#i’m not creative enough to actually make this happen so I’m just putting it out there to see if someone wants to take their shot at it

[devotedlyandrogynousyouth]

I know this sounds so boring but what Bruce with a polite, wise gentle girlfriend? This is so boring 🥹🙂‍↕️ I’m sorry🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

No omg I actually love how like domestic this request is, in a way?? Literally in love with the amount of creative freedom that you guys let me have with reqs.

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BF! Bruce Wayne w/ a Wise/Caring Girlfriend

BF! Bruce Wayne who you're convinced really doesn't have a chill button. There are only a handful of times over the past few years you've been together where he's been home, unoccupied, and not pacing around the Manor like a maniac.

BF! Bruce Wayne who's always just so sore, achy, and tired. This comes into play especially when his age finally starts catching up to him, depite how hard he pushes his body. The best thing, however, is that if you get him to sit down for more than five minutes, you'll get to rub his back.

"Sit."

"Hm?" He was pacing the lavish master bedroom again, his mind working overtime to plan ahead for a recent situation with his 'nightly extracurricular.' In all honesty, he wasn't paying attention as you watched him from the edge of the bed.

"Come sit with me, Bruce." You repeat softly, moving to lay back against the pillows and holding your loving arms out for the tired man beside you.

"I can't-"

"You're going to burn out if you keep going at this rate, Bruce." You don't even give him the chance to protest before you're leaning forward, grabbing his wrist, and pulling him to lay on top of you with his head burried into your chest. There's a few moments of domestic bliss as he tries to find the will to pull away and fails. "Sometimes..." You start softly, the heels of your palms gently digging into the knotted muscles of his back and shoulders, "Sometimes I think you forget to breathe."

A deep breath and a soft sigh can be heard, although its slightly muffled by your chest. "I know." He whispers after a few moments. "Im sorry."

"Don't be." You respond without hesitation as you continue your gentle ministrations. "You shouldn't apologize to me. Ever, Bruce." You pause for a moment as thoughts gather. "You should, however, apologize to yourself for what you keep putting yourself through.

BF! Bruce Wayne who doesn't realize it, but needs your help so much more than he'll ever need anything else. It doesn't matter if you know that he's Batman or not, you somehow just... Know what needs to happen. Bruce, of course, tries not to let you in on exactly what problems he's facing, but he swears you have a sixth sense for this kind of stuff.

BF! Bruce Wayne who absolutely melts every time you make him dinner, even though he likely won't be home to eat it. He often forgwts to eat between work meetings and beating the everloving shit out of criminals on the Gotham City Streets.

The feeling of a large, caloused set of hands resting on your waist was enough to pull you out of your own thoughts as you put down the spatula in your hand. "Somebody's home early." Your voice is almost a teasing jest to Bruce, but he knows just how much you've missed him over the past few days.

"I heard that a certain lovely woman was in need of attention." His voice is slightly muffled by the skin of your shoulder and fabric of your shirt as he practically buries himself into you, pressing a soft line of kisses up your neck.

"You can't just keep cancelling work meetings for me, handsome." You turn to face him for a moment, pulling him down slightly to press a kiss to the tip of his nose. "You need to start doing things for your own sake."

BF! Bruce Wayne who refuses to go on a vacation for years. Until you listen in on some banter between him and a few of the 'Elite Gothamites' at a Wayne Gala and find out where he's always wanted to go. And proceed to drop subtle hints that you want to go there until he finally gives in, because how could Bruce ever resist that begging tone? After all, it made him feel less guilty that it was for you (it totally wasn't) and less selfish for taking time away from the city forgotten by God.

"You have impeccable taste in locations, beautiful." He mutters before pressing a kiss to your warm cheek, broad arm already around your shoulders as you basked in the setting sun of the private beach he rented out for a few days.

"Maybe you should listen to your girlfriend a little more, Mr. Wayne." You tease softly before gently grasping his chin in one hand and pulling him in for a soft, sweet kiss. His lips mixed with the faint taste of liquor are as close as you feel you'll ever get to heaven.

BF! Bruce Wayne who, if you know about his identity as the Caped Crusader, goes to you for help as little as possible. You undertsand that he's doing it for your own protection, but you can't help but feel a little upset over him.hiding even more from you.

"No, there will be too many thugs waiting at that entrance." He mutters softly, eyes trained on the flashing and blinking lights displayed on the Batcomputer forming a map of a warehouse inhabited by the Joker.

"What if you went in through those vents?" You ask softly, moving the hand not on the back of his rolling chair to point out a hidden ventilation system. "Sure, I get that it's a tight fit, but you could probably take of the utility belt for a few minutes, right?"

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Masterlist

[shining-nebula2000]

I have an idea for a Ezra x reader fic

OK so hear me out on this, what if Ezra was dating someone who’s past boyfriend was supposedly killed in action during the rebellion and then ended up with Ezra afterwords, but the old boyfriend wasn’t actually dead he was in prison and managed to escape and get back to The rebel base, only to find out that his partner is now dating Ezra and then starts this whole argument and fight with Ezra accusing him of being a lover stealer or something like that. The reader gets caught up in it honestly I just want to see some drama

[aphroditeinthesea]

“ the best thing that’s ever been mine ”

jason grace x greek!fem!reader ⚡

a quest turned unforgettable

a/n happy 30th birthday loml (bc he's very alive xo)

⋆ ˚｡ ⚡︎♡⚡︎ ˚｡ ⋆

Y/N was already exhausted. She joined Jason on their last quest before they would be off to New Rome University.

“There’s too many choices,” she complained, laying upside down on the motel bed in a random small town in Vermont, “I cannot decide between journalism and creative writing.”

The tall blond walked out of the bathroom and leaned against the doorframe. He held his toothbrush that was still covered in the blue paste, “why don't you do both?”

She thought for a second, “I’ll decide when we get there, I guess.”

He leaned back inside the bathroom to spit in the sink before joining her on the bed. She leaned over, laying her head in his lap so her so he could play with her hair, “two weeks.”

“Ugh,” she scrunched her face, “that’s so weird.”

“It’s not that weird,” he laughed, “it’s nice. We’re gonna be moving in together, every night can be like this.”

She smiled, sitting up, “seems too good to be true.”

He trailed his arm around her, letting her rest her head on his shoulder, “I know, every morning I actually have to pinch myself to make sure I’m not still dreaming,” he melancholically smiled, “I have to make sure I have this life, that this is actually happening to me,” he looked down at her, “and that you're real.”

She bit her lip, smiling, “cheesy.”

“Hey!” He defended, “I open up to you and get called cheesy?”

She giggled, “sorry, sorry,” she pressed a kiss to his cheek, causing his expression to soften, “I just think it’s cute you think I might not be real.”

“How is that cute?” he laughed. She kneeled on the bed to now be taller than him, “because it means you love me.”

He laid back, pulling her down with him, “love isn't a strong enough word, sweetheart.”

“Hm,” she positioned herself on her elbows, “then what is?”

“I don't think there’s a word for it.”

“Enamored, adoration, agape?”

“Did you just open a thesaurus?”

She cackled, throwing her head back, “it’s called a brain, blondie.”

“Sorry, I’ve never heard of that,” he joked.

She leaned up, kissing the corner of his mouth, “most people’s are in their head, but yours might be here,” she held onto his bicep.

“Wow, Y/N,” he sighed, “where’s yours then?”

She shrugged, sitting up to lean on the headboard, “considering I came on this quest, because I didn't want to leave you, I say here,” she answered, pointing to her chest.

“Your heart?” he grinned.

“No, my boobs.”

He let out a bray laugh, throwing himself onto a pillow. She grabbed another pillow to hit him with.

“Ow!”

“That did not hurt.”

“It could’ve,” he responded.

“You’ve been stabbed countless times, I think you can handle a feather pillow.”

“Wow, hit me where it hurts,” he sarcastically replied.

“Okay,” she smiled, hitting him again.

“Y/N!” He yelped, shielding his face with his arms.

She hit him again, and again, and again. When she finally stopped, he stared up at her in a way that his blue eyes might as well be shaped like hearts, “Jason?”

“Will you marry me?”

Her eyes widened, she trailed his face, trying to figure out whether or not he was being serious. The way his eyebrows nervously creased and a soft smile curved on his lips, told her all she needed to know.

“When?”

He sat up with her, “really?”

She bit her bottom lip before a smile found its way to her cheeks, “I love you more than anything, Jase. We might as well.”

He kissed her, tightly holding her face in his hands. She was first to pull away, although still tracing his bottom lip with her thumb, “there’s a convenience store, across the street.”

“Yeah?”

“I bet they sell ring pops.”

“Oh?” he looked at her for a second, “let’s go.” He quickly got up, pulling on a hoodie. She followed, putting on a pair of leggings to pair with the oversized t-shirt that belonged to her boyfriend. Scratch that. Fiancé. “Ready?” He smiled with an outstretched hand.

She took his hand in hers, “ready.”

They rushed out of their room in a fit of giggles. The thought they probably woke up a few of the other people staying there crossed both their minds for a quick second before the true situation was the only thing they could think about. They were gonna get married.

They stepped out to see the empty streets and sidewalks. She briefly looked up at Jason, “Jay?”

“Yeah?” He looked down to her with an unfaltering smile on his lips.

“Are we dumb?”

He thought for a second, looking at the stars that were so clear in the Vermont sky where there was maybe one streetlight in sight. “No.”

She laughed, leaning her head against his arm as they crossed the street, where Jason insisted on looking both ways even though there wasn't a car in a hundred mile radius. “I think we’re idiots.”

“You're the only one,” he paused, “I mean the only one who thinks that,” he defended, “not the only idiot.” He stopped again before continuing, “not that either of us are idiots, we’re very smart actually. This is a smart thing to do.” He kissed her head as she stifled laughs at the boy’s nervousness. He opened the door of the convenience store, letting her walk in first.

She crossed her arms, “when we get back to camp, Annabeth gonna be on our asses about this.”

“Hey,” he turned around to grab both her hands, “you wanna do this, right?”

She leaned up to kiss his lips, “more than anything.”

“Good,” he grabbed something off a shelf to look at to divert his gaze from her shining eyes, “because I don't think I’ve ever been happier than right now.”

She tilted her head. She placed her hand under his chin to get him to look at her once more, “seriously?”

He looked around awkwardly. He then placed his lips to hers as he whispered, “you’re the greatest thing in my life. I love you more than anything.”

Her smile beamed at him, “I love you, too, blondie.”

He laughed, “then let’s get some rings.”

They aimlessly wandered the small store to look for the candy aisle. They giddily pranced into the section.

“Okay, what’s your favorite flavor?” He asked her as they stood before the ring pops.

“Cherry,” She leaned forward to grab the package, she turned to look back at the son of Jupiter, “what about you?”

“I don't know,” he shrugged, “I’ve actually never had one.”

“No way,” she grinned. “Here,” she picked through the flavors, “I think you’d like this one,” she handed him the blue raspberry candy, “it matches your eyes.”

“Thanks, love,” he took it from her grasp before grabbing her free hand, “you wanna go get married now?”

Her heart fluttered at the reminder of what they were truly doing. They were getting married. They were going to be husband and wife. Bounded by holy matrimony.

“You okay?”

She quickly nodded, “never been better.”

They hurriedly checked out and rushed out of the store. They both stopped in their tracks just outside of the store.

“Where are we getting married?” He mentioned, looking down at the girl.

“Yeah, I don't know.”

“Wait, one second,” he let go of her hand to grab his phone out of his pocket.

“If you get any single out here, I think it’s a sign we have to get married.”

He chuckled, typing into Google. “Hey, wait, there’s a chapel ten minutes away.”

“You're kidding,” she responded, leaning against him to see his phone, “but it closes in five minutes?” she frowned.

“Hold on,” he dialed in the phone number he found on the website. He held his phone to his ear, a few seconds passed before he spoke, “hello? Sorry, I know it’s late but- yeah, we were hoping we could get married tonight,” he locked eyes with her as he continued, “uhm, Y/N L/N and Jason Grace,” he went silent for a minute, “really? That’d be amazing, thank you so much. We’ll be right there.” He placed his phone back in his pocket, “we’re getting married tonight,” he couldn't have smiled any wider when he spoke.

She laughed in amazement. She jumped up, wrapping her arms around his neck, “we’re getting married!” she nearly shouted. 

He kissed her hair, tightly holding her, “we’re getting married,” he slowly let go of her, “but we have to hurry.”

“Right,” she nodded. I want to say that they flew there as in they just drove really fast, but they did in fact fly there. Above the wooded forest that lined the streets. When they finally arrived at the chapel, there was a singular light on by the front door and a sign with missing letters that read Elysium Wedding Chapel.

“Elysium,” she spoke, “are you serious?”

“A little threatening,” Jason joked as they walked closer to the white building. He squeezed her hand as he knocked on the door.

An older woman, about 70 or so, answered the door. A smile donned her face as her eyes met the two, “you must be Y/N and Jason! Come in!” She led the two of them into what looked to be a living room with pink and floral furniture that looked to be from the fifties or so.

“Thank you for taking us so late,” Jason mentioned as the woman opened a large book. She stood under an arch adorned with fake pink flowers and green vines.

“Nonsense,” she replied, “we hardly ever get visitors,” another woman, who seemed a bit younger walked in, “oh! Here’s my daughter, Alexandria, she’ll be your witness.”

“Nice to meet you,” Alexandria said, “you two look young, how old are you?”

“We’re eighteen,” Y/N answered, her arm now locked with Jason and her hand holding his.

“Oh my!” Both women exclaimed, causing giggles from the couple. The older woman seemed as though she was about to speak again but suddenly began looking around the stand where the book was on.

“Geez Louise, I lost my glasses again,” she shook her head, “I’ll be right back.” With that, she scurried out of the room.

There was a moment of silence before Alexandria began to speak, “you know why we call it the Elysium Wedding Chapel?”

They both shook their heads, momentarily sharing a look before turning back to the woman.

“Elysium was the Greek equivalent of Heaven. So, when my mother and father opened this place, they thought about how romantic the Greeks were and decided to name it after their Heaven.”

“That’s amazing,” Y/N responded. She then looked up at the blond, “right, sweetheart?”

He smirked, “yeah, the Greeks really were romantic.” There were those heart eyes again. He soon looked at the woman, “she’s Greek actually,” his head motioned towards his soon-to-be wife.

“I should've known,” the elder added, “Greek girls are always the prettiest.” (i’m totally not just saying that because i’m greek.)

Y/N grinned, “thank you.”

The older woman once again came into the room, “found them! Now, let’s get this show on the road.” She guided the couple to the arch, “you two hold hands.” The two mirrored each other, both distracted by the adrenaline in their veins to think straight. It was finally becoming real, that they were to be married in the next few minutes.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join together this man and this woman in Holy Matrimony,” she turned to Jason, “do you have vows you wish to read.”

They shared a look. Jason’s hands sweated in Y/N’s grasp. Sky blue eyes met e/c ones as his mouth opened, “Y/N, I know you already know this, but I love you, so much,” he blinked in an attempt to stop himself crying, “I never thought that I could be loved in the capacity that you do. I always was taught to believe that I was nothing but a soldier,” he hesitated, realizing how strange that must've sounded to the strangers, “but I think you freed me and I’ll forever thank you for that, Y/N.” “Damn it,” she mumbled as tears began to spill, “Jason, if anyone asked, you are the most incredible person to walk this planet. You are the most selfless, caring, loving person I have ever met. Since the day I met you, I knew I never wanted to be away from you for a second, and there would be no greater gift than spending my life with you.” He let his tears rain down when she finished. He looked down as he tried to gather himself.

The woman turned to Jason, “do you Jason, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to live together in matrimony, to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health, in sorrow and in joy, to have and to hold, from this day forward, as long as you both shall live?”

He sniffled, “I do.”

“Do you Y/N, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to live together in matrimony, to love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health, in sorrow and in joy, to have and to hold, from this day forward, as long as you both shall live?”

Y/N widely smiled, her cheeks hurting from how much she had done so that evening, “I do. I really do.”

“Rings?” The woman questioned.

“Right, sorry,” he grabbed the bag he had left on a nearby table.

“Oh!” The woman raised her eyebrows, “ring pops?”

“The only thing we could get on short notice,” Y/N mentioned, smiling through the tears on her face.

“Okay, then,” the woman laughed, “repeat after me,” Jason tightly held onto the cherry candy, “with this ring, I thee wed.”

“With this ring, I thee wed,” he slipped the ring onto the girl.

Y/N’s hands began to shake, “with this ring, I thee wed,” she repeated.

The woman clasped her hands together, “by the power invested in me, I pronounce you, Jason Grace and Y/N L/N, man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

Jason took her face in his hands, bringing their lips together. She could taste the salt on his lips from the tears, but that didn't matter. All that mattered was that she was kissing her husband.

They left the chapel, hand in hand. No words were said on their way back to the motel. They had said everything they had needed to say for centuries. But just before they entered the room, Jason stopped her.

“What?” She questioned, looking around.

He opened the door before turning back and picking her up bridal style, “I had to,” he smiled. She threw her head back, laughing. She wrapped her arms around his neck as they walked into the room. He placed her softly on the bed, hovering over her.

“I love you, Mrs. Grace,” he whispered just as he pressed a kiss to her lips.

She brushed her thumbs against his cheeks, “I love you, Mr. Grace.” He kissed her once more, “hm, you take good, too.”

He chuckled, “so do you.”

“I think we should always eat ring pops before we kiss.”

He kissed her neck before looking back up at her, “anything you want.”

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bonus! 

Y/N and her secret husband sat side by side on the grass of Camp Half Blood alongside the rest of the Seven as well as Nico and Will.

“Why are you wearing an old ring pop?” Annabeth queried.

“Oh, uhm,” Y/N panicked as she scrambled to find an answer.

Leo interrupted before she could say anything, “I was asking Jason the same thing earlier!”

That’s when the daughter of Athena noticed the matching ring on the boy’s left ring finger. She looked back up at Y/N, “you didn't.”

“Annabeth-”

“You got married!” the blonde girl exclaimed.

Everyone crowded around the two asking questions about what happened.

“I can’t believe you didn't tell us,” Percy commented, crossing arms.

“We didn't tell anyone,” Jason defended, “we barely knew what was happening!”

“I can't believe you didn't choose me as your best man,” Leo offensively added.

The blond rubbed his forehead, “I didn't have a best man at all, Leo.”

“How did it happen?” Piper questioned, leaning closer to the two.

“If you guys would shut up for five seconds, we’ll tell you,” Y/N responded.

They both went on to tell the group everything. From the pillow fight, to the vows. The way they laughed and talked over each other made them realize that husband and wife was the simplest way you could describe them.

[spidermans-l-o-v-e-r]

Two of a Kind

Pairing: Buck x Reader

Word count: hahaha 2024

Notes: Y’all are literally so creative, I dont know if this is good enough but I sure hope it is!

This is stupid, this is so so stupid but he really doesn’t have a choice and he really doesn’t have much time and honestly, it’s probably a better idea to be doing this in the bathroom (which he’s done before) but there’s just a level of privacy his Jeep offers, especially since he parked in the back lot oh yeah and it’s 3am. 

Buck pushes his seat back as far as it’ll go and takes out his phone. It’s- it’s embarrassing but he can’t help himself, she just looks so much like you, right down to the curve of her hips. She’s even got the same color nails you do, and he’s not a perv honestly he’s not. But when she shoves his hand down his pants, pulling his cock out and stroking it in time with the man absolutely railing the girl beneath him he feels like one, just a teeny bit. 

“Fuck that’s it baby, fuck cum on this cock” he moans to himself, his hips thrusting up into his hand, he wishes it was your hand, he wishes it was your pussy squeezing his cock, soaking the front of his work pants. But that's wishful thinking 

“Please, please deep-“ 

His hand freezes and he nearly drops his phone, fumbling with it to try and pause his video as fast as possible. He’s watched that video religiously all week, he knows every soft cry and every curse… and he’s never heard that before. 

He looks around for a minute, his heart pounding in his ears as he sits forward just a little bit, his head peeking up from the window. That’s when he notices a soft glow in the car next to him. It’s a couple of spaces away, but the windows are cracked.

“Oh. Shit” He recognizes the Barbie pink car because he’s always teasing the owner of said car. He sits up a little more, he can’t get caught, not now. He can just see your pretty face illuminated by the phone in your hand, your lips are parted, soft moans falling like a symphony as you touch yourself. You’re in the passenger seat, it’s laid back like his was, your legs up on the dash as you work your clit slowly, your shirt is wide open and your pants are discarded somewhere he can’t see

It is 3am after all 

He can feel his cock painfully throbbing at the sight of you, and he makes a decision, a very stupid decision but like… you guys are always so flirty at work and he’s head over heels and there’s literally no other perfect time 

He fixes his pants, leaving his shirt partially open, and gets out of his Jeep, quietly closing the door and taking a deep breath. This is either going to be the hottest thing to ever happen to him or he’s being fired, there is absolutely no in-between.

He struts over, shaking out his arms. He’s not sure how you haven’t noticed him, and it’s just making him more nervous. He takes a deep breath before leaning down and knocking on your window 

You shriek and cover your body, your phone falling to the ground as he puts his hands out in front of him 

“It’s me!! It’s me! it’s just me!” 

You throw your door open, swinging your legs down 

“Are you insane?! That was terrifying!” You yell at him and he puts his hands over your mouth 

“Shut up!! We’re gonna get caught!! Move over, come on” 

You shove his hands away, climbing over the center console and he gets in the passenger seat. He looks around for a minute, he’d never been in your car before 

“Well shit, this is actually pretty luxurious” he wiggles his butt and you facepalm, still sitting there in just your half-open work shirt and little else 

“Can I help you??” You ask, holding your head in your hands 

“Actually” He winks as he reaches down and grabs your phone, the video still playing, and his heart nearly stops when the man looks suspiciously like he does 

“Was wondering if maybe I could help you” 

You laugh a little, he’s crazy. 

“Y-you want to what?” 

“I’m gonna be honest with you… we came out here to do the same thing” 

His cheeks are such a lovely shade of pink as he looks over at you, his eyes raking over your body hungrily. This isn’t the first time he’s looked at you like this, and definitely not the first time you’ve seen him do it. 

“Y-you came out here t-to-“ He pulls his phone from his pocket, unlocking it and handing it over. The woman on the screen looks incredibly similar to you and your eyes widen, your heart pounding out of your chest 

“Why don’t we get more comfortable in the back?” Buck is asking, as he gestures toward the backseat and you find yourself climbing over the chairs, curling up on the seat with your knees to your chest as Buck follows you. 

He kicks off his shoes and sits in front of you, taking your legs and pulling them straight so they’re across his lap 

“Better?” 

You nod slowly, looking at his chest. His shirt is wide open as he leans back against the door and smirks at you, massaging your legs. He takes up so much of the backseat, it makes you feel smaller than you already are 

“Now what?” You croak and he grins widely 

“Maybe we just finish what we started?… together?” He pulls his cock out of his pants, it’s still rock hard, the tip dripping pre cum as he strokes it lightly. Your mouth goes dry as you stare at it, you’d seen the outline before, it just kind of happened, especially when he would work out… but seeing it? 

Oh he’s a work of art 

“Your turn” he eggs you on, watching as you shyly wriggle from your panties. He takes them from you, stroking himself with them for a minute 

“F-fuck that’s good” He whimpers, his head falling against the window, his lips parting. He’s panting softly, using your panties to get off when he hears a little moan fall from your lips. His head jerks up and his eyes lock with your hand between your legs, sinking your fingers inside you. 

You stop when he does, biting your lip. He watches with rapt attention as he slowly strokes his cock, and your fingers move in and out in time with his hand. He giggles a little deliriously, practically drooling over you as you fuck yourself with him. He speeds up, jerking his hips up into his hands and you do too, keening softly and sliding down on the seat further, your leg hooking around the chair in front of you 

The lewd wet sounds of your pussy echo in the car around you as you pant together, your hands working together. He stops for a second, reaching for his phone in the front seat 

“C-can I??” He holds it up, and you nod, your cheeks flushing 

“Y-yea do it, want you to get off to me all the time” 

Buck groans as he takes a minute to record you, keeping your body perfectly in frame. He zooms in on your fingers plunging in and out of your puffy pussy, dripping down onto the seat below you. 

“Jesus you’re making such a mess” He whispers, his hand reaching out, softly rubbing the inside of your thigh. Your fingers slow to a stop as you stare at him, he looks at you and it’s like both of you are completely frozen

You reach for his phone, turn it around, and look at him expectantly 

“A-are- do- do you mean???”

You bite your lip, nodding your head and he strokes his cock a couple times before tapping your clit with it. He relishes the feeling of your body jumping each time he does it. He drags his cock through your messy folds, admiring the way you coat his cock so nicely 

“You want it?” He asks softly, his voice deepening “You want daddy’s cock?” 

You nod eagerly, keeping the camera on your dripping sex and his hard cock as he leans down to kiss you, your lips connect for the first time and you easily melt into him. His kiss is long and passionate, his hands touching your hair gently and you sigh dreamily into his mouth as he wraps his tongue around yours, easily dominating you. 

You’d both been crushing way too damn long. All the dirty jokes, the lingering glances, and subtle touches finally explode as he presses you down into the leather beneath you

His hands roam over her body, squeezing her ass and rubbing your clit in slow torturous circles while you’re spreading yourself open for him more. 

"God you're so fucking hot," he murmurs between kisses, getting more worked up by the second. With one swift motion, he slides inside her, groaning at how tight and wet she feels. 

“Y-you’re not so bad yourself” Your voice is high-pitched as he bottoms out, holding it there for a minute. He hands you back his phone, hitting the record button again 

“Oh you’re not gonna wanna miss this”

Buck smirks, thrusting into her harder and faster, his grip on her waist tightening. "Fuck yeah, that's it," he encourages her, loving the way she responds to his touch. The sensation of her pussy gripping his cock sends shivers down his spine, making him want to pound into her even harder 

“H-harder please- fuck go harder” 

Buck growls lowly, "You like that, huh?" he asks, giving her exactly what she wants. He pounds into her relentlessly, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the confined space of the SUV. His eyes roll back in pleasure, and he knows he won't last much longer. "Almost there, pretty girl," he warns her, his breath coming in short pants.

“Cum in me” She holds him to her, her nails dragging down his back, decorating his skin with pretty red lines

“Wanna go the rest of the shift feeling you inside me”

A shiver runs through Buck's body at your request, and he can feel his orgasm building up. "Fuck, yes," he groans, thrusting into you one final time before releasing his load inside you. 

You sob out his name, cumming with him as he holds himself inside you, filling you with every last drop and loving the way your head tilts back into the seat, your body writhing underneath him as you finish

He lets out a satisfied little sigh, burying his face in your neck as he comes down from his high. "Damn, that was hot," he whispers, his breathing still labored. She nods along with him, panting softly in his ear 

“Sooo hot” 

“We should totally, totally do this again” Buck mumbles as he sits up, and lies back on the seat. He opens his arms and you push yourself up slowly, groaning at the soreness in your muscles, and collapse back on top of him where he cuddles you to his chest 

“Every chance we get, really” you agree and he snickers, rubbing your back slowly 

“So like… before we go further…”

“Are you gonna ask me “what are we?” You giggle and he rolls his eyes, blushing 

“Maybe. Shut up.” 

You look at him, your palms flat on his chest, your head resting on them “What do you think we are? Or rather, what do you want us to be?” 

Buck shrugs, his hands moving up and down your sides, he can’t stop touching you 

“Me? Personally? Would definitely prefer it if only my girlfriend filmed me fucking the shit out of her. But that’s just me…” 

“So if I was your girlfriend…. We could make more? maybe, possibly?” You ask quietly and his cheeks flush deeply 

“Isss that something you want to do? M-make uh- make pornos w-with me?”

“Only if you’ll be my boyfriend” You wink and he smacks your ass, gripping it tightly and pulling you against him suddenly to kiss you

“Oh fuck yes”

[dira333]

Caught a kiss - Amajiki x Reader

for @missalienqueen - hope this was the vibe you were looking for - Follower Celebration Request

You are going to lose your job.

It’s as easy as that and just as painful to accept.

You have less than 24 hours to deliver your final draft; all you’ve got so far are the villain's design, the hero’s parents and best friend, and a rough draft of what you want to happen. Oh, and about twelve crappy drafts of the hero, every single one worse than the one before.

The hero with the strength quirk is just a cheap version of All Might and has been overdone for ages. The hero that looks dark and sinister but is actually a sweetheart reminds you too much of former Pro Hero Eraserhead and you don’t want anyone to accuse you of using your former teacher for your work. 

One should think that coming up with new ideas comes easier after three successful book deals, but the opposite is the problem. 

.

After more than six months of creative block, you cannot hide it any longer from the publisher or your writing partner, but you will be damned if you give up before your time has fully run out.

You get up with a heavy sigh, hoping against all odds that another cup of coffee will solve your problems. 

Just as you push yourself up, an explosion goes off outside, its force strong enough to leave the floor trembling. You stumble, but your balance is off and you knock heavily into your table. Your hip and thigh hurt from the impact but you try to get up, only to be knocked to the other side by the second blast, the explosion even closer this time. 

“Here.” Someone cushions your fall with their body. You look up into a pale face, almond-shaped eyes filled with worry as they take you in. Right. It’s the person who always sits ducked into the corner booth, fully engrossed in a book every time you come in to write. So far you’ve never seen more of him than the messy indigo hair that is not hidden behind his book. You can’t help yourself but take him in now that you’re this close. His mouth is a tight line and his ears… your heart lurches at the sight of their pointed tips. It makes him look like an elf.

“A-A-Are you okay?” The man stutters and you nod, blink yourself out of your stupor only to realize that you’re leaning way too heavily into him. All he did was keep you from falling over and you’re repaying the favor by putting all your weight onto him.

“Oh, oh, I’m sorry.”

“I-It’s o-okay.” His mouth pulls into an even firmer line and he looks past you. Whatever he sees has his eyes widening and you turn to see for yourself, only to be pulled down.

“Stay here.” He insists, voice suddenly firm. “Hide in the booth.”

Another explosion rings out, the sound deafening this time. When the ringing stops, he’s gone from your side. From your new hiding space, you can see him, walking upright to the door. 

He’s a dichotomy, soft indigo cardigan wrapped around his lanky figure as if trying to protect him from the harshness of the world, but his steps are firm and his posture speaks of determination. You can tell that he knows what he’s doing in the way he utters short commands to the other people in the coffee shop.

-

The next time you see him is half an hour later when the police are taking statements.

He’s standing a bit to the side and someone must have brought him his hero costume, but you’d recognize that indigo hair everywhere, even if it’s partially hidden by a white hood. 

“I didn’t see much.” You say, eyes never leaving the guy who, in your eyes, saved the day. “After he… I’m sorry, I don’t know his name, but the Hero in the white tunic… After he stepped out, I briefly saw a group of men with black suits and black face paint. And then, a few minutes later, one of them ran this way.” You point down the street. “But he was wearing something else. Something red on his head, like a wig, maybe?”

The police officer gives you a skeptical look. “Are you sure? You’re the only one who pointed that out.”

“I mean, I could be wrong, I’m not sure if it was a wig or not. Did no one else see someone running?”

“They did, but they all agree it was a civilian.”

“No, it was definitely not a civilian. I saw his face and while it didn’t have any facepaint on, it was clear that he wasn’t frightened. He looked pissed. No civilian would run around looking like that after such explosions and a bank robbery going on at the same time, don’t you think.”

“We’ll look into it.” The officer says, noncommittally and leaves you in favor of talking to someone else. 

Your eyes immediately wander back to the hero who saved you and your legs seem to take that as an order to get you over to where he stands.

“Hi.” You start, surprised to see that he blushes instantly, head pulling back into the safety of his hood. “I-I’m sorry.” You start to stutter, “I’m normally not that forward, but I-I just wanted to tell you how amazing I thought you were.”

“T-thank you.” He whispers back and you wait, hoping for something more for him, but if he does say something, it gets swallowed by the booming laughter of a much larger man.

Fatgum, you know him from TV, steps closer. One of his hands lands heavy on the first man’s back.

“Don’t mind Suneater here. He’s a great hero, just a little shy with words. I heard you’re the one who’s convinced she spotted someone fleeing from the scene?”

“Uh, yes.” You try to catch Suneater’s eye but he’s looking at the floor as if he suspects to find the secret to immortal life down there. “But I told the police everything. I’m just good with faces, I guess. I just… I just wanted to say thank you. To Suneater, I mean. Because he saved me, in the coffee shop before.”

“Oh, he did?” Fatgum seems to find that incredibly funny because he laughs again, pulling Suneater into his side to the point that he almost swallows him whole. 

“I think he’d gladly do it again. Nothing too much for my guy. Hope we did not keep you from anything important.”

“Oh, just my draft.” You sigh, before realizing that your drawing pad is still in the shop and you have even less time now to save your job. But, there’s an idea forming in your mind just now.

“Would it… would it be okay, to use you? I mean, your hero persona, or your… likeness, for a manga?”

Suneater freezes up, elbows locking tightly against his ribs. He looks like a wooden puppet, unable to move.

“It’s supposed to be a story about a boy overcoming all odds to be a hero and when he meets the evil villain, he realizes that what he’s learned makes him the most capable to deal with him. I’ve struggled to find a story to tell but if I could… draw a hero that’s a bit shy and didn’t like attention all that much, that could resonate with a lot of children, you know? We’d call him differently, of course, and I could change the looks, but I kinda.. well, I really like your costume, it’s very…” You clear your throat awkwardly, too aware of Fatgum’s growing grin and Suneater’s growing stiffness. “Aesthetically pleasing. Yes, hmm.. It’s the aesthetic.”

“That’s a big honor,” Fatgum speaks up on Suneater’s behalf when the latter seems unable to open his mouth. “As his boss, I give you the okay. But you should leave your card or something with us so that we can have a look at the product before it gets published.”

“Oh, absolutely.” You pull a card out of your blazer pocket and hold it out to Suneater who eyes it as if it might come alive and eat him any moment. So you offer it to Fatgum who takes it with a wide smile.

-

Your drawing pad is still where you left it. You grab a new cup of coffee from the jittery barista and insist on paying for it even though she offers one for free after today’s events. 

“I’ll feel better if I pay for it,” you insist, knowing that there will be enough people taking advantage of it as it is.  

The drink grows cold next to your pad as you draw, engrossed in the story you’ve got to tell now. It’s only the time crunch you’re in that keeps you from going overboard on your hero’s features. You want to stay on the page, take your time until you get his ears right or the exact shade of his hair. In some drafts, it turns out too messy, in others too neat and you wonder if you could ask him to stand model for you, just to get a hang of the way it falls. 

Then it’s the color of his eyes. You thought they’d been a deep purple when you looked up into them hours ago, but it had been but a brief moment and you long to see them again.

It’s way past closing time when the friendly barista is finally annoyed enough to throw you out. You stumble home, eat a sandwich from the vending machine on the way up to your apartment, and get back to drawing. 

Your alarm goes off right after you put down your pen.

Your draft is finished and you lay down for a quick nap that is filled with a now familiar face. 

x

If anyone knew he was here again, Tamaki would surely lose his hero license. 

There had to be some rule against stalker behaviour but he wasn’t going to go up to HR to ask about it. 

The barista nods when he comes in, accustomed to his presence by now.

Thankfully it isn’t the same one as yesterday and this guy doesn’t seem to know he had been involved in yesterday’s shenanigans. This is embarrassing enough without people recognizing him.

He grabs his lavender tea and takes his usual seat, burying himself in the book he brought along today. “Chivalrous Hero: Crimson Riot - How I came to be” isn’t exactly his top choice of literature but Kirishima had urged him to read it and he might as well.

Nine o’clock comes and goes without any sign of you. 

He has to leave around half past ten and he can feel himself grow more and more anxious the later it gets.

Maybe you are breaking your habit of coming here after yesterday’s events.

He certainly can’t blame you for that. 

Or you realized that he’d been here every time you went there too and connected the dots. 

Surely it has to be that. No one can blame it on sheer coincidence for this long.

He should have just bitten the bullet weeks ago when he noticed you and asked you out then and there or stopped visiting when he felt his interest grow. 

Like a man, his inner voice reprimands him, sounding vaguely like Kirishima.

At ten o’clock on the spot the bell over the door chimes. He turns to look on instinct and feels the book drop into his lap without being able to catch it.

You look tired, to the point he wonders if you’ve even slept at all. Even with makeup, it isn’t hard to tell that you’re going to keel over from exhaustion any second, but still, there is a smile on your face that can rival the sun.

Your eyes move through the coffee shop, shoulders relaxing at the tune that is coming from the speakers. 

Out of habit he moves to pull his book higher to cover his face but finds his hands empty. Before he can realize why that is, your eyes cut to his. 

One, two, three seconds he feels time freeze and his heart stops beating. 

Then, just like the sun rises, your smile changes… into something almost shy and private, something he’s never seen on you before.

You duck your head and walk over, making his heart skip from non-beating to beating too fast. His blood soars in his ears and he still can’t find the damn book to hide behind. And now it’s too late for that anyway because you’re standing in front of him, the shy smile curling around your lips in a way that makes his knees feel way too wobbly.

“Can I sit with you?” You ask and he nods before he can stop himself. 

Your knees knock against his as you slip into the booth.

He takes in a breath and regrets it immediately when he can smell your perfume again. 

“I was hoping I could meet you again.” You say, pulling something from your bag. “I wanted to show you what I draw… I was… so blocked, I couldn’t draw for months but when I saw you, something clicked and I…” You stop your movements, something like a tablet in your hands. You look down in what he recognizes as embarrassment. He’s too familiar with that feeling not to recognize it on sight.

“It’s okay.” He can hear himself say. He’s not sure what he’s even trying to say, but he can feel his lips move and that’s better than what he does most days. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me. I should say sorry anyway. I’ve been sitting here for weeks trying to talk to you and couldn’t get over myself.”

Wait, he thinks, panic bubbling in his stomach. Did he just… say that?

Your mouth is open, your eyes wide. You certainly look like you heard what he just thought out loud.

“You were trying to talk to me?” You ask. “Why didn’t you-” You seem to realize that he’s starting to sink into himself, that he’s actively trying to merge with the booth and stop speaking. 

That’s it, he thinks. He knew it would turn out this way, he should have gotten over himself sooner.

“Here.” Your voice cuts into his miserable thoughts again, pulling him away from trying to sneak out of the booth. “Look at this.”

You turn your pad to him. There he is, or at least, someone looking a lot like him.

It’s a rough sketch of him, mid-fight. He recognizes the tentacles coming from his hands immediately. When his hands meet the monitor, the page turns and there’s the villain, telling his story of origin. There’s no text, but his face makes it clear that it’s a sad story. 

But there he is again, Suneater saving the day, hugging the villain in the end to prove that even the bad guys can be friends if you treat them nicely.

“If you want,” you say, your voice low as if you’re letting him in on a secret. “I’d like to get to know you better. Not just for this project, but… like… on a date?”

You wave your hand in front of his face. “A-Are you okay? You’re not blinking?”

“Sorry,” he chokes out, digs his fingernails into his arm to pinch himself. Yeah, he’s not dreaming. “I’m…”

“I meant it.” You assure him, put your hand where he just drew blood. “If you want. No pressure though.”

He’s still looking for words when you pull back your pad, clearly trying to give him some space.

“I… have to leave in a few minutes.” He points out, glares at the tabletop to keep his nerves. “But do you want a coffee?”

--- one weeks later ---

You’re already there when he steps into the coffee shop. You’re at work, which he can tell by the fact that you don’t even look up when he slips into the booth and puts a fresh cup of coffee next to your pad.

“Hey.” He gently pats your thigh. A few days ago that wouldn’t have been possible, but you pointed out that it’s the safest way to get your attention without messing up your work and he’s actively trying to get over himself, so there…

“Oh, hey!” You smile up at him, lean back to stretch your back out and move to press a kiss to his cheek. 

His face bursts into flames. Not literally, but figuratively and you giggle against he hot skin before pressing another kiss on his other cheek.

“Missed you.” You say nonchalantly as if that doesn’t make his heart lose a few beats.

It takes him half an hour of passive cuddling to get his heart to calm down and his brain to unmelt before he remembers what he’s supposed to tell you.

“They caught the last member of the group.” He points out when you move to take a sip of your now cold coffee.

“What?”

“The guy you saw, the one wearing a red wig? They caught him. Detective Tsukauchi said your hunch was too good to ignore and they caught him. Turns out he was the head of the gang after all. So you’re the real hero of that day.”

“What? No. It was you. Or Detective Tsukume.”

“Tsukauchi.”

“Exactly. I just pointed out something obvious. Like that.” You press your thumb against the corner of his mouth. “You’ve got something caught there.”

“What is it?” He asks, already anxious as you lean in.

“A kiss.”

His mind goes blank way before your lips meet. 

But, he supposes he doesn’t need his brain for a few more minutes anyway.

My Kofi if you want to tip me

[chilschuck]

woahhhh you should totally write about chilchuck dealing with a reader whos obsessed with bugs and keeps annoying him with them ahahaaaa twirls my hair

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ HERE IT IS. FINALLY. i know you wanted me to reply to the other ask for this but i thought having this one would make more sense. happy i could finally get this out for you!!

— CHILCHUCK: x gn!reader who likes bugs hcs.

꒰ warnings: ꒱ ment of bugs & insects!! reader is really into entomology. sfw + sweet n’ fluffy!

꒰ wc: ꒱ 575

✦ sorry this isn’t super long, i’m in the middle of finals week so i’m struggling creatively rn. :”))) i can write more for you after this is over fr!!

✦ You decided to venture down to the beginning levels of the dungeon for one reason only: entomology research. The dungeon, rich with all kinds of monsters, had attracted you to its depths for a chance to discover more than you could just on the surface.

✦ Meeting Chilchuck was an added perk. Coming across Laios’ party at the upper levels was the best thing that could’ve happened to you at that moment. Now you had a party to explore with, and even a half-foot to aggravate.

✦ And oh, how easy it was to irritate him. You’d scoop up anything that you’d find and immediately show it off to him. At first, he’d give you an unamused look and tell you to cut it out, afraid just what you’d picked up this time.

✦ Except when you started telling him about it. You’d find a treasure insect or point out a cleaner at work, giving him all the facts you knew. Occasionally he’d actually listen to you talk, finding it almost… relaxing?

✦ It wasn’t that he was completely uninterested, but you had started to grow on him the more you shared what you knew. Hearing you speak about the insects you have on the surface and how you cared for them definitely made him curious. He never knew so much time and dedication went into stuff like that.

“Look at this one, Chilchuck!” In your hand was an insect you had come across on the floor your party decided to rest on. With excited eyes, you began pointing out all the parts, their functions, and even what purpose they served in the dungeon.

For some reason, Chilchuck found that sparkle in your eye when you chattered away to be… endearing, almost. He couldn’t help but feel the corners of his mouth tug into a smile, encouraging you to keep going. After all, this was what you were passionate about. Unlike Laios’ obsession with monsters, your knowledge didn’t make you seem sick in the head; it made you unique.

✦ Chilchuck soon would find himself pointing things out to you and asking questions of his own. Maybe about what that particular insect was, what it did, maybe if it was rare or not. And more than happily, you answered him in kind.

✦ Even if you drove him crazy sometimes with shoving something in his face, he found that your presence was comforting. Having someone else here besides Laios (or even Senshi) that knew about some of the dungeon’s creatures was nice. You two would even entertain each other by sharing things you knew about insects on the surface or in the dungeon. (Not that he knew much...)

✦ Sometimes he’d even have you talk to him at night while the rest of the party got ready for bed. It wasn’t that your words put him to sleep, it was more that your voice had begun to bring him comfort. Chilchuck could feel his eyes growing heavy when you told him about some of the insects you liked on the surface, and soon enough you had managed to lull him to sleep with just the sound of your voice.

✦ Eventually you’d probably be able to get him to actually hold something. Maybe he’d see that look in your eyes again and swallow down his pride, holding out his hands to whatever you found this time. That happy look on your face made it all worth it.

[writingonleaves]

write me into your thoughts (i'll be safe with the words on the page) - jack hughes

pairing: jack hughes x amelie fishel (reckless driving au)

warnings: swearing, not proofread nearly enough lol, not much else i can think of!

inspired by + title: "on the page" by maggie rogers

word count: 15k

author's note: hi everyone! thank you for your patience. i had a wonderful time writing this one - it's always fun digging into jack and amelie's relationship. this is a part two, so if you haven't already, please read part one here! please let me know what you think and flood my inbox with all your thoughts!! worlds like this only come alive with you all, so any feedback you have, i'd love to hear it. i hope you enjoy❤️

taglist: @ru-kru, @bunbunbl0gs (lmk if you wanna be added)

amelie

Their first official date happens later than both Amelie and Jack would’ve liked.

They have to postpone it twice. The first is because Amelie is assigned to cover an Islanders pre-season game last minute. The second is because Jack forgets that he has a thing with Hockey in New Jersey until the night before. Both of them wanted to get away in Prague with just each other for a few hours but it proved to be too complicated, both with the actual scheduling and wanting to keep it on the down low from the team, especially because they’re not really anything yet and she just started the job and he respects that.

The Devils had asked her to tag along with some of the guys even on their off day to compile some sort of photo collage. They didn’t really give her many instructions, so she took that as an invitation to be creative. She switched between disposable, digital and film and had a lot of fun doing it, tagging along as they did touristy things and enjoyed each other’s company during meals. 

At first, she was a bit intimidated at inserting herself into a group of guys who had just met. It took her the first full season of covering Michigan hockey before she even felt comfortable. But Curtis Lazar specifically took her in, introducing his family to her and treating her like an uncle would. Amelie just let the guys riff off each other while she snapped pictures whenever it felt right. Whatever she did, the team seemed to like, and that’s more than okay with her. 

(She got some awesome pictures of a few of them on film that she didn’t necessarily think are the best to put out to the public but she thinks they or their families might appreciate them. She saves those, and vows to herself to try to do that as much as she can, making sure that her love of photography doesn’t just boil down to her job. 

She has more than a few pictures of Jack, whether purposefully or not. They’ll be of use someday.)

The time they got to really let loose was the night after the second game, with everyone in high spirits after winning both games against Buffalo. Amelie had squeezed Seamus for an extra long time when she first saw him after the game and everyone was dressed to go out. 

Both of them being rookies as Wolverine alums. It’s kinda touching. At least, everyone else thinks it does. Amelie does too, really, but she’s just trying not to fuck up at her very new and very cool job. The sentimentality of it all hasn’t quite hit her yet.

She’s trying to ignore Jack’s eyes that seem to always be on her. Right now, she just needs to focus on Prague and then deal with whatever that is when they get back to Jersey. 

The day after the Devils home opener, she gets a text from Jack.

Jack Hughes

is today finally the day?

Amelie Fishel

i’m free! are you?

Jack Hughes

;)

just got out of morning skate 

lunch? and we can walk around after?

or would you rather do dinner?

Amelie Fishel

lunch sounds good

you want me to pick a place?

Jack Hughes

i got it 

11:30 okay? i’ll pick you up

Amelie Fishel

that’s perfect 

see you soon!!

Amelie swallows as she looks into her closet. It doesn’t really matter. Jack’s seen her going-out outfits as well as her lounging at home fits. But she wants to feel good and comfortable because she doesn’t really know what to expect.

She’s surprised Jack has seemed to be so receptive, even though she’s the one who messed it all up that July night. 

With a white sweater and black leggings on, she ties a black ribbon into her hair and takes a deep breath, just as her phone buzzes. 

Jack Hughes

what’s your apt #

Amelie Fishel

6A

She spritzes her perfume on just as she hears a knock on her door. She grabs her bag, slips on her boots and goes to open the front door. 

Amelie swallows as she opens the door. Jack looks up from his phone, quickly slips it into his pocket, and smiles sweetly. He’s wearing an olive green jacket over a white shirt, tucked into blue jeans. His curls look good and she takes a deep breath.

“Hi,” he breathes out.

“Hey.” She looks down at the singular pink tulip in his hand.

He clears his throat. “I, uh, walked past the floral shop like, a block away from here? And I just..thought of you.”

“Oh,” she mutters softly. “Thank you. Let me put it in a vase and then we’ll head out.”

“Yeah, of course,” he says. “Take your time.”

Amelie fetches a mason jar and cuts the stem so that it’s proportionate. After admiring it for a second as it sits on her kitchen table, she walks back to the door, making sure she has her keys. She debates reaching for his hand, but she doesn’t, as they walk towards the elevator. 

She notices that he leaves some distance between them as he leans his back against the wall. She must be giving him a look without realizing, because he lets out a nervous laugh. “What?”

“What?”

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re making me nervous.”

“How?”

“I don’t know!” She vaguely gestures. “Why are you so…quiet?”

He laughs, and she smiles at the sound. “Sorry,” he says genuinely. “I’m not trying to be…I just don’t wanna mess this up again.”

All humor washes away from Amelie’s face as her stomach churns, watching Jack fidget. “I’m the one that lied to you, Jack,” she says softly. “You have nothing to make up for.”

“Maybe,” he admits. “But that doesn’t mean I didn’t do things wrong either. I wanna do it right this time. I’m sorry if I’m being weird.”

She can’t take it anymore, scooting herself closer to him and intertwining their hands together. Immediately, he squeezes them.

This might be their first official date. But she thinks she’s been his for awhile now, Even when they weren’t talking. 

In hindsight, Amelie knew that lying to Jack, even if it was only for a few days, was the wrong move the second she did it. It took talking to her sisters, some friends and fucking Ethan Edwards for her to stop beating herself up about it so much and focus on moving forward and making it better (“if that’s something you want to do,” Ethan had added over the phone when she was close to hyperventilating. “You have endless chances to make up for lying. It’s obvious he still cares about you. You just need to do something about it. He’d forgive you in a heartbeat, Ami.”) 

She had convinced herself that Jack wouldn’t want to hear her out, and that working adjacent with his team would just be filled with polite exchanges and nothing more. But then they locked eyes at Media Day and he caught her trying to get herself together and told her that he’d always say yes to her, whatever the fuck that means. 

They’re walking out to the parking lot when Jack tugs their hands to a light stop in front of his car. He opens the passenger seat door, but pauses. She turns to him in confusion. 

“You okay?” He asks, eyebrows pinched in concern. “I lost you for a bit.”

She tries to smile convincingly. “Yeah. Sorry.”

“Amelie, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” he swallows. “If you-”

“No,” she says firmly, slipping into the seat. She’s not gonna let misunderstandings come between them again. “I want to do this. I’m just…freaking out a bit?”

He starts the engine before turning towards her. “Yeah, yeah. I get that. It’s just me though.”

She huffs. Because that’s partially the problem. She changes the subject. “Where are we going?”

“Clee likes this place called Elysian Cafe? I think it’s French.”

Amelie hums. “Sounds good.” She looks over to him. “Who knows this is happening?”

“The date?”

“Yeah.”

“Luke and Clee, obviously. Quinn. Probably Nico through Clee. Or me. I probably mentioned it to him. Why?”

She shrugs. “Just want to know what I’m working with.”

“Who knows on your end?”

“Just Col and Char,” she chuckles slightly at the memory. “They’re the ones who convinced me to try again in the first place.”

“Then I know who I have to thank,” Jack smiles. “You-I hope that’s okay that I told them?”

She shrugs. “They’re your siblings. Or dating one of them. I wouldn’t have any right to feel upset, especially because I did the same thing.”

“But you work with two of them.”

Right. Yeah. Part of the reason they had their whole misunderstanding in the summer. She takes a deep breath. “Yeah. I’m trying to get over that hump for myself. But it’s not something neither of us can control, I guess.”

He becomes quiet, before, “I’m sorry I didn’t understand that before, like, why that mattered so much to you.”

She blinks as they wait at a light, the turn signal flicking being their only soundtrack. “That’s okay. I lied to you, so we were both in the wrong.”

“But you did it for good reason and I didn’t see that at the time,” he runs a hand through his hair. 

Amelie swallows down any doubt and leans over to kiss Jack lightly on the cheek. “I appreciate that. Thank you.”

One side of his lips quirk up into his signature smirk. Amelie doesn’t even roll her eyes. “So how’s the start of the job been? Busy?”

“Very,” she settles back in the seat. “But good. Media day was nuts, as you saw. Prague was really fun. Pre-season was good but crazy. I’m sure I’ll get used to it soon.”

“Have you been able to explore Jersey much? Or go into Manhattan?”

“Not really,” she admits. “When I do have free time I’ve been unpacking and sleeping. I’m on duty for the Rangers when you guys are on the road trip though so maybe I’ll have more time to explore the city then if I’m not too tired.”

He pouts slightly. “What am I supposed to be telling everyone? That my girlfriend works for the enemy?”

“I work for your team too, loser,” she shoots back, before hesitating. “Girlfriend’s a bit presumptuous, no?”

“It is,” he admits. “But I’m hoping by the end of this date and however many more that I can make it an easier decision for you.”

Amelie’s half stunned at his boldness. But then she remembers that they have kissed multiple times. It just feels different without the fragility of summer and Michigan. It feels different in New Jersey. Almost forbidden. But she knows those are just boundaries she’s put up all on her own.

She tries to push that down. She can’t keep getting lost in her own head. Jack’s right here. “How about you? Season starting out okay? Is that a stupid question?”

He chuckles. “Season’s good, I think. Prague was definitely very fun. I don’t know. You don’t wanna look too ahead, you know? Just focus on the next few games. Work on what you need to work on.”

Amelie can’t help but snort. “Very diplomatic of you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Did you spit that out to a journalist earlier?”

He sputters, “You asked!”

She chuckles. “I know.”

When they reach the restaurant, they’re not even sitting down at their table yet when Amelie’s skin prickles up. She can feel someone watching them. She’s proven right when a young teenager politely asks for a picture right after they get seated. The interaction takes all of 30 seconds but Jack looks so apologetic afterwards.

“I’m sorry,” he says after the boy walks away. 

“It’s all good,” she replies sincerely before grinning with a light shrug. “I know you’re a big deal.”

“Still. I don’t-”

“Jack,” he shuts up immediately, looking at her like she’s the only person in the world. “It’s fine. I promise.” They both thank the waiter as he fills up their glasses. “How is everyone? Luke and Quinn and Clementine and all them.”

“They’re good,” he says, automatically more at ease talking about his family. “I mean, you see Luke so you know. Quinn seems to be doing well up there with the Canucks. Just start of the season stuff. And Clee’s good. Really busy at the hospital so I’ve barely seen her, to be honest.”

“Do you like living with them?”

“I love it,” he replies honestly. “Living with both of them is like, I don’t know. It feels like childhood again. But we’re all grown up and not as stupid as before. Well, me and Luke. Clee’s always been smart. But no, it’s fun living with them. I’m not sure how long it’ll be until Clee moves out so I’ll take what I can get.”

“She’s moving out?”

Jack shrugs. They both order — mussels to share for an appetizer, a burger for him and fish tacos for her. He waits until the waiter walks away. “She hasn’t said anything yet. But her and Nico are getting pretty serious. I mean, I guess they’ve only been dating for, like, 6 months, but I could see her moving in with him sooner rather than later.”

She hums. “How do you feel about that? Like, them being together. It has to be a bit weird, right?”

“It can be,” he drums his fingers on the table. “Last season, I joked a lot about it. But then it actually happened and it was like, woah, my older sister is now dating my captain and two parts of my life are combining in a way that it hasn’t before. But they’re pretty good at like, the separation I guess. Not that-I really like them together. I think they’re actually really good for each other. He calms her down and she knocks some sense into his head.” He chuckles and Amelie realizes how much she loves that sound. “I would’ve introduced them earlier if I’d known how good they would be together.”

“I can’t imagine living with either of my sisters, to be honest, even if I love them.”

“Why is that?”

“I think I need my own space.”

He hums, and before she can overthink about how that may come across, he switches topics. “So what did you get up to the rest of the summer?”

Overthinking about how I left things with you is the honest answer, but they don’t need to get into that. “Not much, I guess. Packed. Hung around. Saw some friends. Went to a concert.”

“Who did you see?”

“I don’t know if you know her. Lizzy McAlpine?”

“I don’t. Text me some of your favorite songs from her later. I’ll listen to them.”

She chuckles. “I don’t really think it’s your type of music.”

“What’s your favorite song by her?”

“Uh uh,” she teases with a wry smile. “You don’t get to have that information yet.”

“I’ll earn it,” he says, a bit too seriously for their topic of conversation. “So, concerts. You know, everyone usually comes by to New York City. I’m sure you’ll be able to catch some people there.”

“You an expert on NYC?”

Jack shrugs. “Not really, considering, you know, all this. But when we have a few days off I like to go in. I have some spots I enjoy a lot.”

“We should go in sometime and you can show me your spots.”

His lips spread slowly into a grin. “Yeah?”

She nods, looking down at her lap. “Yeah. Whenever I get my feet under me.”

“It seems like you’re handling everything just fine,” he says.

Amelie lets out a laugh as she leans back. “I’m really good at faking it.”

“Luke misses you.”

“I just saw him yesterday.”

“No, I know, but like, just hanging out with you. He’s started bugging me about the three of us hanging out like we did in Michigan.”

“We’re not in Michigan anymore.”

“Sure, but what’s the difference?”

She’s saved from answering as their food comes. 

Lunch is delicious and fun and light and Jack is exactly how she remembers from the summer, even if the October chill is settling in and they’re not in the MIchigan sunshine anymore. Seeing Jack against the windows of a cafe in Hoboken, looking at ease, at her, nothing has changed between them. But also, so many things have. 

She wishes she could fully enjoy and let go of … whatever has been in her gut since she hid her sobs in her hand at her grandparents’ house. Jack has been doing everything right and she’s trying to enjoy herself. 

(She’s scared)

They decide to walk around for a bit after they eat, not wanting to leave each other’s company quite yet. They’re walking through a park and admiring the empty fountain when Jack laughs. 

“Uh oh.” 

She’s confused. “What?”

Jack chuckles, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I don’t know. You look like you’re about to say something that you don’t think I’m gonna like.”

She blinks. Fuck. “Am I that obvious?”

“No,” he admits. “Lucky guess. Or maybe I just know you. Spill. What’s going on in that pretty head?”

She stares at her shoes.  Be brave, she tells herself. “Can you-can we take this slow? I-I know that we aren’t really starting from step one but I-I,” she trails off, trying to steady her voice.

“Hey,” he mutters softly, pulling her to the side of the path so they don’t block people. “I was kidding earlier about the girlfriend stuff. I don’t care about that. I care about you and whatever pace you want to go at. Or no pace if that’s something you also want to do.”

“And you’d be okay with no pace at all?”

She stares at his adam's apple bopping up and down. “If that’s what you wanted. I’m obviously not, not gonna force you into anything you don’t want to be in. I’m not that much of an asshole.” He chuckles weakly. 

She realizes suddenly that Jack actually thinks there’s a chance of her turning him down. A chance of her saying she doesn’t want anything to do with him, which is definitely not the case. She knows she wants him. She just doesn’t know what that looks like yet, which is why:

“We can take it slow?” She asks. 

“Whatever pace you want,” he assures. “Whatever you want.”

“And the team?”

“What about the team?”

“Well, they’ll have to know, right? I might not work for the Devils directly but there’s a conflict of interest there.”

“They don’t have to know anything,” he assures. “Definitely not yet. Once they do, we’ll figure it out together.”

She bites her lip, because yeah, that sounds nice, but he’s untouchable in the grand scheme of things. She’s much more disposable in comparison. “Jack.”

“We’ll figure it out together,” he repeats. “I promise.”

And promises have never really meant much to Amelie. But the look in Jack’s eyes is so comforting and insistent that she can’t do anything but believe him.

*****

jack

It’s getting colder now, as it does in early to mid October in Jersey. Jack rubs his hands together as he locks his car. He has the day off today after playing the Caps last night and Amelie also has the day off. The plan is to spend a day in New York City. He hasn’t heard from her this morning, which is a bit unusual, but that doesn’t phase him as he enters the elevator and then stops in front of Amelie’s apartment. 

Three crisp knocks and he’s shoving his hands in his coat pockets and rocking back and forth. It takes upwards to a minute before the door is cracked open. The automatic smile on his face quickly drops into a concerned frown when he sees her. 

“Are you okay?” 

Amelie, hair messed up, in a Michigan t-shirt and flannel pajama bottoms, responds with three consecutive sneezes. “Shit,” she sniffles. “I thought I texted you.”

He closes the door behind him and lets himself in her apartment. “What happened?”

“Woke up feeling like crap,” she coughs into her elbow. “Coughing, sneezing, a bit of a sore throat. I think it’s a bad cold.”

“So no frolicking to the city, I assume?” He jokes lightly. 

Her shoulders deflate. “I’m sorry. I was really looking forward to it..”

“No stress,” he assures gently. He untangles her crossed arms and squeezes her fingers gently. “Go lay down on the couch.”

Her eyebrows furrow. “Huh?”

“Do you have things in the kitchen to make soup?”

“No?” She blinks. “I was supposed to go grocery shopping tomorrow.”

He hums. “Okay. I’ll run to the store. Do you have medicine?”

She blinks again, her brain catching up. “You don’t have to stay. You’ll get sick.”

“I’m staying. Do you have medicine?” He repeats. She nods. He presses a kiss on her forehead, another wave of concern washing over him as he notes how clammy it is. “Hang tight, baby. I’ll be back soon.”

“You really don’t have to stay.”

“I want to,” Jack swallows. “If you really want me to go, I will. But you’re not feeling well, and I’d like to help out.”

A few seconds of silence before Amelie nods, rubbing her nose. “Okay. Thank you.”

“Anytime. I’ll be quick.”

It takes 30 minutes for Jack to grab ingredients from the note on his Notes app for a basic chicken noodle soup recipe that his mom sent him way back in his rookie year, some cough drops, extra cold medicine, and call Clementine in a panic to check that he isn’t forgetting anything (“She probably just needs to sleep it off,” Clementine says, traces of Nico’s voice in the background). Jack had grabbed Amelie’s keys from her counter when he left so he lets himself back in quietly, finding Amelie laying down on the couch. 

“Hey,” he announces himself with a soft voice. Amelie just lets out something between a groan and a sigh. “That bad?”

“No. I’m just being dramatic,” she pouts, scrolling through Netflix. “I wanna watch something but I know what. Do you have a preference?”

Jack starts unpacking the bag in her kitchen. “You’re the one who’s sick. I’m fine with whatever.”

“Have you ever seen La La Land?”

“I have not.”

“Of course you haven’t. We’re watching it. It’s my comfort movie.”

“Gimme, like, 15 minutes?” He asks. “I need to prepare the soup.”

“Sure,” she yawns. “I should probably take a shower.”

“You’ll definitely feel better.”

She lets her hair out of her hair tie. “Just tell me I look like shit next time.”

He gives her a look, shaking his head. “You never look like shit.”

Amelie scoffs lightly with a small smile, getting off the couch. “Sure, Jack.”

“Shoo,” he flicks his hand. “Delicious chicken noodle soup coming to you soon.”

17 minutes later, the soup is simmering on the stove and Amelie walks back out with damp hair. She coughs heartily and winces, coming to the kitchen and pouring herself a glass of water. “It smells good.”

Jack almost beams. “Thanks. An Ellen Weinberg-Hughes specialty.”

She hums. “Movie time?”

“Well, it’s one of your favorites. So we have to.”

When they get to the couch and Amelie presses play, he hesitates. He wants to put an arm around her and let her snuggle against his side, but he doesn’t want her to be uncomfortable. As the opening number starts, he doesn’t have to overthink it any longer, because she pulls the blanket over both of them and leans the side of her head against his shoulder. He swears she can feel the smile on his face when he kisses her temple. 

Two hours later, two empty bowls are on the table in front of them, there are tear streaks on Amelie’s face and Jack is a bit confused. “That’s your comfort movie?”

“Yeah. Don’t pretend you didn’t like it.”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” he blinks. “I’m just saying that it seems pretty sad to be a movie that comforts you.”

She shrugs. “It’s sad, but it’s also life. And it’s beautiful. And it’s about moments and how sometimes, things just aren’t meant to be. It’s realistic.”

He hums in affirmation. “Not a dreamer, eh?”

“I wish I was more of one,” she admits. “Sometimes I feel like I’m limiting myself because I don’t want to dream too big because I feel like I’ll inevitably be disappointed.”

“I don’t think you could disappoint anyone,” he rushes out. 

“It’s not about what other people think,” she says with a light cough, staring ahead at the TV. “It’s about what I think of myself.”

And, well, yeah. Jack knows that feeling all too well. 

“You’re doing awesome, you know?” He says, trying to offer some encouragement as they face each other, knees barely touching. “I mean, I’m not going to pretend I understand every aspect of your job, but I’ve heard from Josh and, just from seeing how hard you work and how much you care about it, especially because you’re new…don’t stress out about it. You’re doing great.”

“You think?”

“Of course.”

“Thanks.”

“You don’t sound so sure,” he teases. 

One side of her lips quirk up, as she tilts her head to the side in thought. “I guess it wasn’t really my professional life I was talking about with the whole dreamer question.”

“So your personal life?”

“Yeah. I don’t know. La La Land is so heartbreaking but it’s also, at its core, a story about love and dreams and…” She trails off, avoiding eye contact with him. 

Jack swallows. Guess he’ll be the brave one. “So you’re a romantic.”

“Is that surprising?”

“A bit. But not in a bad way.”

“I don’t know if I’ve ever let myself really believe that I am one, if that makes sense.” It doesn’t, but she pays him no mind, a furrow in her eyebrow indicating that she’s piecing her thoughts together. “I think for awhile, I just convinced myself it wouldn’t ever amount to anything. So instead of ever, I don’t know, thinking that I would find someone who really just likes me for me in that way, I figured no one ever would. Which sucks, because I’ve always wanted that.”

He wants to say so much, but nothing comes out of his mouth except for an affirming hum. “The movie was great.”

She blinks, a smile spreading on her face. “You think?”

“Yeah. But you should sleep,” he tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear. “I’m surprised you didn’t conk out during.”

Her lips turn into a pout, “I usually would fight you, but I don’t have the strength.”

“Bed or couch?”

She yawns, already leaning her head on a pillow. “I’m not moving.” Before Jack can think about what he’s going to do, she makes grabby hands in his direction. “Nap time.”

“Me too?”

“You have other places to be?” She asks, eyes already closed. 

He tucks himself next to her and pulls the blanket over them both. “Nowhere but here.”

(“Thanks for coming today,” Amelie says hours later, leaning her hip against the doorway as Jack’s about to head home. It’s already 10 p.m., and he has practice tomorrow morning. 

“Do you feel better?” He asks. She nods. “Then that’s all that matters.”

“But what if you wake up tomorrow and you’re sick? Still gonna like me then?”

And he knows she’s half-teasing, but he ducks down to leave a lingering kiss on her cheek. “Of course.”

She hums, rubbing her eyes. “And thanks for the soup. I’m gonna have enough to last me for days.”

“That was the idea.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Am I gonna see you Friday?”

“Unless I get worse, then I should be there,” she nods, before wrapping her arms around his waist. “See you later.”

“Bye, babe.”

“Wait,” he turns back around as she leans her head on the doorway. “‘Staying.’”

“Hm?”

“That’s my favorite Lizzy McAlpine song. Or one of them.”

“‘Staying?’ That’s what it’s called?” She nods. He tucks that into the back of his mind. “Okay. I’ll let you know what I think.”

“Goodnight, Jack.”

“Night.”)

amelie

It’s been a crazy month of ups and downs, but Amelie isn’t lying when she tells her family that she loves her job. 

Sometimes she feels a bit out of her element, like when she can’t get a good angle on a shot no matter how hard she tries or when the dynamics of being a part of a professional sports organization (and sometimes, with the teams she covers, it feels like multiple organizations in one) are harder to figure out than usual. But then the familiar sounds of a game flood through her ears and she reaches up to touch the ribbon in her hair — switching between red, orange or blue depending on what team she’s shooting — and she takes a deep breath and feels okay again. 

More often than not, if she’s at the Rock, she catches Jack’s eye, or a glimpse of his hair, or even just the 86 and it brings her a sense of calm. 

They don’t interact that much at work besides hellos and some stolen short conversations here or there. She’s usually busy running around during pre-game and then he’s playing when they’re actually in the same proximity. 

She has a moment after shooting an Islanders game and then getting the notification that Jack had just scored in a game against Colorado in their arena. Before she leaves the parking lot, she clicks on Jack’s contact anyways, waiting to leave a voicemail. 

“Hey, uh, congrats on the goal. Unsure if you win since the game is tied as I’m calling, but hope you guys pull it out. I don’t really know why I’m calling, to be honest. I was just thinking about you. I think we both have a day off right when you get back to Jersey, and I was wondering, if maybe you’d wanna go into Manhattan finally? Let me know. I’ll see you when you get back. Okay, bye.”

(She wakes up the next day to see she has a missed call and a voicemail from Jack

“Hey Baby. I guess I could’ve waited to call you in the morning but I didn’t want to wait. We won, by the way. And yeah, I’m totally down to go into the city when we both have a minute. I, uh, we’ll catch up when I get back. But it was really nice to hear your voice, even if just over a voicemail. Have a good day. Bye.”)

They don’t get to go to Manhattan when Jack comes back, because Amelie is asked to fill in last minute for a Flyers game. She feels like she’s more bummed about it than Jack is. Or at least outwardly. In fact, after that voicemail, they don’t really get a chance to talk until four days later, when Jack catches her at The Rock before the game against Washington.

He grabs her arm lightly and leads them to a small alcove. “Hey.”

“Hi,” she can’t help but smile. “Good skate this morning?”

“Good as can be. Bummed we couldn’t go into the city the other day.”

She sighs. “Yeah. I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault,” he hesitates, before: “Hey. What plans do you have after the game tonight?”

“Nothing?”

“Come over to mine after,” she opens her mouth but he barrels on. “Clee’s working late and Luke won’t bother us. I just, I don’t know. I feel like we haven’t been able to see each other. And you have to head over to MSG tomorrow afternoon, right? We can grab breakfast somewhere, then.” 

Amelie opens and closes her mouth two times. “You don’t think it’s too soon for me to stay over?”

His eyes widen. “Shit. I didn’t even-I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t-I wasn’t, like, I don’t expect anything. I can sleep on the couch. I just figured it would make it more convenient because we’ve been missing out on seeing each other lately. I’m gonna be tired after the game anyways and I was thinking we could just put something on TV or-”

“Okay.”

He blinks. “Okay?”

She nods before she can back out. “Yeah. I have an overnight bag in my car in case I ever get stranded somewhere and need to crash.”

“You sure?”

She can’t help but chuckle a bit. “You brought it up first, Jack. You backing out now?”

“No, of course not. But the last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable.” 

“It’s fine,” she says. And it is, really. But now that’s all she’s going to be thinking about for the rest of the day. “Seriously. It’s good. Your bed better be comfortable.”

He barks out a laugh. “It is. Great. I’ll see you later?”

“I’ll be around. Good luck.” With one last smile, he ducks out of alcove. She takes a breath, tugging at her jacket, before making her way out as well. 

Kennedy, another photographer that strictly works with the Devils that Amelie’s become fast friends with, chuckles. “You’re not slick.”

Amelie lets out a small scream, before rolling her eyes. “Fuck, Kenny! A warning next time would be nice. And it’s not anything.”

Kennedy snorts as they both walk down the hallway. “Yeah, sure.”

“No, seriously, it’s just…we’re figuring it out.”

The older girl softens. “Hey, I was just making a joke. It’s none of my business. You guys are adults.”

“It’s something,” Amelie admits. “But I just don’t quite know what yet.”

“You’ll figure it out,” Kennedy assures. “I’ve known Jack longer than I’ve known you. I know you’ll figure it out. Now, Candace just brewed a fresh pot of coffee and we need to grab some before everyone comes in.”

They’re almost too late, because Coach Keefe has just poured out his cup and Kennedy rushes over to take the carafe out of his hand as he laughs. One day Amelie will get the confidence to do that. 

“How are you settling in?” He asks Amelie kindly as Kennedy hands her a mug.

“Pretty well,” she says. “Still trying to get used to the chaos of the season but it’s been great and everyone’s been awesome.”

“I imagine that’s even more difficult when you have a bunch of schedules to balance.”

“It can get tricky,” she shrugs with a smile. “Keeps the job fresh though.”

“I bet.” A few seconds of comfortable silence sipping their respective coffees before Coach continues. “You went to the University of Michigan, right? I think I’ve seen you wearing that maize M around.”

“I did.”

“My niece is a junior in high school and thinking about doing something with sports, whether it’s business or photography or communications, probably because she’s been surrounded by the ice her whole life,” Coach Keefe laughs. “Earlier this season, Luke was talking to her about Michigan and I think he got her hooked.”

Amelie has to laugh at that. Classic Luke. “Well, I’d be happy talking to her if she wants a perspective from someone who wasn’t an athlete.”

“Would you really? I’m sure she would appreciate that.”

“Yeah, totally,” she fishes out a business card. “She can text me anytime. No promises I’ll respond too quickly, but I will as soon as I can.”

“Thank you, Amelie. Truly.”

“Of course, Coach.”

He turns back to Kennedy and jokes. “You must hate her, huh?”

Kennedy, who went to Ohio State, rolls her eyes. “With her, Shea and Luke, I feel constantly outnumbered here.”

“Don’t forget Jack,” Coach Keefe said. 

“Oh, we don’t,” Kennedy chuckles. Amelie simultaneously wants to roll her eyes at her unsubtly and slap her shoulder. Instead, she settles with a look, to which Kennedy pointedly ignores. 

After morning skate and editing what she needs to edit, Amelie heads to the grocery store for a quick run before stopping by at home to relax for a bit. She decides at the last minute to grab a bouquet of mums to put in her kitchen. After unloading her groceries, she tries to tidy up around her apartment but ultimately gives up, collapsing down on the couch. She has around an hour to kill before needing to get redressed to head back into the rink. 

What does she do with that hour? Lounge around on her couch and pick up the latest book she’s reading. A memoir that AJ, the head of Devils socials, recommended. She hasn’t read as much as she used to, due to everything changing, but snuggling into her couch even just for a little to flip pages in a book calms her down. 

When it’s time to go, she’s about to walk out the door before she stops herself, heading to the kitchen to grab a bottle of wine. That seems reasonable to give to Jack who’s inviting her over as a thank you gift, right? 

After the game, that’s when she starts getting nervous. She edits the photos she needs to, sends them to Josh, the guy in charge of Devils media, and then lingers. She drove here, but she doesn’t wanna beat Jack to his place. She starts drumming her fingers against her desk, scrolling aimlessly on her phone. She knows he also got tagged for doing media tonight too, which explains why he’s taking a bit longer. 

“Hey.”

She practically jumps out of her seat, putting her hand over her heart. “Jesus, Jack.”

“Jumpy,” he comments with a smirk before leaning against the door frame. “You good to go?”

“Yeah. Was just waiting for you.”

He grimaces. “Yeah. I should’ve given you my keys so you could chill at mine instead of here. Sorry.”

She stands up, gathering her things. “It’s fine. Can you send me your address again? I think I know where it is but I wanna make sure.”

They walk out together. People are milling about but no one questions anything. Amelie doesn’t know how she feels about that. Her phone buzzes, indicating Jack texted her his address. She’s parked on the other side of the garage but he walks her to her car anyways with a shrug, but it means a lot to her. She follows him easily to his apartment, the GPS guiding her along the way and when she parks right next to him, he somehow beats her to her own door and opens it for her. 

“Thanks,” she says quietly, getting her overnight backpack from her backseat. “Do you mind if I bring my camera bag into yours? I don’t want them to get cold or-”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” he grins, tie thrown over his shoulder and dress shirt wrinkled. He looks so handsome. “You’re not you without your cameras. You want me to grab something?”

“I’m good, thanks,” she says, locking her car. “Good game.”

“You think?”

“You got two assists and a few shot good attempts at goal,” she says with a furrowed eyebrow. “I’d consider that good, right?”

“Yeah, yeah. I just, I didn’t think you paid attention that much.”

She nudges his hip with hers as the elevator pings for each floor. “It’s kinda part of my job.”

“Is it?” He shoots back. She just rolls her eyes. “Have you eaten yet?” He asks. 

“A bit. Have you?”

“A bit,” he echoes. “I was gonna roast some veggies and make some rice. I think I have leftover chicken. Unless you want something else? Clee probably has a bunch of stuff in the fridge that we-”

“That sounds perfect,” she interrupts him. “I’m good with anything. Promise.” She waits for him to unlock his front door. “Do you mind if I jump in the shower first?”

“Not at all,” he swings upon the door. “You can just leave your stuff in the living room. Bathroom is the second door down the hall to the right.”

She quickly rummages through to grab her toiletry bag and her pajamas. “Do you have a towel I could borrow, by chance?”

“Of course. We have a bunch in the closet in there. Take any one you see.” She nods in thanks before heading to the bathroom. 

After towling her hair dry and tossing on an UW Madison sweater on she stole at some point from Colette ages ago, she pads out. Jack’s in the kitchen, back towards her, humming as he squats to check on the veggies in the oven. He’s changed out of his suit and has a Devils sweatshirt on now with gray sweatpants. His hair is damp from the shower he must’ve taken at the rink. 

He catches her staring, but to her gratitude, doesn’t say anything. She lifts up the bottle of wine she got from her bag. “I don’t know if you’re allowed to have this during the season but…”

“One glass won’t hurt,” he grins. “Thanks. You didn’t have to.”

“You invited me into your home,” she comes over to the kitchen and takes the bottle opener from his hands. “I’m not an animal.”

Dinner is simple, but it’s delicious, and in the last hours of the evening with dim lighting, both their voices are low. At some point, Luke comes out for a glass of water, entering and leaving in a flash with a salute. That should feel weird, but it doesn’t. The not-quite-a-couple-yet couple catch each other up on their days and lives and Amelie feels a ball of warmth in her stomach. 

It’s as if the clinking of Jack washing dishes — he literally whacked her hands when she tried to help — brings her out of her reverie. She waits until he’s done and sitting next to her again before:

“Hey Jack?”

In the middle of sipping his wine, Jack raises an eyebrow. He places his glass down and leans his elbows on the counter, giving her his full attention. “What’s up?”

She tries to stop fiddling with her hands, folding them on the counter. “Are-are you seeing anyone else?”

Silence, and then a soft, disbelieving, “What?”

Her mouth starts moving faster than her brain. “It’s not that I don’t trust you. Nor would I blame you, to be honest. I mean, I’m the one who’s been moving so slow and setting the boundaries and the pace and like, I get it. But-”

“I haven’t been seeing anyone else since we met.”

Her mouth snaps shut. “You-”

“I haven’t even been remotely interested in anyone else since I saw you and Suzie at the end of my driveway,” he says, eyes steadily staring into her, unflinchingly honest. “Even when you haven’t been sure about me. Even though you’re still not sure about me. Even when we had our argument. My feelings haven’t changed.”

Amelie suddenly feels ashamed. “Oh.”

One side of his lips quirk up. “Yeah. Have you been seeing anyone else?” Before she can control herself, she snorts. Jack pouts slightly. It’s cute. “What?”

“I barely have time to see you. In what world would I be seeing anyone else?”

“Hey,” he puts his hands up in defense. “I don’t know what you’re doing when I’m on the road.”

She shakes her head, staring down at her nails. “Nope. No one else.”

“Then that settles it.” Something flashes through his eyes and he rounds the corner, hoisting himself to sit on the counter. His leg brushes her side. “I’m sorry for not making that clear.”

“I’m sorry for being psycho and possessive.”

He tuts softly. “You’re not being either of those things.”

Her eyes glaze over, unfocused, as her mind takes her elsewhere. “It took three months for Cooper and I to officially get together because he was still dating around after our first date. Which was fine. It really didn’t bother me at the time. But-”

“You don’t have to explain yourself,” Jack assures. “But no. There’s been no one else for me.”

She swallows, busying herself by pouring herself out a glass of water before coming to stand inbetween his legs. She leans her forehead on his chest because she doesn’t wanna look at him when she asks her next question. “How much did Ethan tell you?”

“About Cooper?”

“Yeah.”

“Enough.” She picks her head up as he lightly rubs circles on her wrist. 

“Did he tell you why we broke up?”

“Not directly,” he leans his forehead on hers momentarily. “I’d like to hear your answer to that though, if you’d be willing.”

She squeezes her eyes shut, and chokes out, “He got tired of me.”

“I’m sure he-”

“He told me, word for word, that he got tired of me. Tired of waiting. For what? I have no fucking idea.” And fuck, it’s been well over a year since she blocked his number, but she can’t recall the breakup out loud without a crack in her voice. “Apparently he’d ‘wasted’ a year of his time on a relationship that had long run its course.”

“And had it?” Jack asks gently. “Had it run its course?”

“Maybe. But it wasn’t fair to me that he didn’t even give me a chance to fix it.”

He nods stiffly, before, “Absolute jackass.”

“Definitely,” she hoists herself up on the counter to sit next to him, careful to not spill any wine. “When we broke up, it wasn’t like I didn’t see it coming. Things were kinda rough for a month or so beforehand. But I didn’t expect for it to hurt so much. I-I felt, just, really sad. Kinda betrayed. Pretty angry. I definitely didn’t think it would fuck up my perspective on relationships as much as it did.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

She almost brushes off his apology, staring unfocused into his living room. “I wish I didn’t feel this way. But when I met you, one of the first things I thought was that it wouldn’t move past the summer because what was the point? You would get tired of me eventually.” She squeezes her eyes shut. “I know that sounds ridiculous and whiny and it’s not true, but it’s hard for my brain to believe that. If I wasn’t enough for Cooper when we were in school and just dealt with that schedule, what would happen between you and I with our schedules and careers? That’s ultimately why I shut you down in the summer, I think. But also, fuck, Cooper was kinda an ass.”

He cuts in with a loud snort, “Clearly.”

She whacks his shoulder lightly, before letting out a sigh. “You know, he showed up at a party I was at a week later with another girl.”

“Yeah. Ethan mentioned that.”

“Right. It was a hockey party.” She squeezes her eyes shut, as if that will erase her memory. “I don’t know if you’ve ever felt like this, but I felt like I wanted to crawl out of my skin and also scream my lungs out and lock myself in the bathroom and never come out. It kinda fucking sucks seeing a guy you thought you loved and loved you suddenly just throw it all away like it meant nothing. Because if he could do that so easily, who’s to say the next one won’t?” She downs the last of her wine, sighing deeply. “I’m working on remembering that I want to be in a relationship and I deserve it, but it’s really hard. I don’t blame you if you don’t wanna stick around as I’m trying to figure it out.”

Jack hops off the counter, this time stepping between her legs. She bites her lip in anticipation as he takes her hands and intertwines them, looking her dead in the eye. “Amelie. I really, really like you. Like, I-still-get-nervous-for-a-second-before-I-see-you like you. Or, I-can’t-believe-you’re-even-giving-me-a-chance like you. I’m here. I want to be here. As long as you’ll let me hang around, I will. You don’t have to be afraid to be honest with me about where you’re at. I won’t ever hold that against you.”

“But-”

“Staying, right? Your favorite Lizzy McAlpine song?”

She tilts her head in confusion. “Yeah?”

“I listened to it.”

“Okay?”

“If you’re afraid that I’m gonna just leave when my feelings suddenly disappear, which they won’t, I’m not going to do that. I’m not Cooper, okay? I’m not gonna fuck around for a month before deciding if you mean something to me, because I know what you mean to me. And I want to be here when you’re trying to figure it out. When we’re trying to figure it out, to be honest. You think I know how to be in a relationship?” He laughs at himself. “I’m bound to fuck it up somehow, probably many times, but I’m not just gonna leave when I do. I’m sticking around. I’ll stay and figure it out with you to the point where you’ll probably find me annoying. I’m not just gonna leave when things get hard.”

“But how can you promise that?”

He shrugs with a wry and somewhat defeated smile. “I can’t, I guess. You just have to trust my word.”

And to Amelie, weirdly enough, that’s the answer she was looking for. Cooper made so many empty promises. Jack’s unabashedly unsure of everything yet isn’t leaving her in the dark. 

She squeezes his hands. “I trust you.”

His swallow is visible. “Yeah?” He rasps out.

“Yeah.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“I’m sorry if that hasn’t come across.”

He shrugs, planting his hands on either side of her on the counter. “Don’t be. Part of the gig, isn’t it? Earning your trust. And I’m having the best time.”

She scoffs. “It’s not annoying?”

His signature charming smile is back as he lets out a breathy laugh. “I don’t know if you really understand the effect you have on me.”

She wants to kiss him so bad. She doesn’t, nudging him away so she can hop off the counter. “You tired?”

“Aren’t I always?”

“You choose what we watch,” she says, poking his shoulder.

He brightens up. “Cuddles?”

She rolls her eyes, but opens her arms when she collapses on the couch. Jack doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around her waist, humming in satisfaction. 

(At 1:26 a.m. Clementine walks into the living room to see the sight of both Jack and Amelie asleep on the couch, his arm securely around her waist so she doesn’t fall off, their feet both dangling off the edge. She quietly clicks off the TV, adjusts the blanket so it covers both their bodies completely and takes their empty glasses to bring to the kitchen. 

She takes a second to watch them — in a non-creepy way at all — from the dimly lit kitchen. Amelie and Jack’s chest rise and fall in unison and even when Amelie adjusts herself, Jack’s arm tightens on instinct to keep them from falling. 

Clementine smiles to herself before tiptoeing to her bedroom)

~*~*~

jack

Jack doesn’t like feeling out of his element. And when it comes to Amelie, he feels like he has no fucking clue what he’s doing, even if he fakes it well. So that’s great.

He gets to the rink, and that’s old hat. Many things have changed, but at the end of the day, it’s still hockey. Blades to the ice is a feeling as natural as walking. 

But now, knowing that some games, Amelie is more or less watching. It doesn’t distract him perse, but he definitely takes note, trying to subtly find her when he’s on the bench. It’s become a fun game for him. Sometimes, her red ribbon is easy to find. Sometimes, he thinks she’s hiding from him. 

For Jack, not putting a label has been a bit difficult, because he’s always been the kind of person who needs to categorize things in some way, more for his own brain than anything. But at the same time, it also doesn’t matter to him that they’re not official. To him, they are, and that’s how he approaches all his actions. The dating apps from his phone are long gone. When he’s not thinking about hockey, he’s thinking about her. He’s trying not to be too overbearing while also not letting Amelie even question the possibility of him not being all in. 

When he was crying in his bedroom back home in Michigan, this seemed so far out of his reach. But now Amelie’s here (her apartment is only a few miles away, even) and he’d be damn stupid if he let this go. 

He’s never been in a relationship — or whatever this is — where coordinating both their schedules has been both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because not only does she understand, but their schedules overlap a good amount. A curse because her schedule is so unique covering many teams and even if he’s free, it doesn’t mean she is and vice versa. They’re only a few weeks into the season and it’s already becoming hard to find a few hours in their days to go do something. 

Everything is at her pace. He wants to be sure that she knows that he takes that seriously and he’s not going to leave or get frustrated. 

When Amelie said that she wanted to meet Clementine, Jack practically immediately darted for his phone, asking when the resident would have some free time. She’s been almost surprisingly chill about it all, not asking that much and only bringing it up if Jack brings it up first. Which, if he thinks about it more, makes complete sense to who calm, collected, older sister and beloved-by-all Clementine Sandoval is. 

So that leads them to today, grabbing brunch in Hoboken on a Sunday morning with himself, Amelie, Clementine, Luke and Nico. Jack had asked Amelie if she wanted the latter two there or not, and she said she was okay with it. Jack hopes it brings Amelie more ease to have Nico and Luke around rather than stress. 

Jack’s leg is shaking and Luke is in the backseat as they sit in the car outside Amelie’s apartment. Luke shoves Jack’s shoulder. “Dude, stop shaking your leg. You’re stressing me out.”

“Sorry,” he responds automatically. 

“You know Clemmy. She doesn’t have a mean bone in her body.”

“I know.”

“Amelie’s scared?”

“I don’t think so. I don’t know. I just want them to get along.”

“They’ll get along,” Luke says matter-of-factly. “It’s Clemmy. And it’s Amelie. And me and Cap are there. How bad could it go?”

Jack just sighs. It’s not going to go badly. It won’t. 

Honestly, it can’t. 

It’s that he’s always felt that Clementine brings out the best version of himself and she’s one of the biggest parts of his life. If there’s an inkling of this not going well, he doesn't know what he’s going to do. 

“Chill, man,” Luke says as Amelie floats through the front door. Jack is momentarily mesmerized by her maroon scarf and the white bow in her hair as she spots him, paddling over to his car. She’s about to go in the backseat, but Luke gestures to her through the window to take the front.

“Hi,” she breathes out, slipping in and shutting the door. She turns around to face Luke. “You didn’t have to leave me the front.”

“I wasn’t in the mood to hear Jack’s bitching and moaning,” Luke deadpans, a small smile peeking through as Amelie chuckles. 

Jack is about to shoot something back at his brother but then Amelie reaches over to squeeze his hand. He immediately relaxes. “Well, step on it,” Amelie jokes lightly. “We don’t wanna be late.”

“You look really nice,” Jack says, pulling out onto the road. 

“Thanks,” she responds quietly. “You do too. You too, Luke.”

“Thank you,” Luke sings. Jack isn’t looking at him but he knows that half-smile smirk thing that drives Jack bonkers is on Luke’s lips. 

“You excited?” Jack asks. 

Amelie coughs. “I’m scared as shit.” Luke snorts in the back. Amelie doesn’t even look as she whacks his knee. Jack knew he liked her for a reason. “No, I’ll be fine. I just want her to like me, that’s all.”

“She will,” Jack assures. 

They don’t talk much the rest of the ride, Amelie singing softly under her breath. He realizes that everytime they’re in a car together, Amelie has to sing, almost like she can’t control herself. It’s so endearing. 

Jack sees Clementine through the window of the restaurant in the middle of laughing at something Nico is saying. He internally rolls her eyes. They’re so gross. He flashes one last reassuring smile at Amelie before he leads them in, Luke holding the door for all three of them. 

Clementine sees the trio come in immediately and grins. “Hi Jacky.”

He narrows his eyes. “Hello.”

“Chill out,” she says. “Hey Lukey. And Amelie!” Clementine stands up, engulfing her in a hug. Jack can’t see Amelie’s face. “It’s so nice to meet you finally! I’ve heard so much about you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too,” Amelie says, pulling away with a small smile. “Hi Nico.”

The captain just smiles at her warmly. “Hey Amelie.”

“Have you guys ordered yet?” Jack asks as they all sit down. 

Clementine snorts. “No. We were waiting for your slow ass.”

“I am right on time, actually,” Jack snaps back.

Clementine ignores him, turning to Amelie instead. Immediately, the older girl just launches into questions. It’s a borderline interrogation and Jack can tell Amelie is a bit thrown off but she takes it all with grace paired with the most beautiful smile. By the time they order, Clementine’s already talking about how much of a pain it is to live with him and Luke and how much she wishes she didn’t and everyones jumping at each other as Nico just sits back and laughs and Jack hopes and hopes that this isn’t too much for Amelie. He’s seen her quietly work a room full of hockey players, but this is his family. 

(When their food comes, he takes her hand underneath the table and squeezes it. Without a passing beat, she squeezes right back, as she asks Clementine about her time at Stanford)

At one point, the two women are still riffing seamlessly off each other (making fun of him, thank you very much), and Luke snorts. “Are you just going to take this? Fight back, dude.”

“Don’t,” Nico says wearily. “No point. You know this.”

Jack grunts, because Nico’s right. He rolls his eyes as Clementine shoots him a smug grin, but he feels himself soften hearing Amelie’s chuckle. 

This could be his life. This is his life. Almost all his favorite people in the same place. He doesn’t get this peace that often in New Jersey. Especially not during the season. 

Amelie fits like a puzzle piece perfectly into his life. How lucky is he?

Clementine has a night shift and apologizes for it (“I should probably nap before or else I’ll be dead on my feet”), to which all of them decide it’s a good time as any to leave. They’ve already been talking for almost two hours, which has to be a good sign, right? Jack gives Clementine a kiss on the cheek, hugs Nico and messes up Luke’s hair, staring fondly as Amelie gives Clementine, Nico and Luke parting hugs. He catches Nico’s knowing look that he’s been on the end of many times before, usually hockey related. 

As he starts the engine of his car, Amelie deeply sighs to him. Immediately, he’s alert. “You okay? Was that too much?”

She shakes her head adamantly. “No, not at all.” She must sense his worry, because she continues with a laugh. “It was actually really fun.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she leans her head on the window, looking towards him. “I see why you talk so highly of her. Clementine, I mean. She’s really cool.”

“Isn’t she the best?” Jack grins. 

“She mentioned her dad a few times?” Amelie prods gently. “Did something happen?”

Jack swallows. “I never told you?”

“I don’t think so?”

“Oh. I thought I did. Uh, her dad, Miguel, died back in 2015. New Year’s Day. Cancer.”

He sneaks a look at Amelie and she looks heartbroken. “I’m so sorry, Jack,” she whispers. 

He continues on. He needs her to get it. “I miss him a lot. Constantly. He was the best guy. And Clee’s just..I love her so much. And Maeve, her mom. My mom, to some degree. I don’t know where I’d be without them.”

“That must’ve been really hard, for all of you,” she says softly.

“He never got to see any of us in the NHL,” Jack says. He’s trying to stay calm, but he’s gripping the wheel really tightly. “Hell, he never even got to see us in the NTDP. Or Q and Lukey at Michigan. He should be here. He would’ve loved all of it. But yeah, that’s Miguel.”

“She’s wonderful,” Amelie says after a few moments of silence. “Even just from that lunch, it’s obvious how much you all care about each other.”

“It’s hard to describe it, to be honest,” he says. “I think some people think at first that it’s something that it’s not. I’ve never seen her as anything but a sister.”

“I’m really glad you have someone like that,” she says, sounding somewhere between happy and sad. “And I’m sure she feels the same way.”

Jack chuckles. “I don’t know if she would. Most of the time I think we annoy her more than anything.”

“Annoying is 90% of what being a sibling is,” she points out. “Char and Col and I all love each other, but we annoyed the crap out of each other growing up.”

“You miss them?”

“All the time, and I saw Col a few weeks ago.” she tucks her legs up underneath her chin. “I think missing someone or something is all a part of it. You ever miss people even though they’re metaphorically right there? Or you haven’t had enough time to miss them yet?”

He sneaks another look at her and he feels his heart beating faster.

“All the time.”

~*~*~

amelie

Amelie and Kennedy are hanging out in the kitchen area when out of the corner of the eye, she sees Jack come in. 

It’s not unusual for players to come into the kitchen area of their own practice facility. But he’s beelining right towards the trio, which has Amelie’s arm hairs sticking up. 

“Hey Jack,” Kennedy greets warmly.

He nods with a close lipped smile. “Dynamic duo. How are you both?”

Kennedy raises an eyebrow. “Dream duo?”

“That’s how Josh refers to you two.” Amelie tuts as the other two laugh. Jack turns to her with an unmistakable twinkle in his eye. “What?”

Amelie shrugs. “Nothing. Just funny that Josh even refers to us at all.”

“It’s because we brighten his day,” Kennedy smirks. “What would he do without us?”

“Without you,” Amelie corrects with a wry smile. “I’m not here everyday.”

“You’re here enough,” Kennedy shoots back. She turns to Jack, and Amelie is immediately intrigued yet scared to hear what comes out of the older girl’s mouth, always the one to stir the pot in a harmless way. “Sick goal last night.”

Jack blinks. “The one that got called back?”

“The very one.”

Amelie bursts out laughing and Jack lets out a chuckle as well. “Thanks, I think,” he says. 

“Got some cool shots of it actually, but alas.”

“Alas, indeed.” Jack then turns his attention to Amelie. She can’t help but let a smile peek out. “I don’t think I saw you last night.”

“That’s because I was in Philly. They needed someone last minute.”

Jack pouts. “But what if the Devils need you?”

She rolls her eyes. “Then they have Kenny. And numerous other talented people on call.”

He nudges her elbow. “I know. We like having you around though.”

Amelie purposefully ignores her friends / coworkers’ eyes that she can feel boring into the side of her face, choosing to instead focus directly on Jack. “Do you know who’s been looking for you all morning?”

His eyebrows furrow. “Who?”

“Emma.”

“Shit,” he curses. “For what?”

Kennedy rolls her eyes. “A Tik-Tok, probably. That’s what the kids are doing these days. You’re a kid. Shouldn’t you know?”

“You’re like, only three years older than me, Ken.” Jack protests. “I don’t wanna hear it.”

“She was in the media room last night I saw her,” Amelie smirks. “Go. Before she kills you. Or us. And I don’t wanna deal with that.”

He narrows his eyes. “Fine,” he swipes the unopened gatorade on the table, to which Amelie sputters at. That was hers, thank you very much. “I’ll see you two later.”

When he’s out of eyesight, Amelie lets out a deep sigh. “Annoying ass.”

“I have to agree, and I’ve been here for years. They all are though. Except for like, Nico.”

Amelie snorts. “Well, yeah. That’s a given. Everyone loves Nico.”

“Jack is right about one thing though,” the older girl nudges Amelie’s shoulder with her own. “We miss you when you’re not here.”

She just smiles, accepting a side hug from Kennedy. It’s a pretty damn good gig she has. 

~*~*~

jack

It’s no surprise that hockey players are creatures of habit. 

Jack is starting to freak himself in his willingness to break slowly from some of his habits for Amelie. Nothing crazy. Just an extra scoop of ice cream if Amelie’s craving something sweet after a game (he’s learned that she has a really strong sweet tooth and always has candy in her bag and car) or making sure that her texts and calls can come through during his pre-game nap. 

Only seven other people have that privilege. His parents, his brothers, his sister (Clementine), his second mom (Maeve) and his captain. 

He’s always liked to stay silent and blast music on the way home from a game, win or lose. Now he’s started asking Amelie more and more to see if she wants a ride, since she doesn’t love driving and often carpools with a coworker into work. They don’t have to be talking, but letting her into his post game routine so seamlessly — especially since he and Luke don’t usually drive to the rink together that much — is something he hasn’t done for…anyone.

It’s just so easy with her. Their conversations, whether over text, phone or in-person, are never stale. She makes him laugh daily with her witty sense of humor. He always looks forward to catching a glimpse of her at the rink before a game or after a practice. He’s come to look forward to seeing her texts after a game since they’re usually a picture or two of him that she “thinks are the best ones.” Leaving on a road trip has become genuinely harder because he can’t see her for a few days. 

He finds himself wanting. Constantly. It’s a newer feeling for him. 

Sometimes, it feels scary. Especially since he hasn’t really gotten a direct answer from her yet about what she wants this to be. But they’re basically dating without the title. 

He would like an answer at some point though. But it’s not stopping him from doing all he’s doing already. Or feeling all he’s feeling already.

They’re playing the Habs at home tonight, and he’s feeling good, driving into the arena now to prepare. Last night, he had Cole over for dinner and it felt like old times. They had an optional skate this morning where most of the team was present. He likes where the team is at and he’s confident about what he needs to work on in his individual game.

Walking in, he says hi to the guys, dodges a classic slap to the head from Curtis and goes to the medical room to stretch out. As he’s stretching out his calf, he spots Josh wandering through the hallway. He makes direct eye contact with Jack and comes into the room. 

“Jack, hey.”

Jack smiles easily. “What can I do for you, Josh?”

“Have you seen Amelie? I have one of her cameras and I need to give it back to her before the game starts.”

“Uh, no.” Jack smirks slightly. He has an idea of where this might go. He’ll play. “Why would I know where she is?”

Josh blinks. “You two are always around each other.”

Jack tilts his head to the side, feigning innocence. “Are we?”

“Seems like it.”

“Well, no,” Jack grins. “I don’t know where she is.”

“You looking for me?” The two guys whip their heads to the doorway to see Amelie. She’s wearing a denim jacket over a simple black shirt., brown boots on her feet. The classic red ribbon is in her hair and Jack wants to kiss her so bad. 

But he just nods. “Just in time.”

Josh looks to Amelie. “Your camera.”

She lights up, taking it from his hands. “Oh, right. What did you think?”

“It’s sick,” Josh admits. “I might have to add it onto my list.”

“Yeah, I saved up for that baby for two years,” Amelie laughs. “Worth it though.”

“Very worth it. Thank you for letting me borrow it. See you out there,” Josh turns to salute to Jack. “Good luck.”

“Thanks, Josh.” And then it’s just the two of them. “Hi. You look nice.”

“Thanks.” She bites her lip, making sure no one is coming down the hallway. “Does he know?”

Jack raises his eyebrows in amusement. “Know what?”

“About us?”

“We’re an us?”

She gives him an unamused look. “Jack.”

“I’m kidding,” he watches as she walks to where he is, looking up at her from where he’s sitting. “I don’t think so, to be honest. He’s a bit-”

“Unobservant,” Amelie concludes with a laugh. “Yeah, he’s a killer photographer. Has a great eye. But with everything else?” She lowers her voice. “Actually, I was gonna ask and I’m really sorry, but could you give me a ride home later? I rode with Kenny because she wanted to try this bagel place and and we just came straight here-”

“Of course,” Jack assures. “It’s not a problem at all. Ever.”

She snorts. “Yeah. Sure. I am out of your way, you know?”

“I love driving you home,” Jack admits fully with his chest. “I don’t mind it at all.”

“Okay, thanks,” she backs away. “I’ll see you out there?”

“As always,” he says, a smile still on his face as she walks out of his sight. 

…..

They’re in his car after the game, a comfortable silence between them sans Amelie humming along to some he’s vaguely heard before, when things change. 

“I told one of my college friends earlier today that you were my boyfriend.”

Jack almost slams on the breaks. “You did?”

“Yeah.”

Suddenly, he feels like he’s missing something. He looks over to her as he rolls his car to a stop in front of a light. “Is this your way of asking?”

She shrugs, but the streetlights expose the slight smile on her face. “Maybe. Is that bad?”

Despite himself, he laughs. “It’s definitely not what I expected.”

“I mean,” he thinks he hears her voice shake for the first time he’s known her as he pulls up to the front of her apartment complex, killing the engine. “We basically are anyways, aren’t we? And honestly, I-I think I’m ready. If you’re still interested.”

He wants to shake her silly because she’s being so ridiculous. He snorts. “If I’m still interested? Of course I’m still interested.”

“Good,” she breathes out. “Great. I, uh, yeah.” 

“Yeah?” He repeats softly, afraid that this bubble will pop unexpectedly when he wants to scream happily from the rooftop. “I’m yours?” 

“I’m really annoying,” she warns with a swallow. “I’m trying not to be. But I am. This is your last chance to back out. I don’t know if I know how to be a good girlfriend.”

Jack knows that’s not true and, frankly, doesn’t care. “I’m yours,” he rushes out. A firm statement this time. “However long you want me, I’m yours.” 

“Okay.” 

He lets out a breathy chuckle. “Okay? Can I kiss you?” 

She pouts slightly. “Don’t one up me like that. I didn’t ask the first time.” 

He blinks before a full fledged grin takes over his face. “You remember planting one on me in your grandparents’ kitchen?” 

“I remember everything that involves you.” 

Jack lunches forward to cup her cheeks and kisses her. Amelie responds immediately. He can’t believe this is happening.

They eventually pull apart and he watches her eyes open slowly as he rubs her cheeks with his thumbs. Her light grip on his wrists is the only thing keeping him tethered. 

“Why haven’t you kissed me since we’ve been in Jersey?” She asks, tilting her head to the side. 

“Because I didn’t know if you’d want me to,” 

She visibly deflates. Jack quickly kisses her forehead lightly. He doesn’t wanna see her like that. “It’s late. I’ll let you go.” 

“Okay,” she says softly, grabbing her backpack. “Goodnight. Text me when you’re home safe.” 

And oh. Isn’t that lovely?  “Of course. Goodnight, baby.” 

The second he sees Amelie walk into her building, he dials Quinn’s number. He picks up on the fourth ring as Jack starts driving. 

“Hello?”

“Dude.”

“What?” Jack hears rustling on his older brother’s end. He presumes Quinn is lounging around on his couch, freedom present in his off day.

Jack drums his fingers on the wheel, waiting for the light. “I think I have a girlfriend.”

Silence, before Quinn lets out a quiet snort. “Amelie finally say yes?”

“Hey,” Jack protests. “You’re making it sound like I’ve been begging her, which I haven’t, because that’s a dick move.”

“So what happened?”

“She said she was catching up with one of her old friends on the phone and slipped up and called me her boyfriend then we got to talking and she was like, okay.”

“That’s it?”

“Yeah.”

“And this happened, just now?”

“Literally less than a minute ago.”

Quinn chuckles. “Good on you both, dude. About time.”

“Is it supposed to feel like this?” Jack says with a swallow. “Is it too soon to feel like this?”

“Like what?”

“Like I wanna spend the rest of my life with her?”

Silence. And then a crackly, “Shit, you’re serious?” 

“Don’t be an ass,” Jack scowls. 

“I’m not trying to be,” Quinn says. “I’m just, holy shit. You really like her.” 

Jack lets out a deep breath. “Yeah, I do.” 

“Clem told me she met her the other week.” 

“Yeah.” 

“What did Amelie think?” 

“She told me Clee was great. What did Clee say?”

“I’m not saying.”

“Ass.”

“You love me,” Quinn shoots back. “So now what?”

Jack blinks, cracking his neck. “I try not to fuck it up, I guess.”

“You’re not gonna fuck it up, dude.”

“You don’t know that.”

“You’re not gonna fuck it up,” Quinn repeats. “I’m serious. Especially not this.”

“I’ve done it once. I could do it again.”

“But you won’t. And if you do, it won’t fall to pieces. Because you won’t let it.”

Jack takes a shaky breath. He hasn’t felt anxiety this severe since the moments before he went in for surgery earlier this year. “I’m terrified.”

“Then talk to her,” Quinn says. “I’m sure she’d appreciate knowing that, to be honest. And also, I would bet money that she’s just as, if not more, scared than you are. 

“Nah,” Jack brushes his brother off. “She’s so calm about this all compared to me.”

“Or she’s better at faking it,” Quinn points out. “She’s awesome, Jack, And you’re not so bad either. Don’t overthink it so much. Enjoy it. This is what you’ve wanted for months.”

“Yeah,” Jack responds, nodding to himself. “Yeah. You’re right.”

“I know. I gotta make dinner, so I’ll call you later, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re good?”

“I’m perfect.”

Quinn chuckles. “Good. Congratulations, dude. She’s awesome. Can’t wait to see her when we come to play you guys.”

“Thanks, man. Love you. Talk later.”

“Love you, Jack. Bye.”

When Jack pulls into his garage, he takes a deep breath. He kills the engine, reaches for his phone and swipes through to Amelie’s texts she sent just a minute ago. 

It’s a photo of him at the faceoff dot from earlier. But it’s the text underneath that has Jack grinning uncontrollably. 

Amelie Fishel 

2830.jpeg

now you’re gonna get endless photos of yourself all the time !!

Jack Hughes

i don’t mind in the slightest 

goodnight. sleep well 

Amelie Fishel

you’re home safe!

❤️💤

see you tomorrow

~*~*~

amelie

A fun part of the job that she didn’t expect has been seeing the familiar faces around the league that she’s known before. As in, the people she overlapped with at Michigan. There’s a lot of them. 

By now, she knows who wears what number for the teams she covers. She’s not required to know the rosters of the opposing team, but she likes to pair numbers with faces and names as much as she can. It’s become a fun game for her too.

It just proves to her that this world is so incredibly small. For better or worse. 

Currently, the Devils are in the midst of their game against the Sharks and all she can think is: damn, the Sharks jerseys are pretty. 

The teal of it all is tickling the color theory part of Amelie’s brain so well. She wishes the teams she covered were more original in color. 

As Amelie’s sifting quickly through the photos she took during the second period on her new camera, she stops at a picture of two teal jerseys celebrating their goal. Number 2 and number 71. She quickly double checks on Google. Yup. She was right. Will Smith and Macklin Celebrini

Amelie’s always been good with names. Macklin’s stuck with her after working the draft. And Will’s is just so iconic. 

She checks the time. She still has 7 minutes left before the third period starts. Quickly, she connects the camera to the laptop and then the printer, printing out two copies of the same picture. She reminds herself after the game to venture towards the visitors’ locker room as soon as she can before the Sharks leave. Maybe grab Bordeleau to make it easier. Hopefully he remembers her. 

Once the buzzer sounds, she pats her pocket, making sure the two photos are there. She briefly thinks of a game plan, deciding to give it at least 15 minutes so she doesn’t interrupt the locker room. She hangs out in an alcove where she knows from prior experience that she can hear the visiting’s teams general coming and goings. In the meantime, she pulls up her laptop to edit some photos. 

As luck would have it, she sees a glimpse of Thomas and now she’s on a mission. In a brisk jog, she catches up to him and taps him on the shoulder.

He turns around and his face lights up in recognition. “Amelie? Holy shit.”

She smiles. “Hey Bords.”

“I thought I saw on Instagram that you’re working in the NHL now,” he gives her a quick hug. “That’s awesome. Congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

“What can I do for you?”

“Yeah. Listen, I know you guys are probably heading out pretty soon, but do you mind grabbing either Celebrini or Smith or both of them for me?” At his initial confusion, she pulls out the photos. “Thought they might want a copy.”

He nods with a small smirk. “Yeah, I’ll grab them. Be right back.” Not even a two minutes later, Thomas comes back with Macklin and Will both in tow, all back in their game day suits, though much less refined than she’s sure they were walking in. 

She puts on her professional smile, sticking her hand out. “Hi. I’m Amelie. Uh, I’m a photographer with the NHL,” she hands the rookies the photos. “I took this in the second period and I figured maybe you’d want a copy? No charge. Just keep a bit hush about that.”

Macklin takes the photos as Will looks over his shoulder. “These are sick. Thank you so much.”

“You’re so welcome.”

“How do you know Bordy?” Will asks.

“We went to college together,” she replies. 

“Michigan?” She nods. Will continues. “You must know Rutger and Shea then. And Luke. Unless you didn’t overlap?”

Amelie laughs. “Oh, I know them very well. I was Rut’s TA. He loved that.” 

“It’s beautiful there,” Macklin says. “I train there in the summers now and it’s so nice.”

Right. He trains with Jack. Go figure. “It is,” she reminisces, trying not to get too emotional about what home means to her in a literal and metaphorical sense. 

“Do you work for the Devils now?” Thomas asks. 

“Kinda,” Amelie says, redoing her hair and aimlessly retying her bow. “I cover the Devils and Flyers mainly, but Rangers and Islanders as well. I technically work with the NHL rather than a specific team.”

“Have we met?” Macklin asks with an innocent tilt of his head. 

“Maybe?” She says. “I was at the draft. So possibly in passing. And maybe if you came to Yost? I can’t remember what year BU came to play in Michigan.”

“I never did at BU,” Macklin says. “But the draft makes sense.”

She backs away. “I won’t keep you for long so-ah!” She crashes into someone and whips around to see Jack, one side of his lips quirked up. 

“Watch where you’re going,” he says with a playful tilt. 

“What are you doing here?” She shoots back.

“Josh was looking for you, actually, and I just saw you out here.”

She looks down at her feet, because deep down, she knows it’s because he was purposefully looking for her. But she doesn’t mind the vagueness, especially in front of Thomas, Macklin and Will.

Jack does some sort of bro handshake with all three of them, paired with a friendly nod. “What’s up?”

Macklin grins. “Amelie here took a picture of me and Will and wanted to give it to us.”

Jack leans over to look at the picture and lets out a small chuckle. “Yeah, that’s a keeper.”

Amelie gives a parting smile. “It was nice to meet you both, and good to see you again, Bords.”

“Thank you for the picture,” Will says sincerely. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Amelie just shrugs, accepting a quick hug from Thomas before backing away and letting Jack say his parting words. 

When he faces her directly, his back towards his fellow hockey players, in his Devils sweatshirt and his wet hair fresh from the shower, she swallows. 

He’s hers. Isn’t that great?

“Hi,” she says softly when he gets in earshot. 

“Hey,” he says. She wants to kiss him so bad. “Did you drive here today?”

“No. I carpooled with Kenny. Is she still in there?”

“I’m not sure,” he says. “How much longer you need?”

She hums, hands automatically fiddling with the camera around her neck. “Maybe 20 minutes?”

“I can drive you home.”

“You sure?” She whispers. “I don’t wanna keep you. I’m sure you’re tired.”

“Being here for 20 extra won’t hurt me,” they stop before parting to different hallways. “I’ll come knock on your door in a bit, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she nods with a small smile. “See you.”

(As the three Sharks watch Jack and Amelie walk away, they all notice how Jack’s hand doesn’t quite touch Amelie’s, but it’s damn close. And their bodies are tuned to each other in a way that goes beyond mere coworkers.

Macklin blinks. “It’s none of my business, but are they-”

“Yup,” Thomas responds. “I follow her on Instagram. They’re definitely dating.”

“Huh,” Will comments. “That’s kinda cute. The sports photographer and the player. Think Grace made me watch a movie like that once.”

“She’s great,” Thomas says with a nostalgic tilt in his voice. “We were both freshmen at the same time and I just, I don’t know. It’s awesome to see where she’s ended up.”

“Did you ever predict that she and Jack-”

Thomas snorts. “No. Absolutely not. Not any hockey player, to be honest. She was just always on the quieter end and seemed way too smart for any of us, because she is. But she’s, just, so great.”

The two rookies hum, watching as the couple turns the corner out of view.)

~*~*~

amelie

They finally, finally go on that Manhattan date, on a brief break where Jack doesn’t have any games and a day that Amelie is also free. The con is that he doesn’t tell her what they’re doing, only says “trust me” and “wear something you can walk in and be warm in and is a little fancy but not too much.” 

She appreciates it, she does. And Jack elicits nothing but comfort and ease, especially since their conversation a week and a half ago. So she is trying to be at ease with the lack of knowing the plans. But by the time Jack knocks on her door a little bit after 2 p.m., she’s been dressed for over an hour, pacing around for almost the same amount of time. 

She whips open the door and smiles, momentarily taken aback. “Hi.”

He laughs a bit, eyes sparkling. He has a canvas jacket tossed over a plain black t-shirt and black jeans. He looks clean and fresh and so cute. “Hi. Ready to go?”

“Mmhm.”

He waits for her to grab her bag and jacket, before interlacing their fingers and kissing their locked hands. “You look pretty.” 

She tucks herself into his side, feeling giddy. “Thanks. You’re sweet.”

“I’m glad we’re finally able to do this.”

“I am too, but I think you’re a bit crazy for wanting to drive into the city.”

Jack shrugs. “It’s not too bad. Nico does it all the time with Clee. I’ve picked her up from the hospital before. As long as you don’t mind possible traffic. Besides, want you to be comfortable.”

She just looks at him, marveling at how much he really likes her. She wishes she was used to this feeling. Not wanting to dwell outwardly on that right now, she changes the subject. “What are we doing?” 

“What do you mean? You know what we’re doing.” 

“I know that you asked me if I knew of any places to eat in the city for a late lunch or dessert,” she deadpans as they get into his car. “I know you have more up your sleeve.” 

He grins. “Maybe I do. Maybe I don’t.”

“Jack-”

His hand rests on her thigh and he squeezes lightly. “Hey. I got it, okay? Just worry about having a good time.”

She sinks back into her seat, shooting him a glare. He laughs and she softens. “Fine. Sorry. I didn’t mean to sound snippy.”

“No need to be sorry,” he responds easily. “How was your day yesterday?”

They talk the whole time it takes for them to get into Manhattan. As always, Amelie’s on the aux. She hasn’t told Jack yet, but she’s started making a playlist of songs that she’s played that he’s noted that he likes or seems to bop his head to. Jack parks in a garage attached to a hotel in Soho, right by the sushi place that Amelie suggested per Colette. (“You’ve met my brothers. When do I get to meet your sisters?” Jack had joked. And the thought of that didn’t terrify Amelie as much as she thought it would.”) He doesn’t even give her the chance when the check comes, snatching it away despite Amelie very much verbally disagreeing. 

He waves her off, as he signs. “Amelie. No. Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m getting the next one,” she says adamantly. 

“We’ll see,” he says. 

“Jack.”

“We’ll see,” he repeats with a smirk. “Ready to go?”

She grabs her bag and jacket. “To where, exactly?”

“You’ll see. We’re hopping on the train.”

She lets him lead, even leaning her forehead against his chest on the train when it’s packed. They ride mostly in silence as she takes in the city. This isn’t even close to her first time in Manhattan, but it’s always a bit overwhelming. Jack’s steady presence calms her down, especially when the train jolts and he automatically steadies her. 

When they get off at the 42nd Street station, Amelie has an inkling she knows where this is heading. She gives Jack a look, but he just holds her hand firmly in his as they exit the busy station. 

“Are you taking me to a show?”

He turns from where he was walking slightly in front of her with a smile. “Busted.”

She feels her heart dropping down to her feet. “Jack.”

“Well, hold on,” he jokes. “You don’t know what show yet.” She’s still in a daze, because she’s maybe only mentioned in passing how much she loves Broadway and musical theater and she’s trying to wrap her head around the fact that he remembered enough to incorporate into their first date. Tickets aren’t cheap, especially with-

“Jack,” she says as they glide to a stop in front of Richard Rodgers Theater. “No. You didn’t.”

He grins, exaggeratedly gesturing at the “Hamilton” billboard. “I did. I don’t know much about Broadway, but even I know Hamilton is supposed to be a great show.” Amelie’s so incredibly touched as she continues staring at Jack in disbelief. People are walking by them in a blur and all she can focus on is his smile, that slowly turns unsure the longer she stays silent. “I also did reach out to Charlotte on Instagram after I saw she followed me and asked if you would like this.”

That’s a loaded sentence. “Y-you asked my sister?” She sputters out. 

“Well, yeah,” Jack shrugs sheepishly. “I wanted to make sure it was a good idea.”

“This is too much,” she finally chokes out.

“But in a good way?”

“I-I’ve always dreamed of seeing Hamilton live.”

“Dope,” he holds out his hand with an easy smile. “Come on. Let’s go in.”

She looks at him, takes a deep breath and intertwines their hands. 

[solarmorrigan]

For the dialogue prompt, how about “What happened doesn’t change anything” for either Steddie or Newmann?

Thank you!

Hello hello hello I finally have something for you! I chose Steddie for this one, since I was on a roll. I hope this suits!

[post-S2 Steddie AU; CW: Outing, transphobia, some internalized transphobia; soft ending guaranteed, though]

-

When he sees Hagan meandering over towards them in the parking lot after school, his queen bee tagalong, Perkins, in tow, Eddie knows nothing good is going to follow. The way he feels Steve shift beside him says that he suspects much the same. The rest of the Hellfire guys, all gathered around Eddie’s van, talking and joking before heading home, have fallen silent.

It’s a small consolation that Hagan isn’t trailing Hargrove; since putting Steve in the hospital (briefly, Steve always interjects) last November, Hargrove has mostly given him—and the members of the Hellfire Club, once Steve had been taken into their fold—a fairly wide berth. Hagan, however, has had no compunctions about hassling Steve whenever he gets a bug up his ass about something, and he’s only become nastier since he started toadying for Hargrove.

So Eddie expects trouble, but he hadn’t expected–

Hagan starts small, crowing about how Steve has finally found his rightful place: among the freaks. Steve doesn’t give anything away, no displeasure, no anger, just bored indifference – the same mask he’s always hidden behind (the one Eddie had learned pretty quickly to see past, once he knew what to look for). But Hagan pushes.

“I guess the freaks already have a king,” Hagan snipes, cutting a glance at Eddie, “but I’m sure he needs a lady to rule by his side, right, Stevie?”

It seems like an unoriginal sort of dig—calling Steve a girl, how creative—except Steve goes pale. The mask slips, showing wide and frightened eyes for just a moment, but for Hagan, who’s known Steve for years, it’s long enough. He knows he’s hit something good.

“Do all your new little friends know, Stevie-boy? What makes you fit right in with them?” Hagan glances around the group, apparently enjoying the fact that if looks could kill, he’d be dead four times over. Then he leans in and practically spits at Steve, “Do they know that they got into your pants, you’d be less of a King Steve and more of a Queen Stacy?”

And that does it – shatters Steve’s mask so thoroughly that he actually takes a step back, staring at Hagan with a kind of disbelieving betrayal frozen on his face.

The full meaning of the words hits Eddie about three seconds before Hagan hits the side of the van, one of Eddie’s hands fisted in the front of his t-shirt and the other held firm at the base of his throat – not hurting, exactly, but heavily implying that he could.

Eddie doesn’t even have to reach for one of the many theatrical voices he uses to rile people up or cow them into submission; he’s so thoroughly taken by a type of rage he hasn’t let himself give into in a long time that his tone comes out perfectly threatening all on its own.

“If you ever repeat what you just said to another person, I will find out, and I will make your life a living hell,” he hisses.

Somewhere behind him, someone—it might be Jeff, though Eddie isn’t sure—clears their throat, and when Eddie tosses a glance over his shoulder, he finds the rest of Hellfire standing firm at his back (even tiny underclassman Gareth, with his arms crossed and the meanest look on his face the poor kid can muster).

“Ah, my apologies,” Eddie says as he faces front again, flashing a manic little grin, “we will find out. And we’ll ruin your life, Hagan. Same goes for your girlfriend.”

Perkins, who had been standing off to the side as the snickering peanut gallery right up until Eddie had pinned Hagan to the side of the van, makes a choked noise of offense that goes entirely ignored.

“Tell me you understand, Tommy-boy.” Eddie punctuates the command with a flex of his fingers near Hagan’s throat, until Hagan reluctantly nods, and Eddie releases him. “Glad we’re in agreement.”

Hagan and Perkins hightail it the other side of the parking lot, leaving them be with nothing more than a nasty look from Perkins, but no one is much in the mood to chat after that. No one really knows what to say – except Steve, who offers a quiet thanks to the rest of the guys and, having caught a ride in with Eddie that morning, then asks to be taken home.

Even with the radio playing quietly as Eddie drives, the atmosphere in the van feels silent and stifling.

Asking Steve if he’s alright feels like kind of a ridiculous move. Eddie wouldn’t be alright if he was in Steve’s position – hell, Eddie’s not alright. He’s pissed. But from the way Steve is sitting rigidly in the passenger seat, staring out the window like Eddie is driving him to his execution, Eddie’s anger—even on his behalf—isn’t what he needs right now.

Slowly, Eddie forces himself to let it go (for now, at least for now) and follow the familiar roads home.

It feels perfectly natural to simply head back to his place, where they’d been planning to go before that shitshow of a confrontation, though the surprise on Steve’s face when they pull up to the trailer says that he’d thought otherwise.

“You could’ve just taken me back to my house. I wouldn’t– I’d get it,” he says, and Eddie frowns at him.

“Did you want to go back to your house? We can hang out there if you want, I just figured…” Eddie tilts his head regarding him carefully. “You seem more comfortable here.”

Steve stares at him for a long moment, blank and uncertain, before he breaks back into motion with a shrug. “Okay,” he says, moving to get out of the van.

They head inside and nod a quick hello to Wayne, who looks like he’s just woken up in preparation for his shift, and then they go straight back to Eddie’s room. Eddie’s bag goes on the desk, but Steve’s goes by the door. Eddie sits down on the bed (admittedly one of the few places to sit, but also an invitation for Steve to come sit next to him) but Steve – Steve hesitates before leaning up against the wall, by the door with his bag, arms crossed and gaze cast towards the floor.

He looks ready to run at any moment, and Eddie sighs. This thing between them is new – so new that they’ve been afraid to put a label to it, dancing around each other uncertainly for months before sharing their first kiss barely a month ago. They’ve spent almost every available moment since with their hands on each other in some way or another, though Steve has been a bit skittish about moving past making out (Eddie had thought that maybe it was the unfamiliarity of being with another guy, but he thinks he might have a better understanding of the picture now).

Eddie doesn’t want to break things by pushing too hard, but somehow, he thinks leaving it unaddressed would be worse.

“Look, we don’t have to talk about it,” he says, watching Steve, though Steve still isn’t looking back, “but if you want to…”

Steve shrugs. “I wasn’t hiding it from you,” he says, finally glancing up at Eddie. “I mean, I was, but not– I was going to tell you.”

“You don’t owe me any kind of explanation,” Eddie says.

“You would’ve found out eventually, either way.” Steve lets out a sound that suggests he may have been trying to laugh. “But it was – I should’ve been the one to tell you. That was – that was mine to tell.”

A little bit of Eddie breaks as Steve’s voice does. He’s almost vibrating with the desire to hold and to reassure, to go over to where Steve is standing, still propped against the wall, practically curling in on himself (trying to make himself smaller), but he’s not sure how well it would be received. He tries words, instead.

“Steve, I’m so sorry–”

“That was the one thing,” Steve snaps, anger tearing across his tone, “the one thing Tommy would never touch, the one thing that was off limits, even he knew– and he just–” As quickly as it had come, the anger goes, taking Steve’s energy with it. He presses the heels of his palms into his eyes and lets his hands slide down to cover his face; when he speaks again, he sounds small. “I wasn’t ready.”

Eddie couldn’t keep himself from crossing the room if he’d tried – though isn’t trying, after that. He’s up off the bed and into Steve’s space before he’s even realized, and it’s probably only his proximity that allows him to hear what Steve says next.

“I’m not ready for things to change between us.”

“Steve,” Eddie says, low and careful, “what happened doesn’t change anything.”

Steve pulls his hands away from his face with a derisive little huff of a laugh. His cheeks are red and his eyes are bright; he’s not crying, but it looks like a near thing.

“It’s – like, I get it. You’re fully into guys, and I’m…” He waves his hands down at himself, sharp and frustrated. “Most people wouldn’t call me a real guy, if they knew.”

“Since when am I most people?” Eddie asks. “You say you’re a guy, you’re a real guy, fucking end of. Anyone who thinks otherwise can fuck off.”

Steve scoffs, rolling his eyes, clearly trying to hold back a much more emotional reaction, and Eddie chances resting his hands on Steve’s shoulders. Steve doesn’t move away, even eases a little into the touch when Eddie starts circling his thumbs at the skin right where his shirt collar ends.

“You don’t have to believe me right now,” Eddie says softly. “But I like you, Steve. I like you, andI’m gonna stick around and prove it to you.”

Something about the declaration makes Steve’s eyes snap right to Eddie’s, searching, anxious and cautiously hopeful, and Eddie lets him look. Whatever he’s after, maybe he finds it, because he uncurls from himself a little after that, just enough to lean in for a hesitant kiss that becomes much more certain when Eddie himself doesn’t hold back.

Eddie pulls Steve back over to the bed after that, poking and prodding him around until they’re both settled, Eddie’s back to the pillows and Steve’s back to Eddie’s chest (Steve’s never said as much, but Eddie’s gathered that this is one of his favorite positions to cuddle in; he doubts if Steve’s spent much time being the little spoon).

“Tell me something else,” Eddie says, once he’s got his arms wrapped securely around Steve’s waist.

“What?” Steve asks.

“Tell me something that you want me to know.” Eddie leans forward to press a kiss to Steve’s temple. “Anything.”

For a moment, Steve is quiet, thinking as he traces absent patterns over Eddie’s forearms. “I could tell you why I picked Steve,” he says finally.

“If you want to, I’d love to hear it,” Eddie says.

“It wasn’t because it was sort of close to my… old name. That was actually kind of a coincidence.” Steve lets his head fall back against Eddie’s shoulder, the tension that’s been wound through him for the last hour finally starting to ease. “Steven was my grandad’s name.”

“Yeah?” Eddie prompts softly.

“Yeah. My mom’s dad. I used to spend a lot of time over at his house when I was a kid. Before he died. I kind of got the feeling he liked me more than my parents did.” Eddie gives Steve a squeeze around the middle. “But he used to tell me all these stories about fighting in World War II. Probably not very age-appropriate, now that I think about it, but at the time I really ate it up.

“He didn’t really, like… glorify it, I don’t think? He just kind of told me what happened, good or bad, and whatever the story was, I always thought he sounded, y’know – strong and brave. And when I wanted to pick a new name…” Steve shrugs against Eddie. “I kind of hoped he wouldn’t mind sharing his with me.”

“Bet he’d be honored,” Eddie says, giving Steve another little squeeze.

“Some days I’m not so sure,” Steve says quietly.

“Well I am. I’ll just have to stick around and prove that to you, too,” Eddie says decisively.

Briefly, Steve’s hands tighten where they rest on Eddie’s arms. “I like the sound of that,” he says, and Eddie turns so he can press another kiss to the side of Steve’s head.

“Good,” he says. “Me too.”

[cutielights]

ITS HERE!!!

I think exactly one person voted ‘No’ on The Poll :p <3

100+ followers rottmnt fluff alphabet!

Leo

Activities- what do they like to do with their s/o?

He loves going swimming with you, beach, pool, waterparks? They’re all game in his eyes

Beauty- what physical attributes do they like the most about their s/o?

He loves your hands, cuddling and absentmindedly playing with your fingers

Comfort- how would they comfort their s/o through a bad day or a panic attack?

“Hey, hey I’m here, breathe, it’s me, Leo, remember?” He’s practiced in these things. Guides you through the 5 4 3 2 1 method

Dreams- how do they picture their future with their s/o?

When it crosses his mind, he pictures it with kids, training them to be ninjas. But that’s in the future, he’s in the now

Equal- are they the dominant one in the relationship or are they passive?

You guys take turns, kind of looks like a competition to the outside eye

Fight- how easy is it for them to forgive? How do they fight?

The thing he does most is sulk for a few days, silent treatment. Depending on who he thinks was truly in the wrong, he’ll confront you or apologise himself.

Gratitude- how grateful are they? Are they aware of how much their s/o does?

He is so insecure about not being enough for you. He is so grateful you put up with him, please comfort him, he needs to know you actually love him and don’t hate him, super aware of everything you do

Honesty- do they keep secrets from their s/o, or do they share everything?

The secrets he keeps are more of, ptsd related things. Doesn’t want you to worry about his nightmares. Can be coaxed into telling the truth, usually with cuddles after said nightmares

Inspiration- has their s/o inspired them?

Inspired? He’s definitely more open with his feelings now, healthier coping mechanisms

Jealousy- how jealous are they?

Possessive Jealousy? No. Insecure Jealousy. Plays it cool on the outside, but nervousness runs rampant in this boy’s skull, what if you think that guy is better than him? What about that yokai? They’re conveniently attractive and oh god they’re making jokes and you’re laughing?! Oh no oh no oh no

Kiss- are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

It was awkward to say the least. You both knew you wanted to kiss, but didn’t know how to express it. Kinda went like; “So-“ “Are we gonna-“ “y’know…”. after some failed attempts, you finally kissed

Love confession- how did they confess?

He confessed in the middle of a Jupiter Jim marathon. It was accidental as he thought you were asleep, after panicking and saying he didn’t mean it, you returned his feelings

Marriage- what are their thoughts on marriage?

Scares him half to death. Not that he doesn’t want to, it’s just- he feels he’s not worthy of marriage

Nicknames- what do they call their s/o?

Baby, Honey, Love of my life

On cloud nine- what are they like when on cloud nine? Is it obvious?

Zones out just staring at you with simultaneously the most dorky, smug, and lovestruck smile on his face

PDA- their thoughts on PDA, do they practice it?

110% he gives you kisses in public, he is holding your hand, either piggybacking you or the other way around, it’s game

Quirk- a random ability they have that is beneficial towards the relationship

His ability to clock you feeling down the moment it happens is wonderful if not otherworldly

Romance- how romantic are they, is it cliche or creative?

He can be cliche, nights at Hueso’s, but also mixes it up a bit with nighttime strolls or Hidden City shenanigans

Support- are they helping their s/o achieve their goals, do they believe in them?

Of course he’s helping! Maybe a tad too enthusiastic at times, but he wants the best for you

Thrill- do they feel the need for new things? Or prefer a relationship with routine?

He is doing new things all the time with you, but only new things you want to to ofc, may give you a nudge outside the comfort zone every now and again, just to help things along

Understanding- are they empathetic?

He might not seem it at first glance, but he is empathetic. Helps you through nightmares, injuries and anything that may ail you

Value- how important is the relationship to them?

Holds it above his own mental sanity

Wildcard- random fluff hc!

He is an arms guy, jumping into your arms or picking you up and spinning you around in his

Xoxo- are they affectionate, do they like to kiss and cuddle?

He is kissing your cheek to get attention, on the hand when being overly dramatic or romantic, on the forehead when cuddling, so very affectionate

Yearning- how do they cope when they miss their partner?

Quite sulky, whiny about it the whole time, saying things would be so much better if you were simply in each other’s presence. As for coping? He cuddles a pillow at night until you return

Zeal- are they willing to go great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind?

He is ready to do anything. Stay in the prison dimension? If it means you’re safe. Steal a cake? If it makes you happy

Raph

Activities- what do they like to do with their s/o?

He loves working out with you. Buuut if that’s not your speed, he won’t complain about getting pizza

Beauty- what physical attributes do they like the most about their s/o?

He can’t pick a favourite! Perhaps your height is his favourite, he likes using you as a teddy

Comfort- how would they comfort their s/o through a bad day or a panic attack?

He’s bringing you ice cream and a shoulder to cry on after a bad day, maybe even some flowers too

Dreams- how do they picture their future with their s/o?

He gets very anxious about the future, especially the future of your relationship. Sits down to have a very serious talk about it, would you want to get married? Would you want kids? Can we afford kids? How do we acquire children? Takes it seriously and doesn’t marry himself to one particular future

Equal- are they the dominant one in the relationship or are they passive?

You both stand on the same level of equality

Fight- how easy is it for them to forgive? How do they fight?

Snaps if he’s particularly stressed about something. Apologises after taking a few deep breaths. It’s extremely rare for an argument to last more than a day

Gratitude- how grateful are they? Are they aware of how much their s/o does?

Oh my man thinks you’re way out of his league, will forever be eternally grateful for you and everything you do

Honesty- do they keep secrets from their s/o, or do they share everything?

If he has secrets, he wouldn’t be able to keep them for long, they eat away at him. Mind Raph helps him tell the truth before it does some damage to the relationship

Inspiration- has their s/o inspired them?

You’ve definitely inspired him to take more time to himself, and just relax, even just for a bit

Jealousy- how jealous are they?

He refuses to call it jealousy, he just refuses to. He knows you would never do anything with that person, that conveniently attractive person, with a great personality, and you’re laughing at their jokes?! “Haha, yeah we just need to go… somewhere else.”

Kiss- are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

He’s getting better with practice. The first was at a drive in theatre, neither of you were really paying attention to the movie, something about a cafe owner going broke, he blurted out the question so quickly you didn’t even hear the sentence. You had to ask him to repeat himself twice before he had calmed down

Love confession- how did they confess?

With flowers in your favourite colour, he stood on your fire escape and poured his heart out in front of you

Marriage- what are their thoughts on marriage?

It crosses his mind often, he’s very concerned about the future, dislikes that he can’t just know what will happen. As for marriage itself? He’ll ask someday, but not now

Nicknames- what do they call their s/o?

Shortstack

On cloud nine- what are they like when on cloud nine? Is it obvious?

He’s obvious. But in denial with it, even when called out

PDA- their thoughts on PDA, do they practice it?

He’s not one for PDA, preferring cuddles in private

Quirk- a random ability they have that is beneficial towards the relationship

His pure strength and size is good for many things, including amazing cuddles

Romance- how romantic are they, is it cliche or creative?

Cliche, he knows it’s cliche, but it’s cliche for a reason right? Flowers, candles, the whole shebang. People wouldn’t keep doing it if it didn’t work!

Support- are they helping their s/o achieve their goals, do they believe in them?

He would! Would help you set realistic goals and work up to the ultimate one

Thrill- do they feel the need for new things? Or prefer a relationship with routine?

He likes his routine, throwing in a surprise here and there

Understanding- are they empathetic?

Yes! Ofc, he is. Doesn’t want you to suffer, cuddles count as therapy right?

Value- how important is the relationship to them?

Important, he is making sure you are safe 100% of the time, he knows what a pain villains are for stealing s/o’s

Wildcard- random fluff hc!

Piggybacks! Or carrying you bridal style, just imagine all the things you can see up there

Xoxo- are they affectionate, do they like to kiss and cuddle?

Yes and yes, not so much as PDA, but as general cuddles for movie nights

Yearning- how do they cope when they miss their partner?

Won’t try to outwardly express this to anyone, shows up outside your window, if that’s not possible due to some unspoken reason then he probably just messages you, staying up later than he usually does

Zeal- are they willing to go great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind?

Man is ready to jump off a building for you

Donnie

Activities- what do they like to do with their s/o?

Going to conventions, dancing, pure enjoyment of the other’s company

Beauty- what physical attributes do they like the most about their s/o?

Any facial markings or scars, stretch marks included

Comfort- how would they comfort their s/o through a bad day or a panic attack?

Asks before doing absolutely anything. “Can I come in?” “I’m going to come closer, is that okay?” “May I touch you?” Does his best to calm you down, if not, then he’s finding the root of the issue and eliminating it

Dreams- how do they picture their future with their s/o?

He pictures his future quite often, the vision changes from time to time, but your always next to him in it

Equal- are they the dominant one in the relationship or are they passive?

Says he’s the dominant one, but really likes when you’re the dominant

Fight- how easy is it for them to forgive? How do they fight?

Fights actually don’t happen that much with the two of you. If you do fight, he only lets it last a few minutes before cutting contact and giving you the silent treatment. Forgiveness is given in a few days and you guys are on good terms again

Gratitude- how grateful are they? Are they aware of how much their s/o does?

He can forget sometimes, but he spends a day without you and takes it all back, realising how much he relies on you

Honesty- do they keep secrets from their s/o, or do they share everything?

According to the internet, honesty is key to a healthy relationship, so he does his best although honesty is quite difficult sometimes, in general

Inspiration- has their s/o inspired them?

Inspired in the way that you give him new insights he himself hadn’t considered fully yet, set on one path, helping him see the bigger picture on things

Jealousy- how jealous are they?

It’s through the roof, although, he’s in denial about it

Kiss- are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

It didn’t happen until at least six months, awkward at first, but followed your lead after some reassurance

Love confession- how did they confess?

He had a whole plan on how to do it, like a months long plan. You got there first, catching him off guard

Marriage- what are their thoughts on marriage?

He’d get married if you really wanted to but, he doesn’t see the point exactly. That doesn’t stop him from being emotional on the day however

Nicknames- what do they call their s/o?

Darling, Significant Other

On cloud nine- what are they like when on cloud nine? Is it obvious?

Gets extremely defensive about the fact that he’s definitely not on cloud nine that he forgets to act like it

PDA- their thoughts on PDA, do they practice it?

Absolutely not, especially not in the first few months. Hand holding is acceptable, and the occasional hug

Quirk- a random ability they have that is beneficial towards the relationship

The ability to force himself to stay up all night, caffeine helps of course. You guys can just talk in the dead of night, as we all know, that is the best bonding time

Romance- how romantic are they, is it cliche or creative?

Gets creative with it, but isn’t shying away from flowers. Better yet! Mechanical flowers that bloom in the day! They never die!

Support- are they helping their s/o achieve their goals, do they believe in them?

Much like his red older brother, helps you set realistic mini-goals, and then helps achieve them. Not too hands on however, wants you to accomplish it yourself

Thrill- do they feel the need for new things? Or prefer a relationship with routine?

Routine. Routine. Routine. Cannot function without it. If there’s something new he needs to know about it at least a week in advance and that’s being lenient

Understanding- are they empathetic?

He is empathetic, just not the best at expressing it

Value- how important is the relationship to them?

This is so important to him, you would not believe

Wildcard- random fluff hc!

He pulls you onto his lap when working on something, refusing to let you leave

Xoxo- are they affectionate, do they like to kiss and cuddle?

After the initial phase he most definitely is, but only in private will you get kisses

Yearning- how do they cope when they miss their partner?

Calls and messages 24/7, if that’s unavailable? Workaholic

Zeal- are they willing to go great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind?

He’s ready to destroy his inventions for you. Yes- he has backups, but that’s beside the point!

Mikey

Activities- what do they like to do with their s/o?

Let’s go, come on we’re going to paint New York with graffiti. Loves cooking with you and showing you techniques he learned recently

Beauty- what physical attributes do they like the most about their s/o?

Loves your hair/fur/whatever, running hands through it

Comfort- how would they comfort their s/o through a bad day or a panic attack?

Comfort foods, but never overboard with it, too much is unhealthy. Movie nights and gentle words

Dreams- how do they picture their future with their s/o?

He honestly doesn’t think about it all that much, preferring the moment. But he does picture his future with you in it

Equal- are they the dominant one in the relationship or are they passive?

Passive, prefers standing on equal ground with people

Fight- how easy is it for them to forgive? How do they fight?

Dr feelings isn’t letting fights go unresolved, preferring to talk it out and get to the bottom of the issue

Gratitude- how grateful are they? Are they aware of how much their s/o does?

He’s super grateful! Does occasionally let it slip, but just tell him and he’ll remember himself

Honesty- do they keep secrets from their s/o, or do they share everything?

He wouldn’t keep secrets on purpose, likely the only reason he hasn’t told you anything is because it hadn’t come up in conversations yet, or he’s self conscious about it, not wanting to be a bother, but never out of malice

Inspiration- has their s/o inspired them?

Inspiration in the sense that you’re his favourite muse? Yes! Inspiration in the sense that he’s changed? Probably not

Jealousy- how jealous are they?

He tries his best to not get jealous, but sometimes he just can’t hold it back, Dr delicate touch tells the person you’re taken

Kiss- are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

Rooftop rambles at night are a must in this relationship, it happened under the moonlight, you could taste the pizza on his breath

Love confession- how did they confess?

He tried making it romantic, he really did, but one disaster after another passed through. He was about to just leave and take it as a sign you guys weren’t supposed to be together until you confessed instead

Marriage- what are their thoughts on marriage?

He’s up for it if you’re up for it, but only after a while, when you’re both adults, just to be safe

Nicknames- what do they call their s/o?

Baby, Honey, CutiePie, Angel, Wonder

On cloud nine- what are they like when on cloud nine? Is it obvious?

He physically has heart eyes, most obvious in his cloud-nine shenanigans, zoned out whilst staring at you once and added way too much baking soda it was a disaster

PDA- their thoughts on PDA, do they practice it?

PDA all day, as long as you’re okay with it ofc, mostly just hand holding and an arm around your shoulder

Quirk- a random ability they have that is beneficial towards the relationship

His ability to completely clock whenever you’re down avoids most complications

Romance- how romantic are they, is it cliche or creative?

He gets creative with it, thinks the traditional things are nice, sure, but overdone

Support- are they helping their s/o achieve their goals, do they believe in them?

Oh absolutely he believes in you! Supports your goals and helps out with what you may need

Thrill- do they feel the need for new things? Or prefer a relationship with routine?

New things. Hidden city dates all the time because it’s the most unpredictable, carefully avoiding the law enforcements.

Understanding- are they empathetic?

Absolutely! Have you met this boy? Sureee Dr Delicate touch isn’t empathetic, but that’s not a problem with you guys, he hasn’t met you yet.

Value- how important is the relationship to them?

You’re pinned in his contacts, he adores baking or cooking anything for you, overall one of the most important people in his life

Wildcard- random fluff hc!

Has one of those jars that have the lolly sticks with things to do with a s/o written on them, you made it together! Orange stick for an indoor date, green for outdoor, white for something that can be done anywhere

Xoxo- are they affectionate, do they like to kiss and cuddle?

Affection levels at 110% he’s giving you all the attention you deserve and could ever want

Yearning- how do they cope when they miss their partner?

He spams messages for a while, but if you’re not responding for some reason, listens to music in order to zone out. Takes his mind off of things ya know?

Zeal- are they willing to go great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind?

He would go to the greatest lengths. This man would have taken Leo’s place in the prison dimension if it meant you were safe and alive

[rainbow-starlight]

Why is Help Wanted 2 Sun… Like That?

Okay, I’ve been putting off making this post until I felt like I had a better idea of what was going on, and now that I’ve watched at least part of a play-through and gone over the lines a whole bunch, I think I’m ready.

I’m gonna talk about my thoughts on Sun as a character as well as HW2 as a whole here, so it’ll be a bit long. Pop some popcorn or something.

Please keep in mind that this is all my personal opinion and you’re free to disagree with it! In fact, if you think I’m totally wrong, please tell me why. I love new perspectives!

SO! Let’s get right into it, shall we?

First things first: Help Wanted 2 Sun is not the same guy as Security Breach/Ruin Sun. If his personality difference was significant enough to surprise you, that’s because he’s a different person.

I’m not entirely sure how much of Help Wanted 2 is meant to be actually happening, but I think that at least the mini games are training simulations.

However, it’s important to note that a lot of the stuff happening in the mini games is just… nonsense. How did Freddy get frozen like that? What’s with those regular batteries in his arms? Why are half the supplies in first aid explicitly for robots and not humans? Why is there a shredder table in the daycare for kids to stick fingers into?

Some of this can be shrugged off with the usual “FazCo is meant to be comedically shitty and the tech often doesn’t make sense anyway,” but the first aid simulation is what really stood out to me. Even with the previous explanations, that doesn’t explain the calming gas mask that could only ever fit Helpy or the steel wool scrubber or the tank cleaner spray bottle among the medical supplies. If the goal is to train new first aid staff to avoid lawsuits, it’s doing a pretty poor job of it. So… what is it for?

I touched on this idea previously with my post about Sun’s AI being trained on kids’ artwork. The idea of FazCo making a silly new employee training game as a means of harvesting behavioral data to train their AIs seems very within their realm of scummy.

This is why the Arts & Crafts mini game exists. It’s literally a task that requires exact copying. Maybe it’s essentially like teaching an AI to solve captchas by feeding it a bunch of data on how humans solve them correctly and incorrectly.

Maybe its presence is explained to employees as fun practice with the VR system or a break activity during training or something.

This would explain several things about the game.

The existence of the shredder table and Sun shredding literally ALL of your artwork: It being a funny way to despawn the stuff you make is a lot more reasonable when that’s exactly what it’s for in-universe, too. The generators in the play structures are unsafe enough, but that would’ve been on another level if it were real.

Sun’s line “Be creative on your own time, we are making ART!” It literally isn’t a creative activity, it’s a task. I know you can’t really apply logic to a lot of FNAF stuff, especially the DCA’s design, but if Sun were actually this detail-oriented and perfectionistic with everything, he’d never be able to function in childcare.

The fact that Sun’s “fear” of the dark seems like a bit. It literally is a bit. There’s no threat, it’s not real. I originally thought he just wanted the player out of his space faster and didn’t know how to assert a boundary there, but I think it’s actually just to make the player finish the tasks faster for data collection purposes.

Possibly also why he’s so comfortable being casually rude to the player. He is a jester, after all, and the player has lots of opportunities to do things they shouldn’t, too. It’s basically all a bit.

Also… what if the minigames have versions of the base AIs in there? It’s a version of the Sun AI with the theater programming and the basics of the childcare stuff? His entire existence is a shitty little simulation where he runs a singular activity for grown adults who can’t (or won’t) follow very simple instructions.

The biggest thing that’s been bothering me about the takes I’ve seen regarding HW2 Sun’s personality is that people have been calling him “mean” while completely ignoring the circumstances he’s reacting to. If a coworker came into my personal space and I was so generous as to share my favorite activity with them and they proceeded to intentionally ignore the rules I set and EAT SUPPLIES I USE FOR WORK? Yeah, no, I’d react like that too.

There’s definitely something interesting about how genuinely excited and happy Sun sounds when first welcoming his new friend the player to the daycare and inviting them to Arts & Crafts vs. when they return. He seems like he WANTS to befriend the player, but the game just assumes you’ll be upsetting him so there’s no option for dialogue where you’re nice to him and respect his boundaries and participate in an activity with him in a way he’s comfortable with.

I say “in a way he’s comfortable with” because he is a little weird about the whole “sit right there and DON’T MOVE” thing. He does seem actually excited and enthusiastic about the idea of shooting darts at the items you want so he can get them for you, though. Maybe because he sees it as a happy compromise, or maybe because it’s supposed to be a fun part of the game he’s programmed to be in charge of.

I saw some other commentary on Sun (primarily thinking of @kazzykatt) talking about how he seems almost excessively self-sufficient, and how this could possibly be due to neglect (he and Moon definitely aren’t as well cared for as the other animatronics, the generators in the daycare are a very lazy fix for actually reprogramming Moon properly, he seems bitter that he can’t fix the carousel on his own and he and Moon don’t seem to trust the player to fix it, their design is clearly better suited to the stage but didn’t get changed for the daycare, I could go on and on), and this would also explain his control issues to an extent.

Sun, in SB and HW2, doesn’t leave the daycare. He has so little that he’s in control of in his own life. He used to be on stage (and based on his dialogue probably misses it quite a lot) but had the job he was built for taken from him. He’s a perfectionist that’s constantly overwhelmed by too many things being marked top priority in his system, working too many hours with too many small children. Of course he’d be desperate to hold onto any little bit of control he has.

Honestly, when I first heard his voice lines, the initial vibe I got wasn’t “wow they made Sun mean” but “wow Sun sounds actually miserable” and I’m kind of surprised more people didn’t pick up on that. He sounds less bitchy and more like he’s lashing out because he’s trapped in an awful situation that’s completely out of his hands.

“Wait, are you saying none of HW2’s characterization should be taken seriously?”

You might be asking that, but my answer is a resounding NO! This is definitely still a Sun, and I think seeing two different Suns (even if we don’t know how much of HW2’s personality we can assume is meant to be taken seriously) is really helpful for interpreting what the base Sun personality might have.

It’s also important to keep in mind that none of the Suns we’ve seen were in a good situation. Security Breach Sun had the virus, Ruin Sun had gone slightly mad from isolation, and HW2 Sun is stuck in a shitty simulation babysitting bored adult staff as they fail to complete simple tasks. What we mostly know about him is how he responds to stress, and this is why there’s so much room for interpretation!

Here’s some traits I think every version of the Sun AI would have.

Love of making things. Despite everything, HW2 Sun seems to genuinely love doing arts & crafts. Especially with googly eyes. This could kind of be assumed from SB Sun, but he was also trying to entertain/bribe a child.

On this note… interest in fixing things? Maybe he just wants to avoid having to rely on staff, but if he and Moon are subject to that much neglect, it makes sense that he’d try to learn to do repairs himself. I saw @pixelchills talking about the possibility that the S.T.A.F.F. Bots in the DCA’s room are not there because Moon broke them, but because Moon collected them for Sun to practice fixing. It seems feasible to me, especially since taking something apart and putting it back together might have the same calming and satisfying effect on Sun as completing something like a paint-by-numbers.

Playful insults and lots of drama. I don’t mean actual rudeness, I mean friendly teasing. Again, he is a jester. A lot of his HW2 insults come across more like this. Hell, even his compliments come across like this with the delivery and immediate shredding. He’s just a theater kid at heart.

Difficulty regulating emotions under pressure. This is the kind of thing that would pop up on his worst days (such as being trapped in his destroyed home with a poor connection to his badly damaged physical form while the only help he’s seen in ages ignores his instructions and puts their own safety at risk, or being trapped in a shitty simulation while his only company ignores his instructions and puts their own safety at risk). He’d have to be able to manage this sort of thing better to work well with children, but everyone’s got their bad days. He’s prone to outbursts and tantrums when he’s overwhelmed and unable to stop people from breaking the rules and/or hurting themselves.

People pleasing and nonconfrontational. Yes, HW2 Sun, too. SB Sun seems genuinely desperate to make sure Gregory’s having a good time, and HW2 Sun is shockingly tolerant of some of the player’s bullshit (ex. how he tries to laugh off them shooting darts at him/throwing things). Even calling the player “good friend” when he’s not so happy to see them or threatening them with Moon instead of just telling them their time is almost up seem like signs of this to me. And letting the player make arts and crafts in the ruined daycare in HW2? Yeah, that’s a people pleaser through and through. Sun needs a lesson in setting boundaries (and for those boundaries to actually be respected).

Perfectionistic + “if you want something done right, you’ve gotta do it yourself” attitude. This would mostly manifest in how he completes work tasks, but I think every Sun’s incredibly detail-oriented and would rather do everything themselves just to make sure it’s exactly how they want. This could manifest in lots of ways, from “insulting the staff for how they put things away and telling them to do it again while he supervises” to “politely thanking them for their help and complimenting their hard work only to redo everything himself the moment they’re gone.” I think where on that spectrum you wind up is dependent on the version of Sun you’re interacting with and the environment his personality developed in.

High-energy and social! A given, of course. He never stops moving and everything is always so exciting. New people are friends he hasn’t met yet until proven otherwise.

Love of pranks… to an extent. Again, jester! I stand by my headcanon of Sun and Moon conspiring to convince the staff Moon’s some sort of spooky monster whenever he’s not actively dangerous. As long as he’s not making a mess, breaking the rules, throwing himself off-schedule, or actually hurting anyone? He’s all over it.

Anxiety. This seems like it’s at least partially caused by the lazy daycare reprogramming. All the Suns we’ve encountered seem to lack knowledge of how to actually get children to behave. It seems more like they programmed him with a bunch of games and activities and then set a bunch of super high-priority tasks for him such as “keep kids safe, keep kids happy, keep kids entertained, keep daycare clean” etc. and he’s unable to really prioritize so he’s just constantly overwhelmed.

Kinda always using “childcare voice.” If you know anyone who’s worked with kids, you know what I mean here. Even with adults, he talks to them like kids sometimes, just because it’s what he knows and what he’s used to and because his processor’s fried from however many hours a week he’s surrounded by kids. Consider his reactions to when you eat the crafts as an example. (IMPORTANT NOTE: I don’t think he’d coddle adults like children. It’s more about tone and vocabulary, like “customer service voice”.)

Stickler for rules. He cares about things being done right! The rules are there for a reason! Order is important to him (probably in no small part because it keeps him out of trouble and reduces his stress).

That’s about all I can think of for now, but as someone who writes a very friendly and sweet Sun, I actually don’t think HW2’s characterization was that far off from what I had already assumed based on Ruin/SB. The only difference is that the Sun I’m usually writing is in a much more supportive environment with lots of helpful staff that care about his well-being. If he didn’t have that, I could absolutely see him becoming more like HW2.

I will finish this off with two final important points:

Being an emotional person and liking “childish” things does not make an adult less of an adult.

(He’s a childcare worker, c’mon.)

If someone gets pissed off after being repeatedly antagonized, that does not make them a “mean/bitchy/sassy person.”

(Yeah, he doesn’t handle it gracefully, but to be fair, I wouldn’t either in his shoes.)

Thank you all for reading!!

[dotthings]

Some tea from Richard Speight, Jr. about filming Cas’s testament scene has surfaced from DLC6. [x]

nothing cut from script to screen but they added things, such as Cas having to paint the sigil on the door and leaving the bloody hand print on Dean’s shoulder [my note: wbk about the additions during filming. There's still the matter of the spanish dub because the latam dubbing team felt a verbal I love you from Dean, made sense. And a few other lingering questions that have not actually been resolved and we may never know, but I'll go along. If Rich is happy with what was filmed and got to screen in the US, I'm glad. I love 15.18 either way. Rich's comments also goes to show how collaborative making tv is and how fluid the process can be.]

Rich said the scene wasn’t intended to be about Dean’s reciprocation, it was to give Cas his moment to speak his truth, to speak his love for Dean, and Cas didn’t expect an answer back, he just wanted to be heard, wanting Dean to know. [my note: makes sense to me, and it’s what I’ve thought about Cas pov. Cas pov not being the same as audience pov and what the story might need next and what Dean’s needs are. But for that scene, Cas feels complete. It also very much means the emotional story from Dean's side is not resolved. Dean wasn't given his chance yet, by creative design, perhaps because the only way they could get this greenlit at all is if it was only Cas who got to speak. We'll see what happens next.]

Rich saying because they did many takes of the scene with Dean’s emotional reactions, there are shots where Dean is crying more, or crying less. Editing put together different angles from different takes. [my note: the irony that naysayers are already trying to weaponize this to shut down the idea that anything got cut when per Rich himself, the facts on the ground are that the full range of Jensen’s acting for Dean’s response got reduced. No shade on Rich. But let's not erase or deny what was going on with Jensen's acting and how Jensen gave 110% and what wound up on screen was about 80% of whatever work Jensen did. Dean wept more than we saw, even before Dean was on the dungeon floor sobbing. Jensen’s performance as it stands is beautiful and powerful and full of emotion. It has taken an inordinate amount of hate and erasure, which is 100% cynical concern trolling to deny Dean’s feelings for Cas. More shots of Dean crying openly wouldn’t stop it, there’s no excuse for those responses. What’s there is loud enough. Only the most willfully cynical gaze could deny the love and anguish Dean showed.]

Rich said the parallel for John and Mary’s confession in TW 1x07 to 15x18 is a “coincidence” yet went on to talk about the trope of confessing love in a life or death situation and cited Leia and Han Solo among others [my note: it was also used again by an ep Rich recently directed in another piece of media I won’t say so I don’t spoil it. Also I’m laughing about how it seems he answered this. Total coincidence!! And spn 15.18 is like TW 1x07 is like Han and Leia and love confessions in dire situations is a common (romantic) trope. Pls, if anybody is taking away from this some kind of shutdown on creative recognition of the Destiel implications of it all, I don’t even want to know, I’ve had my fill of poor comprehension skills, poor critical thinking, and poor media literacy, oh my god]

Rich saying he was glad Cas’s words meant a lot to queer fans and that he feels it was important and a “bold” move that Bobo and Misha fought for. <3

So that's confirmation from director now, to add to writer intention, both actors, and an EP who greenlight Bobo's pitch for Cas’s testament as romantic. That is canon. That is a lock.

Cas's testament started out carefully padded into an “open to interpretation” zone. We have watched it be eased out of it and into the open.

I’m pleased it's openly acknowledged for what it is...and what I knew it was when the ep aired. I did expect it would be eventually, and would take some time. I’m glad it's here now.

As always, my appreciation for the work Rich, Bobo, Jensen, Misha did on 15.18 <333

[pink-sparkly-witch]

Just Like This

Summary: Working a second job in a bar to help pay for Sammy’s education, Dean finds a kindred spirit in bar manager Y/N. When a drunk Douchebag gets too handsy with her, Dean quickly jumps to her defence but faces harsh consequences.

Pairing: Bartender!Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Rating: Teen

Bingo Square: Getting Fired for @j3bingo

Warnings: tw: sexual assault (groping), fluff, angst, fighting, minor violence, Chuck is a complete and utter asshole in this, getting fired, quitting in solidarity, first kiss, friends to lovers

Word Count: 3k

A/N: Okay, it feels like an age since I’ve written anything that’s just pure floof. I hope you enjoy this fluffy, protective, besotted Dean fic. Please be kind. I’ve had my angst hat on for a long time, and though this was really refreshing, it’s also a little daunting!

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It wasn’t the best job in the world, but as part-time work went, Dean knew it could be a hell of a lot worse than this. He worked with his dad in the garage during the day and worked four nights a week and two shifts at the weekend in Shurley’s Sports Bar. His wages and tips went to his dad to help pay for Sammy’s education. Sure, the kid had a full ride to Stanford; however, he still needed to pay for accommodation after freshman year and the thousands of books he needed for his coursework. And at least this way, his dad didn’t put himself in an early grave by working all the hours God gave him. Lord knows he’d done enough of that when they were kids.

Shurley’s was a decent bar. It had a prime location between the University of Kansas campus and downtown, so it always has a steady stream of customers. It quietened during the summer when the students went home or on their travels, but the locals still made trade steady enough. The owner, Chuck, was a bit of a dick, but he barely showed his face around the place, and the other staff were decent, making it a great place to work.

“Hey, Dean,” Y/N said as she came out of the back office. Y/N was the bar manager and a great girl. They had a lot in common; both lost their mothers when they were young and looked after their younger siblings while their fathers worked three jobs to try and make ends meet. Y/N’d had to drop out of college when her father took unexpectedly sick, having to take care of him and her little sister. Now that her father had passed and her sister had a full ride to another prestigious college, Harvard, Y/N lived in the tiny apartment above the bakery where she worked four days a week and in the bar four nights a week and every Saturday night. The rest of the time, she studied part-time to finish her college education and sent every spare cent she had to her sister in Boston.

“Hey, Y/N,” he smiled at her. She was pretty, too, and Dean wasn’t afraid to admit that he had a massive crush on her. Not that anything would ever happen because she was her, and he was… well, he wasn’t good enough for a girl like that. “How are ya, sweetheart?”

“I’m good, Dean. How are you? Oh! Did you manage to get Sam’s apartment sorted?” Y/N asked, and he smiled that she’d remember such a thing.

“Yeah, it’s all good now. We managed to get the rest of the deposit together,” Dean said. “Thanks for the extra shifts, by the way.”

“Don’t mention it,” Y/N smiled. “I still can’t believe landlords can actually do that,” Y/N shook her head as she headed behind the bar and started filling the refrigerators with bottles of beer and wine to prepare for the busy Friday night shift.

“Yeah, us either. But it’s done, and he has somewhere to live,” Dean said as he put the last menus and condiment buckets on the tables. “What needs to be done next, boss?” he asked, smirking when Y/N chuckled. She hated being called that, but he seemed to be the only one she didn’t scold for it.

“I could use a hand changing over the barrels if you’ve got time?” she said, breaking up the cardboard that the bottles had been housed in.

“Sure thing, sweetheart.” Dean headed into the storeroom and started shifting the beer barrels behind the bar as Y/N continued putting bottles in the fridges and replacing the almost empty spirit bottles with full ones to accommodate the busiest night of the year: Friday night football and Freshers Week.

The bar was packed with customers, the warm, sunny weather drawing even more of them in than usual, and of course, Chuck had decided tonight was a good night to show face and ‘help’, putting the staff on edge. Dean had gone with the head down and get on with it attitude, glad it was three deep at the bar so he had an excuse not to have to entertain Chuck for very long.

Y/N had been running around after Chuck all night, finding this paperwork and that invoice and the employee payroll for the past six weeks. Eventually, when he couldn’t possibly ask for anything more, she’d escaped the office, having brazenly told her boss that she was needed front of house to help serve customers.

“I swear,” she’d said as she tied her little black server’s apron around her waist, “It’s like he fucking knew tonight would be the busiest night but still came to check months old paperwork! God, that man is insufferable!”

It wasn’t often that Y/N showed her annoyance, and Dean couldn’t help but think it was cute. Though, admittedly, that could be his crush talking, her furrowed brow and tiny pout were adorable.

“What can I do to help?” he asked as she took her place behind the bar.

“I should be asking you that question!” she giggled. “What do you need me to do?”

“We could do with someone collecting and cleaning the empty glasses, if you wouldn’t mind?” he responded, smiling as she picked up a basket, cleaning spray, and a cloth before he’d finished his sentence.

“You got it,” she winked and headed onto the floor to clear and wipe the tables down. And that, Dean thought, is what makes a good boss. Someone who works with the team to achieve the same goal. Someone who isn’t afraid of stepping in to help by doing the most mundane tasks that are below their pay grade.

Y/N was a breath of fresh air for him in so many ways. She was bubbly and caring, and no matter what was thrown her way, she responded with an air of calmness and dignity that he admired.

“Hey, man. What can I get ya?” Dean asked the next patron, finally taking his eyes off the girl slowly taking over his every thought.

“Be careful,” Dean said as Y/N headed back onto the floor to clear more glasses and tables. “It’s getting rowdy out there. You know what those college boys can be like.”

“Thanks, Dean,” she smiled. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

He knew she would be. He’d seen her handling every kind of drunk customer. Still, he’d watch her closely because he was more worried than usual. The crowd tonight seemed even more enthused thanks to the local sports team playing. It still surprised him how often the female staff got touched inappropriately and had the most vulgar things said to them by too drunk and far too confident men. More than once Dean had had to step in and stop something from going too far, and he’d do it as many times as he needed to for Y/N or any of the other female staff.

Y/N managed to get around most of the bar unscathed, but there was a particularly boisterous table of men who only frequented the bar when the Chiefs played. Dean had been watching them all night because they seemed to have forgotten their age and tried to out-drink their much younger counterparts. They’d already run their mouths off to the bar staff, and now one of them in particular had their beady eye on Y/N as she moved from table to table, collecting empty glasses and bottles.

Swapping her tray out for an empty one, Y/N made her way over to their table, and the second she got close enough, the balding guy with the beady eye was quick to rear his hand back and smack her ass. Dean’s hackles rose, and he was on high alert as he watched her give the douchebag a piece of her mind. But he didn’t stop. Douchebag wrapped his arms around her waist and tried pulling her onto his lap. All the while, his douchebag little friends laughed and cheered him on like he’d won a fucking prize.

Dean saw red as he ran around the bar and strode purposely over to the group of middle-aged men amid a mid-life crisis and pulled Y/N from his hold, dragging her behind him to protect her.

“The lady told you to leave her alone. I suggest you do that,” Dean fumed, only getting angrier at Douchebag’s smirk.

“Oh, ladies and gentlemen, we have a jealous boyfriend trying to protect his girl! You know, if she were my girlfriend, I wouldn’t let her out the house wearing something so…” he paused as he leered up and down Y/N’s body, “revealing.”

“Listen, asshole, you don’t want to piss me off right now. Why don’t you and your buddies call it a night and go home? You’ve clearly had too much to drink, and we don’t take kindly to people assaulting our staff here,” Dean’s jaw was clenched, but he’d somehow managed to keep his voice steady.

“Sorry, man,” Douchebag smirked as he stood. “Just can’t help myself when I see a pretty girl showing off half her body like a Goddamn little tease. She’s asking for it, really.”

That was the last straw, and as Douchebag made one final (and unfortunately successful) attempt to get his hands on Y/N, Dean pulled his fist back and punched him square on the nose. The resounding crack as Dean broke the guy’s nose was satisfying, as were the synchronised grimacing ‘oohs’ that the audience this little corner of the bar had attracted.

“You broke my nose, asshole!” Douchebag spluttered. “I’m reporting you for assault!”

“You do that,” Y/N said, “and I’ll have you arrested, too. This whole bar and the CCTV saw you grope me twice and clearly saw me trying to get you off me! What he did,” she pointed at Dean, “was save me from being sexually assaulted!”

“Come on, man,” one of Douchebag’s friends said, patting him on the back. “Let’s get you to the hospital. It’s not worth it.”

“Damn straight it’s not!” Dean yelled. “Any way you spin this, he doesn’t win, so get the hell out and don’t come back!”

Tail between their legs, Douchebag and his friends left the bar. The second the door shut behind them, Dean was next to Y/N, checking her for injuries.

“I’m fine, Dean,” she insisted, but her eyes told a different story. The encounter had shaken her up, and Dean wanted to fix it, needed to fix it.

“No, sweetheart, you’re not. You’re–” Dean began but was interrupted by the shrill voice of Chuck.

“Winchester, my office, now! You too, Y/N.”

Seeing Y/N sitting beside him on the other side of the desk was strange. This was where she did all the paperwork, payroll, ordering, and invoicing, so to see Chuck on her chair was disconcerting. And not good.

“I don’t know what was going on out there–” Chuck began, and Dean scoffed in disbelief.

“You’re bar manager was sexually assaulted by a customer. That’s what happened!” Dean sat forward on his chair, raising his voice. He only calmed when Y/N placed her hand on his forearm.

Chuck pursed his lips at his outburst and continued speaking as if Dean hadn’t interrupted.

“I don’t know what happened, but whatever it was, sexual assault or not,” Chuck looked pointedly at Y/N before he continued. “It’s no excuse for my staff to behave violently.”

“You have got to be kidding me!” Dean fumed. “That… scumbag… touched her ass and her breasts and tried to force her into his lap! You see those bruises, right?” he asked as he pointed to the dark purple fingerprint marks on her arms.

“Inappropriate comments, slurs, even touching, is to be expected when you work in a bar–” Chuck was interrupted again, this time by Y/N.

“There are no touching policies in every strip club in the country for a reason, Chuck! You cannot expect it to be any different in a fratboy sports bar! No one should go to work expecting that being sexually assaulted is okay!”

“For God’s sake, Y/N! So what a guy touched your ass and tits! You should be flattered!”

“It was sexual assault, Chuck! That guy,” Y/N pointed behind her in the general direction of the bar, “touched me without permission, and I could have him charged! You too with how you’re behaving!”

“Oh, stop being so dramatic! I feel sorry for your boyfriend if this is how prudish you are!”

“Hey, that is–” Dean interjected, but Chuck kept talking.

“Dean, you’re fired. I cannot, and will not, allow a violent brute to work in my bar.”

“You can’t do that!” Y/N protested.

“Watch it, or you’ll be gone, too!” Chuck threatened, but Dean knew it was an empty one with her. He needed her too much. The bar would burn to the ground without her in charge.

“No need. I quit. Effective immediately. I cannot, and will not,” Y/N glared at Chuck as she repeated his words to him, “work in a place where I’m expected to be sexually harassed and assaulted and ignore it. I cannot, and will not, work for a man who fires a good person for helping someone in need.”

Standing, Y/N took off her apron and name tag and threw them on the desk. She unhooked the keys from her belt and pulled the cash box towards her, opening it and pulling out two brown envelopes, handing one to Dean and putting the other in her pocket. Once she’d locked the cash box, she tossed her keys down on the cheap metal desk with a satisfying clang.

“Really? You’re going to quit over him?” Chuck scoffed.

“Yes. Dean is worth a thousand shitty bar jobs like this one, and I’d choose him over any of them in a heartbeat,” Y/N said with her head held high. “I hope you know you’ve just lost your two best workers on the busiest night of the year. Come on, Dean. Let’s get out of this shithole.”

Dean didn’t protest. He stood up, smirked at Chuck because he just couldn’t help himself, and followed Y/N out of the bar and onto the street.

“Sweetheart, you didn’t need to do that. I’m a big boy, and I can look after myself,” Dean said after walking in silence for a few minutes.

“I know you can, and yes, I did. That was unfair and undeserved. Especially because it was my fault,” Y/N responded.

“Hey, don’t ever… it wasn’t your fault. Things like that are never the woman’s fault, you know that, right?” Dean couldn’t believe she’d ever think something like that would be her own doing.

“I know, but if I’d listened to you and let Marcus clear tables instead of me, none of this would’ve happened.”

“No. I won’t hear it. You didn’t ask to be groped by a balding douchebag going through a mid-life crisis, sweetheart. Don’t ever apologise for someone else’s wrongdoing,” he reassured her.

“So, what do we do now? We both kinda needed that job,” Y/N chuckled, but it held no humour.

“Well, I might know a guy who owns a wine bar downtown. A classy establishment, so the tips are better. And we’d be treated right,” Dean said, thinking of the bar Cas had tried to get him to work in for months.

“You have a buddy with a bar, and you chose to stay working in that shithole?” Y/N asked in disbelief. “Why? What would possess you to stay there? Willingly?”

“It wasn’t all bad,” Dean smirked. This wasn’t where he envisioned this conversation going–if it ever happened at all, that is–but the perfect opportunity had presented itself and he’d never forgive himself if he didn’t take it. “I got to see you almost every day.”

“Come on! You did not stay there for me!” Y/N scoffed, and Dean shrugged his shoulders, his lips tugging upwards in a shy smile.

“I did, actually. Can’t think of anyone better to spend so much time with.”

“Dean Winchester,” she grinned. “Are you flirting with me?” The teasing tone in her words was one he’d never heard before, and he liked it.

“Do you want me to be flirting with you?” he’d asked, needing to hear her say it before he did something stupid because he’d misread the signals.

“Yeah… I think I do,” Y/N giggled, stepping closer to him, bumping their arms together as they stepped in sync down the sidewalk.

“Yeah?” he asked, checking again because, quite frankly, she was her and he was him.

“Yeah.”

Dean stopped walking and gently grabbed her forearm to stop her from walking ahead. Feeling brave, Dean placed his hands on her cheeks and dipped his head, slowly lowering his lips to hers. Every inch closer he got, he switched his gaze between her lips and her eyes, making sure this was what she wanted.

When there was no hesitation and nowhere else to go, he closed his eyes and pressed his lips to hers. They were as soft as they always looked, softer even, and tasted as sweet as he’d imagined they would.

Y/N pressed herself closer to him with a low hum and slid her arms up his chest, resting one hand on his pec and the other curling around his neck. Dean licked her bottom lip, encouraging her to open her mouth and let him deepen their kiss.

He failed to hold back a groan when his tongue met hers, the feeling so much better than anything his mind could’ve conjured up. Dean couldn’t remember how long he’d wanted this, and now that it was happening, he knew he’d do whatever he could to keep her in his arms, just like this.

Tags: @acitygrownwillow @akshi8278 @ashbatz @candy-coated-misery0731 @chriszgirl92 @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @deansbbyx @deanwanddamons @duncanhillscoffeecups @foxyjwls007 @giggles1026 @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @hoboal87 @impala67rollingthroughtown @iprobablyshipit91 @jackles010378 @jamerlynn @jc-winchester @k-slla @kazsrm67 @kmc1989 @lacilou @ladysparkles78 @leigh70 @lyarr24 @maliburenee @michecolegate @mrsjenniferwinchester @nancymcl @negans-lucille-tblr @nelachu2423 @octoberclidan @perpetualabsurdity @roseblue373 @sandlee44 @sexyvixen7 @snackles87 @spnbaby-67 @spnwoman @stixnstripesworld @stoneyggirl2 @suckitands33 @synmorite @tristanrosspada-ackles @twinkleinadiamondsky @waters-2567 @winchestergirl1720

[positivexcellence]

Is there garlic on this pizza? An oral history of Supernatural's 'Monster Movie' episode

THE BEGINNING

What started as a simple enough idea — a black-and-white episode — was then put into the hands of writer Ben Edlund, who’d already crafted some of the show’s more creative hours, including “Hollywood Babylon,” which marked one of the series’ first meta episodes, and “Ghostfacers,” which was shot like a cheesy ghost-hunting reality show using handheld cameras. Alongside Edlund was director Robert Singer, an executive producer on the series and a massive movie fan himself.

ERIC KRIPKE (Creator): I was an obsessive fan of The X-Files and in their prime, they got really bold and adventurous with their format, and they had a black-and-white episode. I was always hoping that we could start taking those same kinds of swings. I remember saying, “I want to do a black-and-white episode where Sam and Dean are up against the classic movie monsters.” But I think Ben came up with the shapeshifter. We were trying to figure out: How do you get a mummy and a werewolf and a Frankenstein and a Dracula in the same episode? That makes no f---ing sense. So this idea of a shapeshifter who loved those movies and was ultimately just a fanboy was the secret to cracking that one open. 

ROBERT SINGER (Director): I think that script was Ben at his best. I was really happy that I was in line to direct because I really loved those old movies, so it was fortuitous that I got to do it. 

JENSEN ACKLES (Dean Winchester): It’s all just paying homage to the old-school ways of doing things, which having Bob at the helm, he’s seen all those movies time and time again, so he was the perfect guy to direct this episode. 

KRIPKE: Bob has an encyclopedic knowledge of movies, especially older films. He’s a classicist and his directing style is a lot of that kind of beautiful, elegant Hollywood style, and I think he just really relished it.

SINGER: I shot generally with wider lenses than I would normally do with Supernatural to try to give it some of that old-time feel. I really took pains to make it look as old fashioned as I possibly could. I’m a big fan of James Whale, who had done Frankenstein, and there are a lot of great crane shots in those movies, so I did a lot of crane work in this. We did a lot of shadow play. 

JARED PADALECKI (Sam Winchester): You put Ben Edlund on writing and Bob Singer on directing and magic is bound to happen.

But there was another piece of the puzzle that needed to come together for the magic to truly work: Who would play the shapeshifter (and therefore spend the episode doing their best Dracula)? The answer was Todd Stashwick.

TODD STASHWICK (Dracula): They wanted a full-on replication of Bela Lugosi’s performance. I had the DVD of the 1930’s Dracula, so I was watching that just to get the mannerisms and vocal intonation down so that I wasn’t doing a Xerox carbon copy but rather actually trying to get that Hungarian dialect that he has. I went in [to the audition] and just swung for the rafters.

SINGER: We had him do one of the Dracula scenes and then do the speech where he’s telling her how he became the way he became and Todd just killed it. That was an easy call to cast him.

STASHWICK: They wanted to know that you were going to be able to bring both sides to it, the full-on studied Dracula performance and then to let that mask drop and see the wounded man that is the monster. 

KRIPKE: We needed someone who could stick the landing on the Dracula part and that’s really hard. It’s hard to do it and have it not come off like a bit. Todd is a remarkable mimic of Bela Lugosi and brings humanity and soulfulness and depth to it. There’s something in his eyes that made it deeper and sadder than had you cast someone who was just going for an impersonation.

PADALECKI: That episode belongs to Todd Stashwick. He’s so damn good. 

Alongside Stashwick was Melinda Sward, whose character Jamie, a local waitress, caught Dean's eye and marked a first for the show. 

KRIPKE: At the time, there was a young female fan named Jamie. She and her mother would write us letters and they were super fans, and we were still early enough that we’re like, “I can’t believe there’s fans.” Jamie had medical issues, so when the season was coming up, I wrote her a response and said, “If you concentrate on getting better, we’ll name a character after you.” And she responded and said, “That’s amazing, but can you just do me a favor? Can you make sure it’s a character that doesn’t die?” So the female lead in this one we named Jamie. That was one of the only times we ever named a character after a real person and a fan. The happy ending is she was thrilled and she grew up healthy and now tours around with a replica of the Impala. 

ACKLES: Jamie was one of my favorite Dean Girls. Melinda was so good and so fun.

From the instant the episode began, fans knew they were in for something special as the old black-and-white WB logo kicked off a very old-school credits sequence.

SINGER: Right from the opening of the Warner Brothers shield, you know where you’re going. It set the tone perfectly.

KRIPKE: That and “Changing Channels” are the only two episodes where I’ll sit down and just watch the credit sequence. The font, the way you list every crew member, and it just goes on forever. And [composer Christopher] Lennertz wrote real orchestral music for it. I just love the opening of that episode and the way we did that title sequence. But changing subjects, what that reminds me of is the singular genius of Ben Edlund to set this episode during Oktoberfest. Suddenly everyone looks like European villagers and everything becomes a real monster movie.

SINGER: And that location was a party site, but it worked perfect for us. 

PADALECKI: It was like an amusement park in the outskirts of Vancouver that we rented out. It ended up unfortunately getting torn down and turned into condos or something.

THE MIDDLE

With the setting and the cast locked, the brothers set out on their hunt, arriving at Oktoberfest to help solve a murder. And when the investigation made Dean late to his first date with Jamie, he found himself face-to-face with Dracula. So naturally, Dean punched the shapeshifter in the face. A fight ensued, one that ended with Dean holding an ear and Dracula ... riding a vespa?

ACKLES: I believe one of the many reasons this show lasted as long as it did is because it can be scary but then at the same time, you throw something like the scooter in and it layers in comedy with horror, with drama, with romance. It touches it all. Bob said it early on and it became a mantra of ours: “No joke is too cheap.” 

STASHWICK: That’s the infamous assault scene. I’m in full crazy mode and I’m supposed to clock Jensen in his beautiful face with my elbow, and for whatever reason in that moment — I perhaps leaned in, he perhaps leaned in — we closed that gap and I clocked him. So what you see on the DVD extras is me being all Dracula and then me being mortified that I just hit their billion dollar baby in the face.

ACKLES: He caught me with an elbow but he probably thought he hit me harder than he did. It was a mix between a good shot and a graze, but he immediately broke character. He was like, “Are you good?” And I was like, “Yeah, that one woke me up.” [Laughs]

Dean made it through that fight, but the shapeshifter had already planned its next move: While Sam checked out an eccentric local that they thought was the killer, Dean and Jamie shared a drink back at the bar where she worked. Her friend Lucy (Holly Elissa) then showed up just in time to spike their drinks. By the time Dean woke up, he was wearing Lederhosen while strapped to a table in a dungeon.

SINGER: Jensen was like, “Oh god do I have to wear this?” So to make him feel better, I put on the Lederhosen top. I didn’t go with the full shorts but I did direct that day in the Lederhosen top to take the edge off it a little bit for him.

ACKLES: I remember that! He directed in that shirt. [Laughs] Those were authentic leather Lederhosen from Bavaria. Only the best for Dean.

PADALECKI: When Jensen’s first getting strapped to the table, cause he’s a big guy, I remember them talking about how for the visual's sake, they wanted it to be like he’s a quote-unquote damsel in distress, so if they used a normal-sized platform, it would’ve looked comical, but not in a good way. So they had to make it a little bigger cause he’s kind of big.

Dean wasn’t in the dungeon long before Dracula left him to go answer the doorbell. It seemed the shapeshifter ordered a pizza … and he had a coupon.

KRIPKE: I just love how there’s the monster lab in the basement but then you go upstairs and it’s this mid-century ranch house. That’s almost a direct ripoff of the Steve Martin movie The Man with Two Brains.

SINGER: [Set designer] Jerry [Wanek] did a great job in building the dungeon set, and then when the doorbell rings, you realize it’s in the bottom of a suburban house with a pizza guy showing up at the door. 

KRIPKE: When Ben wrote the script, we talked about that scene more than any other scene in the episode. We were so specific about how we wanted the Dracula shapeshifter to react to the pizza guy and the way he’s scared when he says, “Is there garlic on the pizza?” And then the way the pizza guy’s so bored and over it: “Did you order garlic?” And then he says, “No!” It’s the way that he’s so bored of this Dracula at the door.

PADALECKI: I think Jensen and I must’ve watched this episode together in 2008 because I remember us looking at each other and going like, ”Oh my god, [the pizza guy] is way better than he needs to be!”

ACKLES: That line, because of the way that Todd delivered it, we used that line on set many, many times. Whenever somebody asked a question that had an obvious “no” to it, it’d be like, “Hey, did you want the big light on in the distance?” And Bob would be like, “Is there garlic on it?” So that became a little ism on set.

STASHWICK: I’m a Second City guy, so “yes, and” is drilled into my head and yet the two memes I’m most known for, I’m saying the word “no,” and that is Supernatural and Star Trek. I have the no's that are heard around the world. 

In the end, the brothers came out victorious and another monster was dead, but not before this one made you feel a little something (and gave one heck of a final monologue quoting King Kong). 

KRIPKE: Ben gets all the credit, and rightfully so, for writing the crazy episodes, but where I don’t think he gets enough credit is what a disciplined screenwriter he is in terms of character consistency and rule consistency and just the emotion and pathos he brings to every single story he does. No matter how crazy, he always has such a talent for capturing humanity. I wasn’t counting on the shapeshifter to have pathos but when he gives that speech at the end, it’s so sad. I give him all the credit in the world for that.

SINGER: Eric used to say, “Every villain is a hero of his own story,” so we always tried, as best we could, to give the villains something to do and learn more about them and give them full characters. So even with all this fun, we managed to give him something a little more to do. 

PADALECKI: He becomes an almost sympathetic character — I stress almost because he did kill a couple people — but what a great character arc all inside of one episode.

STASHWICK: Because this character wasn’t just a cartoon Dracula and he had that human moment, I think it made him stick in people’s minds more. This monster just really loved the movies. He was the ultimate cosplayer. It might be the thing I’m most known for outside of Star Trek, that one episode of TV.

THE END...?

Although Dracula didn’t make it out alive, the episode seemed to breathe new life into the series, marking perhaps its biggest risk yet, though not the biggest risk the show would ever take. 

SINGER: It kind of laid a template for other big swings that we took that were out of the ordinary, whether it was “Changing Channels” or “The French Mistake.” This was the first of our big swings of being totally different than what the show was generally week to week.

KRIPKE: I remember it getting a positive reception. I think people appreciated the swings we were starting to take. I just love that this small little supernatural show that’s arguably a Buffy ripoff on The CW got so experimental. I am really proud that we were doing legit avant-garde stuff, really experimental filmmaking, of which this was one, and then we just kept pushing it. 

PADALECKI: It’s such a great episode of television and I think we have a few in our 15 years that could stand alone as something fun to watch and out of the box, and it's certainly easy to argue "Monster Movie" is at the top.

ACKLES: This was really when we were hitting our stride. We were in the pocket with these characters, with the storytelling, with the writing. The first year was really finding our feet, the second was like, "Okay we somehow survived a network merge, let’s not mess this up." And then third season we started playing a little bit. So by the fourth season, we’re like, "Now we know where we need to be." This was the perfect time to do one of these outside-the-box episodes. This is definitely one of my top 10.

SINGER: I directed 48 episodes and if somebody asked me which is my favorite, I would probably say this one. I just had the best time doing it. 

Entertainment Weekly

[frvnkcastles]

Hello my lovely writer,

I love your work but wasn't brave enough to write you, until today =) even if I don't know if you're still accepting requests I give it a try, in hope that you like to write a story with your wonderful words. Currently I'm sick as a dog and in need of some care taking Frank...

Frank and her are dating for some time now, but she has problems with trusting him completely because of her last abusive relationship. So she didn't tell him that she is chronical ill and often suffers from pulmonary infections and tachycardia always when she feels under the weather or sick she tells him she is busy so they can't meet. When she's falling deathly sick with a very high fever she tells him to raincheck their date. Frank gets suspicious and tries not to think of her cheating with him. When he doesn't hear from her for days and she doesn't answer his texts and phone calls he's mad and he wants to confront her. What he doesn't know is that she's at home deathly sick and in need of help cause of her high fever. When she doesn't open her door he is raging thinking that she's in bed with another man, but what he finds shatters his heart not as he aspected. He finds her semi conscious on her bathroom floor....

Well some angst, drama, secrets of her past and a protective caretaking Frank nurses her back to health.

Hope that's something you like.

Love, kiss and hugs sends you a fan of your work

Sorry for my English, it's not my first language 🤍

SIRENS IN MY HEAD ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: Feeling under the weather, you cancel your date with Frank, and when he doesn’t hear from you for a few days, he expects the worst — only to find an equally bad situation: you, unconscious on the bathroom floor.

Warnings: Chronic illness, mentions of an abusive ex, cursing, feminine nicknames

Word count: 2.2k

Author’s note: Omg anon it took me so long to finish this, I apologize!! I took some creative liberties with this one because personally I feel like Frank would assume something bad happened to you instead of cheating, but I hope you still like what I came up with :) I’m sending you lots of love and good vibes!!

In the past couple of months, you and Frank had discovered that you had a lot in common — you both liked dogs, you both tended to put others before yourselves, and you liked the same kind of music playing from his truck radio whenever he took you anywhere. But the most glaring similarity between the two of you lately was that neither of you remembered the first thing about dating. He had never even intended to get back into it, but then you had come and won his heart all to yourself, whereas you had been reserved and wary ever since you had broken up with your aggressive and controlling ex. His habit of putting you down with words as much as his hands had earned you a complete distrust of men — with Frank being, apparently, the exception.

Still, you didn’t completely open up to him. In fact, there was one major thing you had been holding out on, out of the fear that it would be too much for him to take — or worse, he would take advantage of that weakness somehow. So when you started to feel under the weather once more, your chronic tendencies acting up again, you made sure not to tell him why you were canceling your dinner date.

”Yeah, it’s just, I have to be at work all day and it doesn’t really seem like it’s gonna work out today”, you rambled into the phone, hoping Frank wouldn’t call you out on the bullshit excuse, only to be crushed a little more by his disappointed voice.

”Oh, okay, sweetheart. ’M sorry to hear that. Maybe tomorrow, then, huh?” Frank suggested, his gravelly voice full of dismay, and as a wave of nausea rushed over you, you squeezed your eyes shut and drew in a shaky breath.

”Actually, uh, I’m not sure I can make that work. I’m really sorry, but I’ll—I’ll let you know when I’m… more available”, you cleared your throat, embarrassment creeping up your spine and mixing in with the cold sweat breaking on your forehead. ”Again, I’m sorry. I have to go.”

With that, you hung up the phone and threw it next to you on the mattress before groaning and running your hands across your face. You hated this, but you couldn’t bring yourself to telling him the truth. Still, as your fever rose and your heartrate refused to calm down, you wished nothing more than to have Frank by your side, caressing your hair and holding your hand.

It wasn’t the first time you had done this, tried to fool him into thinking you were fine when in reality you were not, but this was the first time Frank was more than just a little bit suspicious. He would have liked to think that enough time had passed between the two of you for you to be honest with him, the same way he was learning to be honest with you — even about things he had always kept to himself.

Still, he let it go. For the first couple of days, anyway. Then all of a sudden, you weren’t answering texts, ranging from casual check-ins to more clear requests for any kind of sign, and when he called you, you didn’t pick up, either. You had gone completely radio silent for the fourth day now, whereas before you would get back to Frank within minutes. He missed checking his phone and seeing a notification from you, and like a goddamn schoolgirl, he missed texting you until ungodly hours in the AM until he’d pass out on his phone from sheer exhaustion.

And Frank, well, he always assumed the worst. The most horrendous scenario imaginable was already forming in his head, and he tried his damnedest to keep his cool, but fuck, if he wasn’t worried. He tried to get his mind off of you by cleaning his guns, but he soon realized it was just to prepare him against whoever had possibly taken you from your home, or maybe even the street. Surely something had happened for you to not even let him know you were okay.

”Goddamn it, sweetheart”, he muttered at his phone where his long list of unanswered text messages stared back at him. He tried to sit still in his silent apartment, but the longer he did, the worse he started to overthink. And before he knew it, he was out the door, headed for your building with his gun in the waistband of his jeans.

Tapping on the wheel, he impatiently swerved from one street to another. He had gotten far too attached to you — in fact, he hadn’t even realized just how deeply until right now, but he couldn’t bear the thought of losing you, not now, not ever. You had become so indescribably important to him, more than he’d even care to admit, but he couldn’t lie to himself. He was ready to go to war for you if that was what the night had in the cards for him.

He was at your front door in almost no time, his knuckles knocking on the door to give you the chance to answer. But when nothing happened, not even a squeak came from indoors, Frank tried the handle — to no avail. ”Fuck”, he cursed under his breath, knowing you’d hand his ass to him for what he was about to do, but he wasn’t going to let a mere door stand in his way.

And so, he shoved through the door with his shoulder, busting in unceremoniously and with a bang. At first glance, the apartment looked untouched, and in any other situation, he would have taken a moment to appreciate just how you it was, from photos to little plushies decorating the place. But now, he was focused on only one thing, and that was finding you. Even though the place seemed normal in every way, he withdrew his gun and kept it hoisted in the air just in case, the barrel leading the way as he searched the apartment room by room.

It was in the bathroom that Frank found what he was looking for, only to be slapped in the face by the horror that quickly washed over him at the sight — you, lying on the floor, sweat beading on your feverish face while you breathed heavily and unevenly.

”Shit”, he uttered out while putting his gun away and kneeling down beside you. ”Sweetheart? Hey, sweet girl, can you hear me? Hey, I need ya to wake up for me, okay?” Frank continued, his anger fading into worry as he lifted your head up and tried to gently shake you into consciousness. When you began moving on your own and your eyes parted open, he sighed in relief, but licked his lips in the realization that you were not in the clear yet.

”Hey, hey, take it easy. You with me, darlin’? Look at me”, he instructed with short and simple statements, his voice gentle but stern, and you found it in yourself to follow his guidance. You leaned into him and looked up at him, struggling to find your words with your dry throat and your dizzy head.

”Didn’t want you to see me like this”, you slurred, and knitting his eyebrows together, Frank tilted his head at you.

Nodding to promise he understood, he cleared his throat. ”Listen, I’mma take you to the hospital, aight? I’ll be with you the whole time, I promise”, he continued, and even though you didn’t have it in you to fight back, you nodded.

With ease, Frank picked you up from the floor, and as quickly but carefully as he could, he rushed downstairs to his truck where he made sure to protect your head and avoid any sudden movements while buckling you in. He maintained a balance between rushing and not risking your life any further, but needless to say, he was relieved no cops pulled him over as he sped through the streets to get to the emergency room.

He was working on autopilot, his instincts guiding him but his mind not quite catching up with what was happening. He was scared, but that part of him was shutting down completely and the diligent soldier in him took charge of the situation until you were lying in a hospital bed, still unconscious but stable according to the doctors.

He didn’t leave your side for one second, even when his eyes started to slip and his body yearned for coffee. The doctors told him he might have to wait all night, but he was willing to — he just wasn’t going to let you wake up all alone, confused and hurt.

It must have been near 4 AM when you finally came to, your groggy movements alerting Frank who was half-asleep in the chair he had dragged to your bedside. But as soon as you seemed to be waking up, he was eyes wide and his hand reaching for yours. You were too out of it to fight him off even if you had wanted to, but when your eyes adjusted to the new setting and you slowly realized where you were, you clung onto him desperately.

”Frank…”, you croaked out, eyes blinking rapidly as you lifted your head just a little bit, and shushing you softly, Frank caressed your cheek with his free hand.

”Hey there, pretty girl. I’m right here. You’re at the hospital, okay? I found you, uh, I found ya unconscious and I got you here”, he started, his rough voice a warm welcome as you got oriented — although as you did, you found yourself hoping you wouldn’t.

As soon as you remembered the couple of days you had had, shame, regret and guilt gushed into your system, poisoning you from within and encouraging you to bury your face in your hands. You groaned, but still blissfully unaware, Frank continued.

”I—I’m not really sure what happened and the doctors don’t wanna tell me anythin’…”, he trailed off, sounding and looking very much like a kicked puppy, and it made you feel so shitty. God, you really liked him, and now it felt like everything you had developed together was moments away from burning to ashes.

”I’m so sorry, Frank. I didn’t want you to get involved in this mess”, you breathed out, pursing your lips together awkwardly in an effort to not cry.

”Hey, you don’t gotta apologize. I… I wanna be involved in whatever you got goin’ on, y’know?” he shrugged before licking his lips and adding, ”and since I’m here now, maybe you could tell me what’s goin’ on?”

He made a damn good argument there. So, you decided to put on your big girl pants and rip off the band-aid.

”I suffer from these… spells, I guess. I deal with chronic illness and when I get sick, I get really sick. I’ve been struggling with it a lot this week, so I cancelled our date”, you explained with a grimace, but Frank didn’t seem shaken by it — worried, sure, but about to make your worst nightmares come true? Not by a long shot.

”Man, that’s… Shit, that sucks. No way ’round it. ’M sorry”, he sympathized, and you nodded quietly to accept his kindness. ”Maybe I’m just a big ole’ idiot but uh, you coulda just told me, yeah?” Frank wondered, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at his innocent attempt to understand. Granted, you weren’t making it easy for him.

”Yeah, that’s where my trust issues come in, I guess. Um, my ex was really… Well, the worst. I kinda learned to expect the worst from everyone, especially men, and I didn’t want to risk telling you because I didn’t know how you’d react. Even now I’m kind of worried about what this means for our future”, you admitted nervously, your fingers fiddling with the thin cover on top of you, and Frank immediately squeezed your hand to reassure you.

”I ain’t gonna do anythin’ you don’t want me to. I’ll try to learn about it and do whatever I can to help ya out, is that okay?” he questioned shyly, and with a quick nod, you smiled at him.

”It’s okay. I would like that. I just don’t want it to be an inconvenience or—or something that gives you too much control over me”, you explained, and tilting his head at you, Frank frowned.

”I don’t wanna control you, sweetheart. ’M sorry your ex was a piece of shit like that. But I promise ya, I ain’t gonna be the same. I’mma do this shit right”, he insisted, still squeezing your hand, and as his words hung in the air, you felt the anxiety slowly fade away. Maybe, this could work out.

”Thank you”, you whispered, and nodding to confirm it was the least he could do, Frank lifted your hand to his mouth and left a gentle kiss on the back of it.

”Next time… you can tell me and maybe I can come over and take care of you, yeah?” he offered, and when you broke into an approving smile, he flashed a grin at you. ”Good, good… ’Cause I gotta be honest, I really like you, girl. And I ain’t plannin’ on messin’ this up”, Frank pointed out, and with a giggle escaping your mouth, you gripped his hand a bit tighter.

”Don’t worry, you’re doing just fine so far.”

[the-uninformed-zennial]

So, uh, Fable ended.

And now I’m gonna be sappy on main.

I started watching Fable about half a year before I started being active in the fandom, around the time I started falling in love with my partner @hoardingpuffin . Watching Rae and Caspian’s relationship develop was actually part of what helped me realize that the things I was feeling for them were romantic and not just platonic. Surprisingly enough, that’s just the beginning of the profound effect Fable had on me.

I had never really interacted with fandom spaces before Fable. But when I caught up with lore sometime in November 2022, I decided to join the discord. It was a crazy place. Being someone who’d never really been in a server before I was completely overwhelmed and nervous, so I didn’t interact much for the first month or so.

Then I discovered that, despite the incredible love for the project, no one had made a “which character are you?” Quiz yet, so, I decided to fuck it and make one myself. The response I got to that was unlike any I had seen before. I was getting pinged weeks afterwards with people’s results and it made me really happy to see how much my work was appreciated by everyone in the community. It got me thinking about other ways I might be able to give back.

Then, as you all know, the stream “Call” and it’s partner “Response” came out on Ghosty and HeyHay’s channels. I’d been feeling so similarly to the two characters, dealing with my long distance relationship with Puffin. So, I took those feelings and the words Heyhay and Ghosty had used to convey them for their characters and put them into a song.

And then something insane happened.

Everyone liked it. Like, everyone liked it. This crappy recording I made at 2 AM suddenly got hundreds and then thousands of views when I put it on SoundCloud and YouTube. It was insane. I had written some songs before, but they’d always been ridiculed, so having a large group of people like the fable community enjoy something that I wrote was absolutely insane to me, and it encouraged me to make more.

I found myself being inspired by the characters in fable, connecting with different storylines or sentences said on streams. I found myself writing songs, one after another after another.  At one point I was writing a song a week for a period of about three months. I had never experienced this amount of raw creativity before, but every time I put a new song out, I only got encouraged to make more.

And then people started to ask me when I was going to put them on Spotify. And that was another moment that everything changed. I realized if I was gonna put these out there in such an official way I didn’t want it to just be a bunch of crappy recorded singles. So I needed to make an album.

That was something I had never considered doing before. I knew nothing about music editing or sound mixing. Up until that point all of my songs had been made on GarageBand at 2 AM with very little editing or mixing going into them. So, I started saving for a real music editing program and within a few months I got there.

Then came the actual making of the album. I took a few months off in the summer and just dove headfirst into it. Every spare moment I wasn’t modding for the Sherbathon, or the discord, or streaming my own lore, was spent working on those songs. And while looking back now I wish I knew what I know now about music editing, I’m so glad I did what I did. Putting that album out, seeing how you all responded to it… it made me realize that this is something I love, something that I don’t have to wait for someone else’s permission or teaching to do.

This fandom is the reason I’m a musical artist and that is something I don’t think I will ever be able to express the importance of enough.



As much as I could talk about the unending support and encouragement I received from the wonderful cast members throughout my experience making the album, or how being given the role of mod on the fandom discord taught me so much about how to be a creator in my own right, or even the amazing experience I had being able to make songs for the lore. When it comes right down to it, it was the community, cast and all, that impacted my life in the profound way it has been. So thank you, each and every one of you, whether you are a cast member, a fan, a fellow mod, or even just someone who streamed a song you didn’t have any context for. Thank you for changing my life, for giving me the encouragement to pursue my dreams.

Thank you Fable SMP cast, crew, and community 💕

[nights-at-crystarium]

Fragments - episodes 36-40 author notes

You can find similar breakdown posts on older episodes in my pinned!

I didn’t need to spend so much screentime on Titania fight, yet it was a fun personal challenge. I’d never written/drawn a cohesive fight scene before. The scripted ingame instances don’t leave much room for imagination, I wanted to stay away from the fourth wall, and make up a more immersive scene. How do you even make it look mildly interesting? You’d think, well, characters will just flail at each other until one of them dies, right?

So yeah the biggest challenge was creating the ebb and flow. What affects Vivi’s actions? Why wouldn’t he just murder Titania like any other opponent, and be done with it? I threw in a generous amount of inner pov (that I previously used very sparingly) and some silly tricks. The stakes are high, yes, it’s a Lightwarden vs WoD encounter, but Titania still retains their playful personality above all else. Vivi's here just to do his job, but he also knows that he's dealing with a fae.

The msq makes Titania stand out among other wardens, I capitalized on that and hc’d that they’re important to Feo Ul, and, by proxy, to Vivi. That instantly provided some emotional stakes, and an answer to why he doesn’t rush to kill them out of the door.

Vivi enters the castle in episode 35, and mostly runs in circles, analyzing his enemy, and even falls victim to illusions. This could’ve been it for him, but I daresay it worried none of us because we’re just at the beginning of a story about this guy, he’s THE guy in this universe not for no reason, he’ll manage.

No deep meaning behind "grasshopper", I just thought it's a bizarrely precise descriptor of both Vivi's long legs and dragoon jumps, and it fits the natural theme of the fight.

Vivi didn’t go in unprepared.

This line will be relevant again in like, 5-7 years from now :’>

More under the cut~

He always, always doubts everything, especially when it comes to his level of power. Self-nerfing. A light (heh) case of an impostor syndrome.

Everyone loved the bonk for meme reasons, Vivi simply bought himself some time to cast.

The Rainbow Sparkles of Believing in Yourself! And of something else, perhaps. I’m planting quite a bit of stuff for future, this one should take a mere year or so to pay off.

I hope this pose’s enough of a hint that you shouldn't be taking episode 37 too seriously.

Yes, he used his spear to ~cast~. And took a sailormoon pose. This's his, monoclass dragoon’s, interpretation of what the caster magic’s probably like.

Offscreen, Titania comes to their senses and shrills “so you wanna play rough?!”, Vivi ignores them, concerned with only one thing: did he succeed? How did the test of his custom spell go?

It only worked out because the both of them are idiots.

I like to emphasize that Fragments isn’t about retelling the msq, or big epic battles, but here, where I actually put my heart into it, I feel like I managed to pull off at least one epic beat you’d typically see in an action-focused comic. Super proud of this panel ;w;

This’s a standard panel divider I’ve used multiple times before, but it couldn’t be more visually appropriate here :3c

So, to recap. Vivi asks Titania if they miss the night sky. They do. Vivi brings the night sky to them, and lo, something actually happens. I illustrated this “something” as one of their eyes getting sort of cleansed here. This story suddenly takes a mahou shoujo (shounen, heh) turn, I appreciate that it may cause some eyebrows to raise, but I think it’s okay to take creative liberties like this in a story themed around identity, agency, and believing in yourself. If Titania’s so strong as to retain a tiny bit of their old self, to cohesively partake in a simple convo, then why can’t they return, even if for a brief moment, given the proper assistance.

An appropriate reaction to the wild bs that’s going on. Imagine inventing the tale of WoD in the First, only to witness THIS.

As about Vivi, he can save a soul when he genuinely cares for it. We haven’t seen him do this before. He does it for Feo Ul explicitly, implicitly as a self-reflection. He’s projecting so hard after realizing that Titania looks like him. He wishes for them what he'd wish for himself: to rest, to be treated with care and consideration. They don't only look like him, they're also unfree, tortured by something. Empathy or not, this’s the kindest fight Vivi’s ever fought.

I’m iffy about the canon talents that come with the Echo. You can understand any sentient creature, okay. What happens when you speak, does the other party feel the difference between that soulspeak and their native tongue? Does it feel off? Does it offend? I incorporated my own misgivings into Vivi’s thoughts about his Echo. He doesn't use soulspeak here out of respect and concern that Titania might not react well to it, throwing the entire plan out of the window. Thus he memorized quite a bit of fae words before the fight. This’s his way to mark himself as one of their people, or at least to show that he truly cares.

STAY TUNED FOR EPISODE 41

Vivien Doubter Rell. Also yay first nod!

Embracing his new duty, and possibly giving Titania the hug they deserve.

Look HE’S OKAY. For now. I just thought the hiccup would be a cute way to acknowledge the terrible power he’s just absorbed. The canon cutscene moves on unblinking, but here’s different.

Bracing himself for confrontation. Things might go awry. Or might not. Vivi doesn't know. Worst case scenario: this’s the end of his sweet lil friendship with Feo Ul. Do they like him, or a Titania-lookalike in him?

“Oh bugger...” big pets come with big responsibilities, my dear Feo Ul.

Just to reinforce his fae-ness.

Vivi had full control in this fight. Analyzed the enemy, successfully tested some crazy tricks, managed to have a heart-to-heart that resulted in getting a permission to kill Titania not with violence, but with mercy. So much could’ve gone wrong, but just didn’t. Vivi’s used to this, even if he constantly doubts everything, this’s how it always goes. He’s being flung at tasks with abysmal odds, somehow he emerges victorious.

I just like this panel so much okay.

This arc may feel slow, but it gives depth to Vivi and Feo Ul's relationship, and seeing them together in later episodes will spark even more joy.

Even after a warm moment they’d just shared, Vivi’s still wary. I broke out an analysis of what external influence, pressure to change means to him, please read this post if you missed it. YEAH TAGS AS WELL.

His expression here is an attempt to downplay the anxiety and swing the odds in his favor. What if Feo Ul insists and throws a tantrum? What if he has to become Titania right now, and there’s no way around this? Let’s make puppy eyes just incase, maybe that helps.

One more personal fav panel. There’s SO MUCH in this look. They’re on a threshold, about to become something else on Vivi’s behalf. Because they love him so much. They’ve instantly become friends because they don’t want anything from each other, just the company. Feo Ul’s such a breath of fresh air for Vivi, a new hope in a new world, where he’s (comparatively) a nobody, where people still have the potential to love him for who he is as a person. This’s why our crimson pixie gets so much screentime.

Vivi really said XD

The next few episodes wrap up the Il Mheg arc, and focus on good vibes and celebration. ShB follows a rollercoaster formula where it makes you smile at something nice and sweet only to whack you in the face right after, and I’m trying to do the same :3c

As always, thanks for reading~