondering if somebody finally put you down?” The hair on the back of your neck rises as your skin prickles. You knew someone had been following you but you hadn’t expected it to be the man you last laid with the day Joel had caught you nearly two weeks ago. He was never one for conflict or conversation, but today he seemed willing to partake in both.

“Not that I owe you an answer, but I was busy.” Your eyes trace the way he reveals himself from the stooped doorway, the building is abandoned and boarded up. Deemed toxic due to the damage of fumes from the bombing that is evident just outside the walls.

This part of the zone is dilapidated, most of the buildings had been homes or independently owned and run businesses, but now it was the slums. The pleasure house is only a street away but that hadn’t been your intention of coming down here. It had been to retrieve some of the goods ‘stolen’ from you, stashed in an old building very few knew operated as a base for soldiers to reside in for their drug fueled days off from patrol.

“Feel like you owe me a freebie.” He’s bold to step in front of you in that moment, the street empty at the hour that closes the day in the zone.

“Not on your life.” Sidestepping him, you don’t expect him to reach out. He’s strong, his hands clasping in front of you as his front presses against your back. He’s overly hot, the scent coming from his clothes rotten and you thrash in his hold.

“Get her gun!” He’s shouting and you realize he’s not alone. There are four others now surrounding you, having slunk out of the shadows and alleyways. Someone makes a grab for it, where it’s holstered on your hip beneath your shirt. The fingers that graze your stomach are marred with ash and dirt, something you hope isn’t smeared into your skin. The man isn’t very focused, his eyes dipping to catch the flash of skin as he does so and you kick out at his hand.

The gun is knocked away from you the second it hits the broken asphalt of the street, the only weapon left on you is the knife tucked into your boot. But your thoughts are scrambled as your sense of gravity wavers, body suddenly pulled forward. Your forehead knocks into the ground, and you groan out at the feeling of rubble digging deep into the skin there.

“You fuckers!” You shout, hands reaching for the concealed blade as you feel a body pin you down. You don’t manage much as they’re suddenly held down, as are your legs. The feeling of the man above you and four more holding you down kicks your instincts into overdrive.

Surging up as best you can, you knock your head back as hard as possible. The crack of it hitting the man’s face is loud as is his cry of pain. He’s knocked off balance and into the two men holding your legs down.

Careening forward, you bite into the hand of the person putting their weight on your hands, teeth digging and tearing as he tries to pull away with a scream. He’s down and cradling his mutilated hand as you stand and brandish the knife you’ve finally got in your grip. Spitting, chunks of bloodies flesh spray onto the ground and you wipe the back of your free hand over your mouth, only managing to smear the blood further.

It slices into the skin of forearms and cheeks as the three men try to get you pinned back down and under their control with their ringleader tries to stall the bleeding of his broken nose and the whitening of his vision.

The man whose hand you bit reaches for the gun and he fires a shot that has everyone ducking. His aim had failed to help his friends but worked to your advantage as one of the men cries out at the bullet now lodged in his shoulder. The scene freezes, everyone completely caught off guard and you take the moment.

You’re reaching for the gun as he sits shocked and still, the metal rattling from how badly he’s shaking. Quickly forcing it from him and aiming it point blank, he’s slumped over and no longer breathing as you round on the others and fire three more shots.

The man who started all this is pleading, snot and tears running along with blood down his face. He’s spouting nonsense words of apology and to please spare him, that he’s learned his place and he won’t ever try to corner you again. But you don’t care. This man, this piece of nothing man had tried to track you down, to take from you, to assault you, to demean you. The knife in your hand sings for more blood but you’re shooting at him where he stands hunched over and holding a hand over his face.

He falls, hands flying to where his thighs meet his body as he whimpers. The pain of being shot in the groin too intense for him to muster up a scream. You feel a twitch of your lips as you watch him writhe and moan about on the ground, surrounded by the other men. But it’s not enough to soothe you and you’re bringing the knife down harshly as he reaches out to you for help he would never receive. His fingers scatter, and you feel the ease of your anger.

“Don’t come at me again or I’ll take your life too.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are? Telling them to make payments to you but I still have to go and deliver the goods? Do you have any idea what that makes me look like?” Joel’s voice is loud as his door creaks open, not completely repaired but enough to work for the time being. Something about him needing to find a certain type of glue for wood before he would complete the task.

“Excuse me?” If the blood staining your clothing or the tangled mess of your loosened hair catches his eye he doesn’t show it. Not even the cut above your brow or the stain of blood around your mouth and chin gives him pause and you realize he’s drunk from that and the loosely coordinated way he approaches you.

“I don’t know who you think you’re talking to but now is so not the time, Miller.” You warn, adrenaline still coursing through your body and making you shift on your feet to face him. His steps are loud, the effects of whatever he took showing.

“You listen to me, you little-“

You use the arm he reaches out to grab at you and haul him over your shoulder. The breath in his lungs wooshes out at the contact of his back hitting the floor hard. Before he even has the chance to realize he’s been downed, you’re straddling his stomach and holding the still bloody knife to his throat. He’s more aware of himself as you meet his eyes, the pressure of the blade sobering him up almost instantly.

“You wanna see how I left him, you wanna see what I looked like putting the last fucker down that dared to come after me. Dared to put his hands on me when I said no. Bleeding in the street without his fingers or his dick?” The thump of the man’s detached fingers onto his chest pull his eyes down and away from your own. They widen slightly at the sight of them, the white of the bones you severed stark in the fixed light of the hall. “Try me, Miller, try me and find the fuck out.”

He’s silent, eyes wide and mouth clamped shut. Chest heaving as he takes in the way you’re completely serious and focused on him. The knee you’re digging into his crotch painful for the force behind it and you see fear flash in his eyes. You take it in stride, feeling far more powerful than you had in months.

“That’s what I thought, go sleep off the pills you downed and report back to me tomorrow with payment or replacement.” He grunts as you shove off of him, his body stinging where yours had been on him, his neck feels cool where a few drops of blood form on the shallow cut where the knife had been.

The door shuts behind you, lock clicking in place. He stays there on the ground, heart beating wildly in his chest and his eyes take in the cut off extremities you had thrown at him where they had slid to the floor of the hall. His stomach lurches at the thought of the other one you had mentioned and he’s surging up to empty his stomach onto the faded and worn carpet.

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@the-orange-tabby-cat @yxtkiwiyxt @punkshort @cumberpegg

@littlemisspascal @mosssbawls @luxurychristmaspudding @cherrycolouredflunk

@tobethlehem @axshadows @ameagrice @theoraekenslover @mellymbee

@survivingandenduring *shoutout to @the-mandawhor1an for beta reading and @joelmillerisapunk for letting me scream with them while this chapter got finished and edited, thank you so much bbs!

[nekohime19]

Mini Mac #4 : Lil guy vs storm

Chapter 4 here we go, my finals are almost ending so I have more time now. Mac doesn't do well in storms, luckily he has a local Monkey King ready to make him feel better.

Sun Wukong was by nature a monkey of summer. His undercoat was thin, almost nonexistent, made for heated weather. He was also fond of the sun, not because of some sort of narcissistic tendency, but because he loved to nap in warmed grass. As such, he always thought of the other seasons as the lesser ones, he didn't loathe them per see, but he thought nothing of them. Now though, he was beginning to hate winter, not because of the cold or the shortened days, but because he hadn't seen his lil roommate since winter began.

Macaque was a closeted person, he didn't reveal much about himself, more than once he prefered tricking the sage over engaging in any sort of conversation with him. But still, he at least ate the fruits Sun Wukong left behind for him. Now though, since the beginning of winter, the fruits were left untouched no matter the kind, and no matter where the sage put them. It was as if the lil guy wasn't even leaving the walls of the mansion anymore. Sun Wukong wondered, for a second, if he was in hibernation. He hadn't heard of any sort of monkey needing hibernation, but the world was vast and Macaque was the first of his kind he ever saw. He did know of the existence of little people, the fae-people were reputed to be particularly small, but he never heard of a monkey, specifically, being this small. And he usually knew a lot about monkeys.

The sage was staring at one of his mansion's wall, wondering if Macaque would forgive him if he tore it down. He knew it was dramatic, and that he shouldn't be this worried, but still he couldn't help it. He hated being powerless in the face of his own worry. Sun Wukong sighed and picked up the plum pieces he cut for the lil guy yesterday, they were left untouched. Plums were supposed to be Macaque's favorites, his lil ears always fluttered in joy when he ate a plum, it was disheartening to see the fruit uneated. The sage softly knocked on the wall, trying to reach the black-furred macaque, but like always he was left unanswered. Sun Wukong's gaze fell on the wooden cabinet put beside his wooden bench in one corner of the living room. He knew one of Macaque’s holes, or gates as he called them, was inside the cabinet. They were always in the most shadowed corner of the house, behind furniture or inside a cupboard. The sage had been quite impressed when he discovered such a delicate network of gates inside his own mansion. Of course, Sun Wukong wasn't aware of all the gates inside of his mansion, but he managed to discover a good portion. He was at least partially sure that he knew of all the gates on the first floor.

Sun Wukong bit his lips, some part of him wanted to shrink and slip inside of the wall to search for Macaque, but another part of him frowned in disgust at the idea, not wanting to invade his lil roommate's privacy. He didn't want to ignore Macaque's boundaries, but at the same time he wanted to make sure the other was fine. The sage left after a few minutes of lingering, heart heavy inside of his chest.

He ultimately decided that he would go inside of the walls if he had no sign of life after another week.

He finally saw Macaque four days after, in the dead of the night, during the beginning of a particularly brewing storm. Sun Wukong was in the living room, coddled against his troop as they waited for the storm to end. They created a large nest with all the soft fabrics (not eaten by time) they managed to find. The living room was the largest room of the mansion, mainly because it merged with the adjoining kitchen (there was no wall between both rooms, creating a very vast space). Sun Wukong lifted his head and narrowed his eyes at the kitchen, something was in there. He decided to leave the nest once he saw the very familiar outline of a shadowed body. He passed by the stone table put between the living room and the kitchen and approached the lil guy rummaging through his cupboards.

Of course, it was Macaque. The lil guy wasn't dressed in his usual leaves, instead he was wrapped in a thick reddish fabric, something the sage recognized after a few seconds, it was a piece of the curtain hanging in the east wing of the mansion. He was cutting pieces out of some lingering plums with his claws, and putting them inside of his leaf bag.

Usually Macaque instantly knew when he was approaching, this time though the black-furred monkey didn't even flinch when the sage stepped in the kitchen. Sun Wukong furrowed his eyebrows, confused by the macaque's odd behavior.

“You're okay there lil bud?” Asked Sun Wukong, as quietly as he could to not startle the lil guy and awaken his slumbering troop. Macaque flinched and stilled for a few seconds, he turned towards him with something akin to shame swirling in his eyes. He looked rough, to say the least. His fur was a mess and there was a lingering red in the corners of his eyes.

“Yeah, just hungry.” Mumbled Macaque, he threw a worried glance at one of the nearby windows and fastened his bag, ready to leave. Sun Wukong opened his mouth, ready to hold him back and ask what was wrong but he was cut by the reasoning sound of thunder. The bolt pierced the blackened clouds, bleeding out in the dark night like an infected wound. Sun Wukong watched, stilled, as Macaque whimpered and curled on himself, burying his head in his paws.

“A-are you okay?” This was a stupid question, of course the macaque wasn't okay, he was whimpering. The sage looked around not knowing what to do, for all the tricks and magic he learned under his former master, he never bothered to learn something as inconsequential as healing magic. He greatly regretted that choice now.

The thunder was still exploding in the confine of the sky, Sun Wukong wondered if he could go out and fight it, maybe beating up the god in charge of storms would appease the sky and resolve the situation. He had half the mind to realize this wasn’t a very good idea and, in a spur of impulsivity, scooped up the lil guy and ran towards the west wing. If he remembered correctly, the west wing was the area with the thickest walls in the mansion, he hoped it could muffle the howls of thunder somehow. Macaque was almost weightless inside of his palms, the sage was afraid to break him if he put too much pressure on him.

He barged in the west wing and rushed towards the bed. He passed by the finely carved mahogany tables and carefully put the macaque in the middle of the bed. He grabbed nearby pillows and blankets and arranged them around the lil guy, creating some sort of tangled nest to comfort him. Macaque buried his snout in the blankets, almost slipping under it. Sun Wukong yielded to his instincts after a few minutes and climbed on the bed, curling around the nest protectively. He learned that, as the Monkey King, monkeys tended to feel safe around him, especially when he was curled around them.

Try as he might, the great sage wasn't able to close his eyes the whole night. Some part of him wanted to keep watching Macaque and make sure he was alright, another worried he could roll around in his sleep and accidently crush the lil guy. He never dared touch the black-furred monkey, worried about his boundaries, but cooed and chirped anytime the other whimpered in distress. Eventually, the storm died down and Macaque uncurled, he slowly blinked, eyes glazed over with a veil of tears and looked around him. His eyes widened when they fell upon the sage.

“Hey, you're feeling better?” Asked the King, as softly as he could to not hurt the other sensitive ears.

“Yeah… hm…thanks.” Mumbled the macaque, the tip of his ears reddening in embarrassment.

“Is this why you don't come out in winter? Because of the storms?”

“Maybe… also they're too many people in the house during winter.”

“So why did you come out last night?” Questioned the King, one eyebrow raised.

“I didn't have any plums left and it's…plums are comforting.” Whispered the macaque. “Whatever, I should go.”

“Wait !” Sun Wukong didn't really have anything to say, but he would hate to see the other go this soon. He racked his mind in search of something to say. “You know, if you need help, you can ask me or something. Either for storms, or other things. W-we're neighbors aren't we? Or roommates or something… Point is, I can help you. If you want.”

Macaque looked at him, gaze unreadable, before turning away with furrowed eyebrows, as if he had troubles believing the sage's words.

“I'll… keep it in mind.” Muttered the black-furred monkey before disappearing in a flurry of shadows.

The sage was particularly happy when he found out, later that day, a peach with a hydrangea petal on top of it in the middle of his living room. He was certain those were gifts from the macaque, they had hints of his smell on them after all.

Sun Wukong decided right then that it was the best peach he ever had, more delicious than the immortal ones.

++ idk why making memes for this Au is so funny, it's just is

Mac disappearing the whole winter without warnings :

Ch1 / Previous / Next

[apoloadonisandnarcissus]

Sauron’s future seductions

Ever since I’ve made the post about Sauron’s demonic facets in “Rings of Power” some ideas have been cooking in my mind.

It seems they are drawing inspiration from Asmodeus (demon of lust) for his character, and this is why we see him sexually seducing female characters (like it’s customary for this demon in particular); we saw this with Mirdania in Season 2; with him employing sexual tactics (flirting, touching, etc.) to manipulating her throughout the season; granting him entrance into Eregion, brewing discontent between the smiths and Celebrimbor (isolating him from the group).

Tolkien wrote that Sauron's lust and pride increased, until he knew no bounds, and he determined to make himself master of all things in Middle-earth, and to destroy the Elves, and to compass if he might, the downfall of Númenor (“The Silmarillion”). This will be Season 3. We are also told that Sauron would still wear “a mask [he still could wear] so that if he wished he might deceive the eyes of Men, seeming to them wise and fair”. Halbrand won’t return, nor it would make sense because he was “repentant Mairon”, and that boat has sailed.

If “Rings of Power” keeps the Asmodeus inspiration (and I think it will, because it makes sense with Eru taking away his ability to create fair forms later on; he has thot around enough), this can mean we’ll see more seduction of female characters happening in the show. This has me wondering who the targets of his next seductions will be, and I have some predictions.

Among the Elves I think Galadriel will be the (obvious) target (especially if blood binding theory is correct) in Season 3. Introducing another character (like Mirdania) seems kind of pointless. They already share a connection, she’s the ring-bearer of one of the Three Elven rings he’ll try to get during the War of the Elves and Sauron, and there are details about their “situationship” that need to be revealed to the audience: namely the truth of his feelings for her.

But Sauron will also find the Nine Ring-bearers among Men. And in this plot, they might introduce new female characters, indeed. Because we saw him tempting male characters (Celebrimbor, King Durin, Prince Durin) with promises of power in Season 2, while the only female characters he interacted with (Mirdania and Galadriel) were “gifted” with some seduction tactics Asmodeus-style, for distinct reasons. Unless they kept the sexual seduction entirely focused on Galadriel (to disclose the truth of Sauron’s feelings for her), while the Nine Ring-bearers will be promises of power, in Season 3.

Unlike what the Peter Jackson makes you believe, the Nine ring-bearers weren’t all kings in the legendarium; some were, indeed kings, but others were warriors and sorcerers. Season 3 will also mark the end of Sauron’s “fair motives” in healing and rebuilding Middle-earth, for sure.

In Númenor, I predict Sauron will seduce Eärien, in Season 4. We know he’ll allow himself to get captured by Ar-Pharazôn, and be brought to Númenor as a prisoner (probably at Season 3 finale). “Rings of Power” is already building up this plot. He might seduce her to get out of prison and gain access to Ar-Pharazôn, and tempt him with power, and kick out the whole Fall of Númenor plot.

“Rings of Power” have already foreshadowed Eärien will most likely die during the Fall of Númenor (adding to the fact she’s a original character of the show, and not a part of Tolkien legendarium):

Season 5 will be the War of the Last Alliance, and Sauron will be his shadow self, probably appearing like something similar to the Necromancer (Sauron) in “The Hobbit” trilogy, and/or in full armor. I don’t think we’ll see Charlie’s face during the last season of “Rings of Power”, except if they do flashbacks), they’ll probably CGI him. No more seduction in this season, he’ll enter his “angel of death era”.

[thehufflepuffavenger1]

What are we? The Grid Angel 4/?

(filler chapter next chapter is in the works!)

The next race weekend arrived with an electric energy in the air, a charged atmosphere that mirrored the dynamics within the Formula 1 paddock. As cars roared on the track during practice sessions, the off-track drama continued to unfold like a captivating subplot to the main event.In the aftermath of Max's confrontation with Charles, a palpable tension hung in the air. The pit crew, always attuned to the nuances of the team dynamics, exchanged uncertain glances. The Grand Prix season, once solely about the pursuit of victory on the circuit, had transformed into a complex tapestry of emotions and relationships.

You, caught in the crossfire of the brewing rivalry, navigated the paddock with a sense of trepidation. The post-race dinner gatherings had taken on a new level of intensity, with the unspoken tension between Max and Charles palpable to everyone around.

As the sun set over the paddock, casting long shadows on the asphalt, you found yourself approached by Charles. The awkwardness of the situation lingered, but Charles, ever the diplomat, attempted to address the elephant in the room."Y/N, about the other night, I hope it didn't complicate things for you," he began, a sincere look in his eyes.

You sighed, appreciating Charles' attempt to clear the air. "It's been a rollercoaster, Charles. The paddock has its own set of rules, and I'm just trying to navigate them."

Charles nodded understandingly. "I value our friendship, Y/N. And I want you to know that I didn't mean to create any tension. If it makes things easier, we can just be friends."

The sincerity in Charles' words reassured you, and you smiled gratefully. "I appreciate that, Charles. Let's keep things simple. Friends it is."

As the weekend unfolded, the dynamic within the paddock shifted once again. The post-race dinner gatherings became more subdued, with Max keeping a watchful eye on any interaction between you and Charles. The pit crew, ever observant, couldn't help but feel the weight of the unspoken tension.

During a team meeting, Max's frustration reached its boiling point. "I don't want any distractions during the race. Keep your focus on the strategy, not on unnecessary drama," he barked at the pit crew, the underlying message clear.

The tension in the air escalated as the race day approached. The drivers, including Max and Charles, prepared for the battle on the circuit, their minds occupied not only by the quest for victory but by the off-track drama that had become an integral part of the season narrative.

As the lights went out and the cars thundered down the straight, the intensity on the track mirrored the charged atmosphere within the paddock. Max, fueled by a mix of determination and frustration, pushed the Red Bull to its limits. The pit crew executed flawless strategies, but the unspoken tension added an extra layer of complexity to the race.

As the checkered flag waved, and the roar of engines subsided, Max climbed out of the car with a clenched jaw. The race had been challenging, but the unresolved tension off the track weighed heavily on his mind.In the quiet moments that followed, Max sought you out in the garage, his frustration evident. "We need to talk," he said, his tone cutting through the post-race chaos.You followed Max to a quieter corner of the garage, away from prying eyes and curious ears. The pit crew, sensing the gravity of the situation, exchanged concerned glances.

"What's going on, Max?" you asked, trying to read the emotions etched on his face.

"I don't get it, Y/N. We had something special, and now it feels like everything's falling apart," Max confessed, his frustration giving way to vulnerability.

You sighed, recognizing the complexity of the situation. "Max, we're in the fast-paced world of Formula 1. Things are bound to get complicated. But I value our connection, and I don't want anything to jeopardize that."

Max, still caught in the whirlwind of emotions, shot back, "I saw you with Charles. I thought... I thought there was something between us."

The realization hit you, and you gently explained, "Charles and I decided we're better as friends. Nothing more. I didn't want any distractions either, Max."

The weight of the unspoken tensions finally came to the surface. Max, torn between his desire for victory and the fear of losing something precious, admitted, "I don't want you to fall for him. I don't want to lose you."

The vulnerability in Max's words hung in the air, a poignant moment in the midst of the chaotic paddock. The pit crew, witnessing the emotional exchange, realized that the Grand Prix season had become a journey not just of speed and competition but of the heart.

As the paddock settled into a momentary lull, the off-track saga continued to unfold, a complex narrative that intertwined the pursuit of victory with the pursuit of connection. The Grand Prix season, with its highs and lows, promised a conclusion that would resonate far beyond the checkered flag.

Taglist:

@urfavnoirette , @itsjustkhaos

[downthe-f4ndom-rabbith0le]

The Way Back Home (Spencer Reid x Reader) - Chapter Three

The Way Back Home (Spencer Reid x Reader) - Chapter Three Reader Insert: she/her pronouns Word Count: 3173 Warnings: major angst, major fluff, mentions of murder, graphic descriptions of dead bodies, crime scenes, near-death experiences, slow-burnish romance, death, canon violence, rape, swearing, guns, knives, prostitution, canon cuteness of the team. Spoilers: Maeve's death, mentions of previous cases or canon events from seasons 1-10.

Spencer and you have an unspoken connection with one another. Nothing has ever happened between you two, especially since everything went down with Maeve, but your love has grown and overcome and is now clear as day to everyone. However, just when Spencer builds up enough courage to ask you out officially, you're requested on an undercover mission that halts your budding relationship in its tracks.

Months go by without a word from you until bodies of prostitutes start showing up in New York and the BAU is brought in to help. Spencer and you finally reunite as both your cases collide, but your lives and your love are both on the line now.

Will you and Spencer be able to find the way back home this time?

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Epilogue

~~~

Spencer stared hard at the map of Manhattan that was pinned to the board, eyes flickering between each location the bodies were found at. He'd circled them, hoping to visualise some sort of map or pattern between the kill spots, but nothing emerged to his despair.

He sighed, rubbing his tired eyes. The team had gone to their hotel soon after his outburst at Holt, but he'd been back in since around six o'clock. He checked his wristwatch. Quarter-to-eight it read.

'You're in early.'

Spencer swivelled around at the sound of Hotch entering the room, the rest of team following closely behind. JJ held two coffees in hand, walking around the big table in the middle of the room to hand one to him. He didnt know how JJ knew he needed the caffeine, but he smiled gratefully nonetheless and took the hot brew from her hands.

'Yeah,' he said after a deep sip, scrunching his nose slightly at the slight bitter taste he detected. It was sweet, but not sweet enough. 'I... couldn't sleep.'

How could he, when his whole world had been turned upside down in the span of a couple of hours? You were risking your life - had been for eleven months already. He wanted this case to be over, and sleeping in his uncomfortable hotel bed while you were constantly looking over your shoulder was not going to help make that happen.

The way his friends looked at him now only confirmed that he looked a little worse for wear. But before anyone could comment, Hotch intervened.

'Where are we on the unsub's comfort zone, Reid?' Hotch asked, looking at the map over Spencer's shoulder.

Spencer was grateful for the change in topic, and turned around to point at the map with one hand, the other still cradling his coffee. 'I marked out where each body was found in relation to their establishment,' he explained, pointing at each marked spot for emphasis. 'Unfortunately, they range from up to downtown, even the Upper Eastside to SoHo. Geography doesn't seem to be a factor in the killings. What does seem to be a factor, however, is that all the other girls, like Roxy, were killed either outside or not far from where they worked.'

'That could speak to the unsub wanting to deliver a message,' JJ suggested. 'If the unsub is someone who has been double-crossed by these girls or the establishments, maybe their deaths are a warning.'

'Penelope said she couldn't find anything on these girls prior to their employment,' Kate said, reading a text off her phone no doubt from the technical analyst herself. 'Y/N's intel was correct. These girls were like ghosts, but like, before they had a life.'

'They had to have come from somewhere,' Rossi said. 'They couldn't have just... invented these girls.'

'No...' Derek trailed off, hand reaching for his jean pocket. '...but they can be reinvented.'

'What do you mean?' JJ asked, but Spencer's brain worked faster than Derek's mouth.

'From the initial notes from each body find, we know all girls were quite loyal and involved with the establishment's business,' Spencer answered, feeling reinvigorated suddenly. Or maybe that was just the coffee. 'They would've had to have been isolated for a few years prior to their re-emergence back into society to be that conditioned to their owner's orders.'

'Most of these girls were around seventeen and eighteen when they started working,' Kate said. 'That's when girls usually establish their independence from families.'

'But these girls have stayed as they've entered their twenties,' Hotch noted.

'Which means they would've been taken away from society before they could figure out how to be independent.' Derek's finger pressed a speed dial button - the first person on Derek Morgan's list for all things knowledgeable.

'Greetings my love,' Penelope greeted, her perkiness like another shot of espresso in Spencer's system. 'Did you see my good morning text with all my notes - and by all of them, I mean nothing - on the girls' history? Sent with love.'

'We did, baby girl,' he answered. 'But we might have a new lead to go on and we need your help.'

'You've rubbed the lamp, and as the genie I am now at your command. What do you need to know?'

'See if you can find any missing child records from over the last decade, particularly girls,' Derek said.

'They might not be made by parents, per say,' Spencer quickly added. 'The seller is choosing girls he knows people won't look too hard for. They'll be low-risk victims, so look up any mysterious disappearances from homeless communities and even unofficial orphanages and shelters in the New York state.'

'Boy Wonder, you certainly live up to your name,' Penelope quipped, the soft pattering of her frantic typing filling the room for a moment before she stopped. 'Aha! There have been over fifty girls who've gone missing over the past decade that fit those perimeters. I almost missed some of them because they weren't officially reported, but they popped up in local newspaper adverts noting certain kids in their community had been missing for a while. I've just sent a list of places they all went missing from to your phones.'

Another flurry of fingers flying over her keyboard and she spoke again. 'And if you look at your tablets, you will find the picture a young girl, aged twelve, gone missing from a trip to an aquarium with her orphanage. A Missy Wright. She had a record for running away and hiding, so when she wasn't found after twenty four hours, police disbanded the search party and declared her a runaway. But does she look familiar at all to you?'

Spencer looked over JJ's shoulder as she looked at her own tablet, seeing the similarities before anyone else did. 'That's Roxy Vega,' he said.

'I'm running out of gold stars to give you, Boy Wonder,' Penelope quipped. 'I'll try and find more pictures of the dead girls and match them with any of the missing girls on my list.'

'Thank you mama, you're best,' Derek said.

'I know, sugar,' Penelope replied before ending the call promptly.

'Let's go talk to those establishments, particularly Roxy's old orphanage,' Hotch announced. 'Let's cover as many as we can by splitting up. Spencer and JJ, Derek and Kate, and Dave you're with me.'

Kate squinted at her phone, eyebrows furrowing in distress. 'There are over thirty addresses here. And they're spread all over the New York state. This could take days.'

'I'll get local police as well as Holt's team to help,' Hotch replied. 'We find out who these girls were before they were abducted, we find out how the unsub finds them.'

'Then we can find him,' Rossi added with an assertive nod. 'All right then, let's get going. We're burning daylight.'

Spencer downed the rest of his coffee then grabbed his satchel and suit jacket and scrambled after his team. Before he left, he turned back to the board, to the marked map and the pictures of the managers and the mutilated girls. Girls who died as different people to who they were born as.

We will find you, he silently vowed, and followed his team out the door.

~~~

The pounding music of the Pit replicated the consistent thuds in your head as you walked your way around the floor.

Three glasses of single malt whiskey balanced precariously on your tray as you made your way through the crowd of gentlemen and girls enjoying themselves. It was a fine art, one you had perfected over the eleven months you'd been undercover.

You tried not to crinkle your nose in disgust as you passed by a certain lecherous man getting handsy with one of the girls, Lavender.

She was younger than you, a pretty little thing who started around the same time as you did. You'd come to the assumption she was also one of the girls who'd been taken as a a child and reinvented, as she always dodged any questions you asked about her life before... working.

And maybe she just didn't know the answers or she just really valued her privacy as a girl in her late teens did. But the way she would always always redirect the subject or blatantly not answer didn't sit right with you.

Lavender's eyes met yours briefly, and you saw the defeat and disgust she felt as she let the man's hands grip her curvaceous hips. It was a silent cry for help - you'd seen the same look in the other girls' eyes before. Not just at the Chateau, either. At all the establishments you'd wheedled your way into.

You wanted nothing more than to slug the bastard who had to be forty years Lavender's senior, and shame him for defacing an innocent like her. For going behind his wife's back because God forbid she age like human beings do. You saw the ring tan wrapping his ring finger. That was an easy spot after being in the workplace as you long as you had. Or maybe that was just your profiler background giving you an upper hand.

Before you could do anything, however, Lavender was dragged back into a conversation with the lech, forcing a fake smile to crinkle her beautiful features. And you still had three drinks to deliver.

'There you go, boys,' you drawled out, slapping on a flirtatious smile as you placed the three glasses onto the small round table between the three occupied chairs.

'Why thank you, sweetheart,' one said, flashing your smile back at you in return. 'I've been looking forward to this all night.'

'Why don't you sit down with us,' another one said, patting his lap as he took a sip from his glass, never losing eye contact with you.

You repressed the shudder that instinctively rattled your bones, and instead you waved a hand carelessly. 'No, no. I can't. I'm on bar shift tonight, boys. I mean, who else is going to get you your drinks?'

'I'm sure someone else could cover for ya, sweetheart,' the third man suggested, hand reaching out to graze your hips. 'Come on, just ten minutes won't hurt anyone.'

Bile rose up in your throat at his touch, how it sent an uncomfortable chill through you despite the heat inside the Pit. But you were Serena Vanderguff, and this was not your first rodeo.

You gracefully yet pointedly slapped his hand away from you, laughing boisterously like you hadn't purposefully done that. 'Oh, you boys have such a wild sense of humour. But be honest... you couldn't afford ten minutes of this.'

You swayed your hips as you walked away, knowing full well they were staring after you. Wolf whistles followed your movements but none of them came after you thankfully, no doubt because they set their sights on some other poor victims.

You approached the bar and placed your tray on it, leaning on it with a sigh.

'Tell me about it,' a velvety voice said. The voice belonged to a gorgeous woman with charcoal skin, chocolate eyes, and multicoloured braids who was wiping glasses before putting them back behind the bar to use for another round of drinks. 'But I'm sad to say, but the night is still young.'

'You got that right, Ajani,' you murmured, rubbing around your eyes to avoid messing up your eye makeup. It was a little bright and bold for your taste, but it didn't matter what you liked.

It hadn't mattered for a while now.

'Hey,' Ajani said, grabbing your attention. 'Madame was looking for you in her office.'

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 'For me? What for?'

Ajani shrugged, throwing the hand towel she'd been using over her shoulder. 'She didn't say what exactly, just that she wanted to see you now. Don't worry, I'll get Becky to cover for ten.'

You nodded, then cautiously turned over my shoulder to the door to the side of the stage that read OFFICE. It wasn't unusual for you to be called in to her office as of late. It was exactly what you wanted. But it didn't mean you weren't any less terrified whenever you entered, the endless possibilities of why you were in there driving you crazy.

The door opened to reveal Madame Lacroix sitting at her desk, a drink in hand, and two other men sitting in the two chairs on the other side of it. Two men, you were terrified to notice, you recognised as managers of your previous workplaces: Alfred Royalton of the Charming Times brothel, and Melton Jones from Guilty Pleasure. Their quiet murmurings silenced as soon as you came into view, their piercing gazes freezing you in the doorway.

'You wanted to see me, Madame?' you said as perkily as you could, hoping to cover your fear up slightly.

Madame Lacroix's red lips split in an award-winning smile as she waved you inside with her free hand. 'Yes, Serena. I was! How lovely of you to join us. Come in, come in!'

You quickly scurried in and closed the door behind you, happy to find reprieve in the much quieter room compared to the Pit. But that reprieve didn't last long, as you met your old bosses' curious gazes.

'You remember Alfred and Melton, Serena?' Madame Lacroix prompted after an awkward moment of silence.

'Yes,' you answered. 'It's great to see you both. You're looking well.'

'And so are you, dear Serena,' Alfred said, walking over and embracing you in an awkward hug as he tried to not spill his drink. As an older gentlemen, he seemed more like a fatherly figure to the girls in his employment. But from what you knew about the business he and the others in the room were involved in, he came off as a creepy pedophile. 'I'm so glad to see Madame Lacroix treating you so well. You know you are always welcome back at the old haunt.'

'If she's going back to anyone, it's me,' Melton said, the certainty in his words matching the intensity of his eyes. They raked you up and down, and again you repressed a shiver from the disgusting feeling it gave you to be watched like a piece of meat. Melton Jones couldn't be older than thirty-five, and was the son of one of the biggest CEO's in Eco-energy products and research.

You could only imagine what his big-time mother would think if she knew what her son was really into.

'Tough luck, boys. She's mine now,' Madame Lacroix interrupted the fight, getting up from her seat to walk around her desk and sling an arm around your shoulders. 'But why don't we get into what we really want to talk about? Have a seat, my dear.'

You didn't have much of a choice as Madame Lacroix guided you to sit in her own desk chair before joining the men on the other side. They all looked at you expectantly, but their smiles were more alarming than reassuring.

'Um... what did you want to see me for, Madame?' you asked after a moment of silence.

Madame didn't respond right away, placing her glass of wine down first on the desk. 'You are a special girl, Serena. Very special indeed.'

You raised a quizzical brow. 'How so?'

'You've impressed us,' Alfred answered, looking around at his peers. 'Your ability to keep secrets and do things without being asked has attributed to this. It's one of the reasons we've had to share you around so much and in such little time. If I had any say, you would've never left Charming Times!'

'You've done our stocktake,' Melton continued, those snake eyes of his never leaving yours. 'Kept certain... shipments under wraps. Picked up exclusive clientele that has done wonders for our business. You're like our own little personal lucky charm.'

You recounted all the times you'd hidden the secret load of drugs that were snuck into customer's drinks and food to get them so delirious they didn't realise how much money they were spending. All the times you sat in on meetings with the managers about who to target the next night, and all the shady receipts of shipments with unknown contents in them you hadn't be told about yet.

All the the illegal and dangerous deals that you'd told your Organised Crime unit about behind your managers' backs.

'That is why we would like to reward you, my dear,' Madame Lacroix said, a smile you figured to be proud gracing her lips. 'And we're not the only ones who think so too. We think you're ready to learn our... business, and so does the Boss.'

'The Boss?' you asked tentatively, not bothering to mask your slight fear. Was this the seller? Was this the guy you'd been trying to take down for almost a year now?

'Oh don't look so terrified, honey,' Madame Lacroix doted, walking around the desk to pat at your head. She leaned in close to you, and you restrained from gagging at the smell of too much wine tainting her breath. 'The Boss is impressed by your work and commitment to the trade. So much so, he wants to meet you. Soon.'

The men looked at you expectantly, and that's when you realised how you should be reacting. 'R-Really?' you mustered out an excited response, widening your eyes to appear more innocent. 'The Boss wants to see me?'

'Yes, Serena,' Alfred said. 'All the arrangements will be made when you meet, but soon you'll be seeing him a lot.'

'Arrangements?'

Melton surprisingly was the one to answer you. 'Each establishment in the Business, as we like to call it, has their hierarchy. The Boss is above us all, and he helps keep our establishments running smoothly. From there, it goes us, then our employees. That's you right now, Serena. But there is a status in between us and the employees that is trusted more than the others, kind of like our right hand woman.'

'And that woman acts as our mediator between us and the Boss,' Madame Lacroix continued, still stroking your hair. 'Kind of like a peace offering for how generous and kind he is to us.'

'What has this got to do with me?' you asked, but you already knew what the answer would be.

Madame Lacroix let out a dramatic sigh as she stood to make her way around the desk again, rejoining the men. 'Well, our mediator at the Chateau was Roxy, but, well, you know what happened to her. So what I'm offering is a chance to become the next Roxy, Serena. Be my most trusted employee, to learn the Business, and to appease the Boss- I mean, thank him.'

She stopped mid-walk to turn and look you dead in the eye, and despite her drunken breath, you saw clarity and evil flash in those emerald eyes of hers.

'So, what do you say, Serena? Do you want to be one of us?'

[reviewinghiccup]

DEFENDERS OF BERK | HTTYD SERIES | BREAKING DOWN HICCUP

Blog Post Series: Breaking Down Hiccup

Title: Tunnel Vision

Ep/Season: Episode 4, Season 2 (Defenders of Berk)

Premise:

Somethings brewing underneath Berk and it is up to Hiccup and gang to find out exactly what that is.

THE VALUE OF TEAM WORK

From the very trivial pursuits like giving Gobber a bath to fighting off the Screaming Death, the team has to be in it together. As girlboss as Astrid is on her own, as intelligent and savvy Hiccup can be and as strong as Stoick is, IT TAKES A (literal) VILLAGE to well... run a village.

Though the episodes called Tunnel Vision, everything about it is peripheral. The gang straggles along for answers and solutions to their water problem and then to the rogue dragon issue and then back to Gobber's bath. It is just interesting to actually see an episode where the dragon dynamic also relies heavily on teamwork.

I didn't catch this at first, but the Screaming Death and his siblings, the Whispering Deaths, are one whole unit and function as a team too. As such, the strategy to beat them can't be one-to-one combat. To be fair, Hiccup and gang always function as a team but the movies don't highlight the importance of the other members of Hiccup's unit as they should. I understand why they built it that way, and I love the movies (no complaints), I am just thankful we get to explore it in the shows.

Defenders of Berk, unlike Riders of Berk, focuses more on the life there and what they do to defend it. It has a more nuanced approach to the other riders than just solely on Hiccup and Hiccup training them. Which is an interesting shift suited to the mood of the second season.

I say that this was a pretty feisty episode and I like that it stayed within the confines of the village, because I can't get enough of the day-to-day village-viking-dragon issues. It's theatrical in one word. And the way the Screaming Death was introduced is a great built up to becoming an actual threat to Berk.

SNOTLOUT THE BUSINESS MAN

Can we also like appreciate the fact that Snotlout's pretty industrious. I mean, he's a jerk by community-living standards, but if anyone is going to capitalise on anything, its going to be Snotlout. That drop Astrid laid when she discovered Snotlout charged the villagers for water was a hilarious exchange, because let's be honest, we've all purchased bottled water. We've all been taken advantage off. I mean, why isn't water free? Anyways...

I like how despite the episode harbouring on teamwork, the individual aspects of Snotlout, Astrid and Hiccup was highlighted in this exchange. Astrid explains that Hiccup didn't mean for the people to be charged for water and Snotlout's proud that the trade was his idea because he thinks profit and Hiccup thinks people. This is just a great marked difference between leadership qualities and a capitalist.

ENEMY DRAGONS

I do not emphasise enough on Hiccup's dragon nemesis. I really should've paid more attention, but after re-watching this episode, it just clicked. The Screaming Death is a terrifying monster of a villain. I mean, I suppose he's not a villain, he's just marking his territory where he was planted. The Outcasts are villains, but the Screaming Death is a worthy adversary. It's intelligent, strong, fast and responsible. I mean, all its trying to do is protect its own and find a home, just like anyone of us would.

And that's why, I never really viewed them as Hiccup's nemesis, because they're just doing their thing in line with nature. People like Viggo or Alvin the Treacherous or Dagur purposely upset the balance of the ecosystem to get ahead in life. So it's easier to pin them as threats or enemies. But, I like that in the second season, Hiccup doesn't just have to deal with difficult people, but very difficult forces of nature and survival.

The Screaming Death would go on to have another episode I really love in the franchise and I can't wait to get to it.

THE GREAT APOLOGY - I CAN EXPLAIN

I have been away for too long. Longer than I expected to. Numerous are the reasons but procrastinator, that I am. God, I am not sure if that previous sentence English-ed well. The truth is, I needed a break. I was super gung-ho about the last number of posts and made many in response and was super hyped by them, I literally lived to produce content for this page.

But then, I kind lost the luster for it after I finished my exams and resigned from my previous posting because I was just feeling really blah. I'm quite honest with my feelings on this page, and if you've been following, you'll know that my life is in a period of a pretty great transition and that hasn't really been... transitioning. So I got stuck. Then I got sick. And am still a little under the weather. And every time I wanted to post something, I felt like I took too long a break, no one's gonna read this stuff anymore, so I stopped writing.

But I never stopped consuming HTTYD content and I was in the Jay Baruchel rabbit hole for a very long time and frankly, I missed my Tumblr interactions. (Images above placed to illustrate me, being in a hole.)

I also felt like, I wanted to improve my writing and analysis, so I was reading a lot more. Then I got stage fright, or writer's fright, and got scared you guys might find me dull and cancel me. And lived in that period of insecurity for weeks.

Well, today I got out of my head and decided, look, I did this because I love HTTYD. I never expected to have a single following. I wrote because it gave me purpose, it realigns my life. It provides structure to my day-in-day-out and I miss you guys. So, I took out my laptop, re-watched this episode, cut my stills to post this.

I'm really sorry for disappearing, I guess I was just embarrassed, but the truth is, I'm trying and with each day, it is getting easier to keep at it again. I hope.

Love you guys!!! XOXO and thanks for sticking around.

[hotpinkrathian]

TPD and LoK headcannons?

HELLO ANON I LOVE YOU THANK YOU FOR FILLING MY INBOX

Okay but I have been thinking about the practical uses of TPD for LoK since its release (I've listened to the entire anthology like 5 times now) and some of my *thoughts* are a little disorganized but here they are as they come.

Kya watching Lin and Tenzin grow together and become a couple has her DOWN BAD and I would like to write something in the future, maybe a one shot drawing inspiration from this.

Fresh Out the Slammer is so Suyin/Kuvira coded, whether it's platonically or romantic idc but to me it is THEM. Specifically after the show when Kuvira is feeling empty and alone and trying to get back into her old life but she has to accept that it's not going to work and she has to start all over again.

I Can Do it With A Broken Heart- immediately thought of Asami. Not because of her relationship with Mako or Korra but because of the relationship with her dad. That was such a painful moment for her in the series and sometimes I feel like it wasn't shown enough, her grief was never really processed and maybe she struggles a bit in the beginning. Of course Korra helps her through it : )

Kyalin The Alchemy need I say more.

I feel like there's big potential for an angsty Lin-centered one shot inspired by Cassandra. I haven't fully developed this yet but it's brewing.

thanK you aIMee is another one I feel like would work well with Kuvira. I could see an angsty piece about her slowly building up to the events of season 4. I feel like maybe she has some growing resentment over her childhood and maybe that gets taken out on Suyin or just the Beifongs in general.

For shits and giggles Korra sing smallest man who ever lived to Zaheer because my guy short as fuck

And for non shits and giggles "Who's Afraid of Little old Me" this is AVATAR KORRA. This song I see in the moment before she takes down Kuvira. Like Kuvira is cocky and is convinced she's already won because she's bested korra multiple times now. And Korra is a force of nature. There's room for a powerful dissonance there between season 3 where she as the Avatar is a target. Zaheer wants to get rid of the avatar to restore chaos because the Avatar is too powerful. Korra doesn't understand this, she would never use her powers for evil, she would never use them to hurt people... until she has to. She IS the Avatar, she is the strongest being in the world, and part of her healing process is claiming that power. I can see a conversation going something like this:.

Korra: I don't get it, Asami. It's like no matter what I do, how many times I show these people I'm on their side... someone is always out to get me. It's like they're afraid of me or something.

Asami: Korra, you are the Avatar. The only thing standing between them and their fucked-up ideal "world", is you.

Korra: I don't want people to be scared of me, I want them to feel safe. To feel like I'm an ally.

Asami: and you are, but... I don't know, Korra. Maybe it's not all bad if some people fear you. If Kuvira, or Zaheer had been more afraid maybe... maybe things would've turned out differently.

And then the bad guy is all "you think you scare me?" And Korra is all

"No, but I should."

(I could also see this trope working well with Rangshi but you requested LOK )

Annyywwwaaaayyyyyyy

I hope I delivered

[topwan-obikin]

FIRST HALF OF REVEALS ARE UP!

Here it is the first half of reveals for the first deadline of our fest!

From this moment on, the authors mentioned in this post will be able to promote their creations however they like! You are free to post your work on your own social media and we will promote it alongside the reveal of your fic. You can include moodboards or other creative images in your promotion! Just be sure to tag the fest in some way.

If instead you didn’t have the chance to look through the creations revealed, now it’s a great time to do it. Give them some love and share the ones you loved more!

Let's dive in!

☆ Always be my Master by jiminthestreets_bonesinthesheets @jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets

[Explicit - 5,402 w]

Anakin has just been knighted, and both he and Obi-Wan are having a hard time with what that could mean for them. Neither of them are looking forward to the distance that could be put between them once they start taking on separate missions from the Council, but Anakin has a little something planned to hopefully help Obi-Wan feel a bit better about the situation.

☆ Don’t Bully Anakin He’ll Cum :( by StarryAri (damndameron) @starryariart

 [Explicit - Fanart]

Anakin getting railed while wearing a silly little shirt. Based on a prompt for Top!Wan Obikin Fest!

☆ The Only Sacred Part of Me by MoonyRoony

[Explicit - 5,052 w]

Anakin Skywalker, a newly presented omega, goes to the Halls of Healing for his first gynecological exam. Healer Obi-Wan Kenobi guides him through it with a slow and gentle hand.

☆ Get My Way by Darkwhisperings @dark--whisperings

 [Mature - 6,711 w]

Normal was good. Normal meant that everything was right in the universe. This… this was decidedly not. Or. Five times Obi-Wan watched others lust over his very… pretty padawan, and one time he staked his claim.

♥ love’s a hand-me-down brew by amadwinter @amadwinter

 [Explicit - 19,431 w - chapters: 6/8]

Obi-Wan has a steady job teaching at the university, a low-rate mortgage on comfortably sized condo in a nicer part of the city, and a respectable social circle. He has no criminal record, no sordid past he’s hiding, he’s in relatively good health, and his friends tell him he would make for an excellent romantic partner. But Obi-Wan’s not looking for love. That’s far too big a commitment. If love is to find him, it will have to hunt him down and kidnap him first. He usually satisfies himself with pretty young things he meets at bars, but unlike his usual taste in lovers, the doe-eyed graduate student that Obi-Wan keeps finding in the wrong library doesn’t seem to notice his flirting. He might have to spell out his intentions if he wants something more. Though Anakin is far from the only oblivious one in their library.

☆ No more blind dates by jiminthestreets_bonesinthesheets @jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets

[General Audience - 2,835 w]

Padmé sets Anakin up on a blind date… again, and despite his annoyance he goes and of course he gets stood up, let alone waiting at the movie theatre looking like a lost puppy. Thankfully someone else finds him.

☆ Bunnywan & Nyanakin by StarryAri (damndameron) @starryariart

[Explicit - Fanart]

Furry-ified bunny Obi-Wan is entering his mating season and just wants to fuck his catboy Anakin all the time!

☆ It’s Always Been You by boguspreston & StrangeLilBat

[Explicit - 12,601 w]

GFFA-verse Unable to admit to their feelings, Anakin and Obi-Wan seek alternate means to relieve themselves of their sexual frustrations. or The idiots are in love and too stubborn to do anything about it. In classic Obikin bumbling style, they accidentally end up picking each other at a gloryhole.

♥ sleep won’t come the whole night through by veloursdor @veloursdor

 [Explicit - 9,910 w - chapters 4/5]

Anakin Skywalker had been in love with Obi-Wan Kenobi since he was nine-years-old, before he even understood what love was, or what being in love actually meant. But while Little Ani had always dreamt of romance and a happily ever after where Obi-Wan was concerned, eighteen-year-old Anakin knew a fuck without expectations of more was all he’d ever get with the man that would always have the biggest piece of his heart.

☆ Art by @yatsukisakura

Obi admires Ani’s perseverance against the odds, and using food as love language - after all, food will be more enjoyable with someone you love.

☆ Out of Sync by grapenehi @grapenehifics

 [Explicit - 8,441 w]

Anakin may have the worst timing in the entire Jedi Order. First, he spends one incredible night with Obi-Wan Kenobi - his best friend, the most handsome man in the entire galaxy, and his former Master - only to immediately be sent away to the Outer Rim sieges. Then, just when Obi-Wan finally manages to come visit him, Anakin screws up on a mission and is put on house arrest. Ahsoka and Kix try to cover for them, which is exactly when Chancellor Palpatine and the Jedi Council arrive for a surprise inspection… Kriffing timing.

☆ because it brings me back to you by amadwinter @amadwinter

[Explicit - 12,182 w]

Obi-Wan stumbles back to the Temple drunk and tired, but the padawan asleep in his bed is too tempting to leave alone.

♥ the song has ended but the melody carries on by veloursdor @veloursdor

 [Explicit - 4,040w - chapters ½]

They only found a lightsaber when all was said and done. After the dust from the battle had settled, when the field had been cleared, Anakin had been nowhere in sight. Obi-Wan had refrained from searching high and low for his former Padawan, deciding instead to trust in the Force’s will and in his Padawan’s ability to survive almost everything. Because to think otherwise was something he couldn’t even consider.

♥ to love is to choose and be chosen in return by veloursdor @veloursdor

 [Explicit - 11,530 w - chapters 2/8]

“Have you ever heard of sugar babies?” Anakin Skywalker, a part-time student and part-time intern at Stewjon Motors, enters into a contractual arrangement with Obi-Wan Kenobi, the CEO of Stewjon Motors, to become his sugar baby. The catch? Love is off the table. For both of them. But Anakin has been a rule breaker since the day he was born.

☆ Anywhere Else is Hollow by calico_sky @underacalicosky

[Explicit - 26,779 w]

Past experiences have shaped Anakin’s trust issues with sexual partners and wariness of relationships, but he meets Obi-Wan and begins questioning everything he thought he didn’t want. The only problem is, Obi-Wan has his own scars from his past that further complicate the process of earning each other’s trust.

☆ life imitates art by innominatta (ineptia)

 [Explicit - 6,752 w]

Anakin has been practicing his art ever since he got top marks in one of his extra courses as a padawan. He good at drawing two things: faces and hands. He finds he’s even better at drawing these things when they’re Obi-Wan’s hands and face. Anakin’s art turns from simple hand studies to putting Obi-Wan’s likeness in a multitude of sexual situations. Anakin keeps these drawings stashed away until one day Obi-Wan finds them.

☆ Abuse of Power by athecai

 [Explicit - 14,673 w]

Obi-Wan has been charmed by his young and troubled patient, Anakin Skywalker. At first he thinks little of these feelings, but once the obsession settles in, he no longer cares about the risks it takes to satiate his hunger. Or, Obi-Wan is Anakin’s therapist and falls in love with him in the worst ways possible!

If you know the handles of any of the authors we revealed today we did not tag, please let us know and we'll add them!

Next batch of reveals will go up tomorrow, same hour!

You want to join our community and chat a bit? Join our discord server, invite here.

Twitter thread here.

[canonicallyobserving911]

Chapter 11 is available on AO3 - Hiatus Reading

Fanonwriter2023 on AO3

Where CANON and FANON collide!

“I’m still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!” - Chapter 11 Summary: A “virga” or dry thunderstorm is in the forecast but once the rain starts, the thunderstorm happening outside won’t be able to match the storm brewing inside between Buck and Eddie.  It’s the universe’s final scream and when the tumultuous winds begin to blow, they’ll have one last chance to hold onto everything they’ve built over the last six years or they’ll lose it all forever.

“I’m still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!”

Season 7 FANON Speculation: Buddie Multi-Chapter Fanfic - Hiatus Reading

Currently 11 chapters completed: 296.3K Words Rated: Mature

One chapter will be posted at a time.

___________

Here's a snippet from Chapter 11 of one of Buck's and Eddie's conversations.

___________

He’s about to respond but he doesn’t get the chance since Eddie starts talking again.

“I WAS IN LOVE WITH YOU!”

Immediately, all the air gets sucked out of the room as the storm outside continues to rage just like the storm that’s happening between them inside.

Buck stands stock still at Eddie’s statement since all these years he’s hoped and dreamed Eddie was in love with him but he never allowed himself to believe it because he didn’t want his heartbroken.  His lungs feel like they’re deflating as his brain catches up to Eddie’s statement then he realizes Eddie said he “was” in love with him meaning it’s past tense like he’s not anymore and Buck doesn’t know what to do with that.  Now his chest is hurting because it feels like a boulder was just dropped onto it as his “Broken Heart Syndrome” returns with such force that it makes his knees buckle.  Even though he’s spiraling, he has enough presence of mind to prevent himself from falling.

Milliseconds turn into seconds and seconds into a minute while silence fills the space between them since neither of them attempts to move or speak.  The music on the TV is still playing but after Eddie’s last statement, blood is rushing past both of their ears which is preventing them from hearing Mariah Carey’s song “We Belong Together”.

As Mariah sings, “I couldn’t have fathomed that I would ever be without your love”, Eddie maintains eye contact with Buck and before he knows it, his mouth opens and he says the words he’s been wanting to say since April while they were standing in front of Marie’s grave.

“You broke my heart!  I was in love with you but you broke my heart.”  He bites his bottom lip and blinks several times in an attempt to blink away his tears.

___________

This is an EPIC LOVE STORY!

Fic Summary: Months after Buck and Eddie were hit by the same lightning strike; they’re still struggling with the aftermath of it.  But before they make their love confessions, they’ll spend time getting to know themselves as individuals first. Eddie learns to enjoy the simple things in life as he participates in activities on his own and with new friends while Buck learns the rest of the 31-year-old deep dark family secret about his conception and birth. Their journey to forever is still a work in progress but once they finally admit they’re in love with each other, everything that follows their love confessions will be cataclysmic.

__________

Chapter Summaries

Chapter 1 - Eddie makes a new friend while Buck receives devastating news regarding the sperm donation he made for Connor and Kameron.

Chapter 2 - Buck does a lot of research to learn more about the abnormalities found in his red blood cells and Eddie starts a new therapy journey that’s all about him and not the traumas he’s experienced.

Chapter 3 - After more than a month, Buck and Eddie finally spend time together outside of work but it doesn’t end well and they part with a lot of uncertainty regarding their places in each other’s lives.

Chapter 4 - Eddie has a few realizations about his life which causes him to consider moving back to El Paso, TX while Buck continues to be reminded of his past which causes him to take an impromptu road trip across America.

Chapter 5 - Both Buck and Eddie have difficult conversations with their parents and Buck finally learns the truth behind the reason why his mother despised him while Eddie finally tells his mother about the way she tries to control him.

Chapter 6 - More than two weeks after Buck pushed Eddie away after suggesting they needed a break; Eddie decides to try again. Eddie’s there for Buck when he’s at his worst just like Buck was there for him when he was at his worst and he won’t let Buck give up.

Chapter 7 - After Buck’s mental breakdown, Eddie has his back the same way Buck had his when he had his own breakdown more than a year ago.  They share several vulnerable and emotionally intimate moments with one another and they begin to realize their small, sweet and caring gestures matter just as much if not more than any grand gesture ever could because these are the foundations of a long-lasting love relationship.

Chapter 8 - Buck, Eddie and Chris all have their own therapists and during their sessions, they reflect on their pasts while they’re in the present so they can prepare for their future together as a family.

Chapter 9 - Buck and Eddie are there for each other when Buck has to testify as a witness during the trial.  But by the end of it, they’ll both realize their individual and shared traumas are going to keep resurfacing until they talk about them, deal with the fact that they’re in love with one another and face the fact that they can’t live without each other.

Chapter 10 - As Buck and Eddie finally begin to confront their past traumas, they realize how much they need each other to fill in the gaps of their memories.  Additionally, the universe screams at them for what appears to be the one hundredth time so Buck can realize he doesn’t have to ‘find it’ because he already ‘made it’ and Eddie’s reminded tomorrow isn’t promised and he doesn’t have to die alone if he doesn’t want to.

Chapter 11 - A “virga” or dry thunderstorm is in the forecast but once the rain starts, the thunderstorm happening outside won’t be able to match the storm brewing inside between Buck and Eddie.  It’s the universe’s final scream and when the tumultuous winds begin to blow, they’ll have one last chance to hold onto everything they’ve built over the last six years or they’ll lose it all forever.

Chapter 12 - Will be posted soon.

__________

Read chapters 1-11 are available on AO3.

Continue reading on AO3

[galliversary]

Welcoming Ivy Hanover, one of our writers!

Where can we find you?

Tumblr: @vivvision

Twitter: ProtagonistIvy

YouTube: The Main Protagonist

AO3: LavenderPatrex

Instagram: Themainprotagonist_

Who is your favorite Gallifrey character?

It's quite difficult to pick between the main cast; they all have an equal share of my heart. Leela, though, has a bit of my soul as well. I look up to and admire Romana and Narvin a great deal, but I think it goes a little bit farther with Leela.

She is many things. A warrior, a friend, a wise woman. She speaks and acts entirely with her heart and is not only happy but proud to do so. Even in the face of manipulation and servitude she never lets go of who she is. It's true that she may not be intelligent in our conventional sense of science or technology but physically or emotionally? She's the smartest character in the entire series. And she knows that. She doesn't let anyone on Gallifrey trample over her or underestimate her unless there's strategic value in it.

Where most timelords focus on coldness, cruelty or impassivity, Leela is so beautifully compassionate and human. There are so many intricacies to Leela that I find myself relating to and hoping that I can embody- whether it be her strength or the way she speaks in truth and poem.

What is your favorite season of Gallifrey?

Here's one where I'll certainly have to give multiple answers.

Series 4, I think you'll find, is a favorite to most. It's incredibly creative and impressive in the way that it manages to explore each member of the main cast while also introducing brand new worlds. There's so many brilliant character moments, ideas, changes and not once does it lose itself.

Series 5 is a highlight for me because it gives Romana and Narvin good time to develop their relationship outside of the main trio/quartet. I also like that it gives Leela some time away from them to process everything thats happened and shake things up a bit before they all come back together in series 6.

The War Room series (I'm including 2 as well as I know I'll love it) I have really been enjoying so far. Leela is absolutely top notch in this section of Gallifrey and it's taken the series in a great direction. I really like seeing Narvin and Leela put in completely different positions from where we met them in the beginning. Narvin fighting against Gallifrey, Leela having to work with them, etc. It's stellar stuff and I can't wait to see where the War Room takes all of us.

What is your favorite episode of Gallifrey?

I would like to put it on record that the mods of this project have not made any of these questions easy for me. (/lh)

If I absolutely HAD to pick, I would choose Mindbomb from series 3. Mainly because it really is a Mindbomb. No, it's not the finale of series 3. But it wraps up a great deal of the political storm that has been brewing for the first couple of series in absolute spectacular fashion. There's hardly a moment where you're not getting some big-bang level revelation or back-and-forth taking place. Most importantly, amongst all of the excitability it still remains incredibly smart and true to all characters.

What are some of your favorite scenes/moments in Gallifrey?

In no particular order:

I mentioned Mindbomb being my favorite episode. The back-and-forth of trying to figure out who is president is a really engaging and electric scene. When I listen it, I imagine I'm feeling what football fanatics feel when they.. do good football stuff? Listen, I don't watch sports, I'm a giant nerd. But I get very hyped during that scene.

The dream sequence in 'Reborn' of course. It's outrageously funny and never fails to make me smile. I always keep an ear out for it, but there's a wonderful bit where you can still hear Lalla Ward laughing. Speaking of which- can I add the outtake from the scene as a bonus?

At the end of 'First Days of Phaidon', Leela and Narvin have a moment where they say they're temporary goodbyes. It's been a long time since either of them have seen one another, and they've both been figuring the other was dead. So it's a quite wholesome scene where they get a chance to acknowledge that their relationship has come so far that it doesn't need words anymore. Plus, we find out Narvin's been driving around an arcade machine this whole time.

[invested-in-your-future]

thoughts on bumbleby?

I…genuinely can't see a version of RWBY where those two are NOT the endgame. As characters they are closely tied since the very first trailer, the beauty and the beast metaphors just literally write themselves and beyond Cinder's plot, its the single most well built up thing in Volume 1 through 3 and their trauma is intrinsically linked. Their relationship is genuinely THERE - be it in terms of each allowing themselves to be vulnerable when around each other or just how much blake subconsciously tied herself emotionally to Yang (considering how much Mercury stuff hits her in V3). Its likely the single most tangible idea in the show.

The fact that I have SEVERE doubts it would have gone ANYWHERE had RWBY not been put into a situation where it's very survival as a show is in danger…speaks miles about how RWBY is handling various aspects of itself, be it characterization or social issues…

The show is…not great with inclusivity…at all. Be it tackling it as in-story issue (be it WF storyline or how the show handles trauma) or actually being inclusive. Inclusivity is something that comes up as patchwork against critique, rather than something that's intervowen into the show. The amount of queerbait, heternormativity, ableism or just outright insensitivity is just…yeah. Till certain point show is completely oblivious just how heteronormative it is, like it takes legit YEARS before the criticism reaches the writers and they throw at the viewer "here LGBT people exist" kind of moment.

It kind of made me feel like this relationship is this "break in case of emergency" thing, where the show is absolutely afraid to commit to any sort of buildup and instead dangles it as POSSIBILITY, while also throwing in a good share of random het stuff around. You take any moment in time of RWBY existing, Monty or no Monty and you will have SOMETHING - be it the way Sun's team is used in S2 that feels like writers being scared of WLW ships that came to be or the infamous bumbleby song incident where RT released an absolutely romantic ship song during pride month and then backpedalled hard on how it means nothing for canon and how all songs totally mean nothing for canon. Or how after the absolutely charged build up in V3, you get an…entire season of trying to counter-balance it with Blake and Sun where the show tries to execute a similar plotpoint between them. Its a repeated pattern of plausible deniability.

Even if you take a moment without a controversy brewing, it always felt like the writers are AFRAID of Blake and Yang actually interacting or progressing as characters or as a relationship. Volume 4 through 8 are filled with the kinds of situations where Blake and Yang "share a scene together", but in terms of writing it feels like there's intentional artificial wall placed in between them. The characters are not allowed to deal with their separation at the end of V3 because it could be viewed as romantic, the characters are not allowed to vocalize their trauma because their traumas are intertwined and it could be viewed as romantic bonding, the characters are not allowed to to react to each other's actions because reacting to each other can be seen as romantic. So in a way you get a lot of scenes where Blake and Yang can stand together in a same scene but not really progress.

Like not even just as a pairing, you don't need a pairing to deal with character sexuality. You can still do entirety of will they won't they after having confirmed that yes Blake and Yang can be interested in women romantically. But the show avoids it till the last possible moment.

Given to be fair, that applies to more than LGBT topics - Ruby has spent her ENTIRE SCREENTIME from start of V4 till end of V8 being juuuuust on the brink of having a proper character moment where she can reflect on her trauma, for example, just scene upon scene where any kind of breakthrough is suddenly interrupted or goes nowhere. That's because the show is afraid of committing to ANYTHING overall, not just LGBT pairings. Any sort of character development, any sort of growth or change, any sort of progress. Any bigger revelation is toothless (just think back onto Salem flashback and just how it changes absolutely NOTHING in the show)

So you have basically a show where you have a bunch of characters and relationships with a lot of potential and possible build up and the show kind of does nothing with it for entire seasons. Because the show is afraid of change or progress of any sort.

Countries can fall, people can die and nothing changes.

Characters Don't. Status Quo Doesn't. Setting Doesn't.

It feels like the show is stuck. Stuck just after V3 ended. Stuck and just throwing multiple kind of redundant plotlines at the viewer to distract.

I love Blake and Yang as a pairing and I think its one thing that makes the most sense in the show. Its one of the main draws to the show for me when I still watched it.

I wish this show was THE show that lived up to the boundless storytelling potential that that relationship is...alas.

So yeah, its complicated.

[alphinias]

I want jiara to kiss more than anything in season 3 and obviously romance will 100% start brewing between them in season 3 because the writers said it will happen but they always said they don’t want to rush it so that’s why I think they’re not gonna kiss or officially get together this season I think we will get an almost kiss in episode 10 but it’s gonna end on a angsty note and they’ll save the kiss for season 4 😩😩😩

I’ve been on the same page as you, but that new still has me rethinking some things I won’t lie. The fact that it’s only in episode four?! I do think the still makes the scene look even more unhinged and intense than it probably is (which is still going to be utterly unhinged lmao sjsjw) but idk. It’s still the most romantically charged thing we’ve seen from them by far. The more I see the more I think they’re kissing at the end. Like I’ve never seen a presentation screaming “your slow burn is about to kiss!!” more than the way netflix did this overlaying. EVEN THE JIARA TAGLINE?!

If it ends on an almost kiss my masochistic ass would maybe even be happier though. I love the angst and build up 😂 I do hope they save some stuff for S4!!