#it’s not the first time we’ve seen that

[classyrbf]

IS THERE SOMEONE ELSE! — GOJO SATORU

SYNOPSIS...you and gojo get into a fight after realizing that he’s been hiding something about your relationship the entire time

INFO...gojo x fem!reader, angsty, arguing, breaking up(?), not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

You slam the door to the penthouse, your heels clicking against the mahogany floors with each step. You toss your purse on the couch, hearing Gojo opening the front door and shutting it quickly. “Baby, please just listen to me.” He pleads, following after you.

“I don’t wanna hear your bullshit excuse, Satoru.” You roll your eyes, plopping down on the edge of the bed to relieve your sore feet of the heels you’ve been wearing all night to your boyfriends opening event he’s been planning for months now.

“I’m not trying to make excuses. Please.” He walks over towards you and toss your heel at him. “Stop throwing shit and just talk to me!”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do!” You stand to your feet, glaring daggers at him. “Do you know how embarrassing that was for me? God, you’re a fucking asshole.” You seethe, narrowing your eyes. “I sat there all alone, while you let some woman feel up on you the entire night? Are you out your fucking mind?” You scoff.

“She’s just an old friend, y/n. I swear I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.” He shakes his head at you, grabbing onto your arms tightly.

“Oh, yeah? So I when I came up and introduced myself as your girlfriend none of your friends were looking at me like I was crazy? I know we’ve been only together for a year, Satoru, but that’s fucking low.” You pull away from him. “They didn’t even know who I was. Then you got miss prissy bitch clearly flirting with you in front of me and you didn’t do a damn thing to stop it!” You brush past him, stomping over towards the bathroom.

“Slow down, y/n! Baby—”

“I’m not your fucking ‘baby’, Satoru.” You gather all of your products from the bathroom, from your makeup and skincare to your clothes and shampoo.

“Stop for just one second.” He spins you around so you’re facing him. “Don’t leave. I swear you’re the only girl for me. I know I fucked up, I know I did. I embarrassed you, made you look stupid and I am so fucking sorry. But please do not leave.” He cups your face gently and his touch feels so inviting, but you can’t forgive him that easily. “I only want you. I only need you.”

You look up at him through your lashes, swallowing thickly as you bite the inside of your cheek. “Should’ve thought about that when you let her kiss your cheek and you smiled at her. Right in front of me. Get the fuck off of me.” You push him, rushing to grab your bag from the closet.

Gojo lets out a tired sigh, following you. He wasn’t going to let you go. Not like this. “I shouldn’t have let her near me.”

“Why was she so comfortable with being that close to you, huh?” You question, furrowing your brows as you turn to look at him. “Now that I think about it. Let me guess, you two were more than just friends.” You stand to your feet, snatching your clothes off the hangers and shoving them into your bag. He looks at you, opening his mouth to speak but nothing comes out. And from the look in his eyes, you already knew the truth. A bitter laugh leaves your lips, shaking your head in disappointment.

“It was before you! Before us! We never dated it was just a small thing between me and her!” He tried to explain. “Baby, I swear! Once I met you, everything changed. I cut her off and focused all my attention on you. You’re the only who has my heart.” He grabbed your wrist only for you to pull away.

“Clearly I ain’t the only who who’s got your dick, though.” You slam the closet door shut, turning your back towards him.

“Don’t say that, y/n. That’s the first time I’ve seen her in years!”

“Yeah? Well all your friends sure know about her. She must’ve been great in bed, Satoru. Me? Well, they looked at me like I was a fucking ghost!” You scoff. “Like I was some delusional bitch who came up to you and said I was your girlfriend!” You throw your hands up in disbelief. “You must take me for fucking joke. It must be written on my forehead or something!”

“I don’t take you for a joke! You’re my goddamn girlfriend. You live with me. You have my initial around your fucking neck! I love you and you know that!” He takes a step towards you.

“Do I know that?” You ask aloud, cocking your head to the side.

“What—of course I love you. What the fuck are you saying?” He looked at you with pure confusion.

“You’re a joke. One of your friends, Shoko, pulled me aside and told me the only reason you got with me is because your little fling ended up getting a boyfriend herself around the time we started dating. You’re a piece of shit.” You revealed the truth to him, watching him stare at you blankly, lost for words. “Think I wouldn’t find out?” You ripped off the necklace with his initial, tossing it at him.

“Yes, I was upset that she got a boyfriend but—”

“So you had feelings for her. And just to cover them up, you got with me as a distraction.” You step closer towards him. “Listen to me, Satoru, don’t ever try and contact me again, keep whatever fucking gifts you bought me and return them, sell them, do whatever because I am done,” you spoke through gritted teeth.

“No, no, no, baby. You can’t leave me. Yea I liked her before, but so fucking what? I was never in love with her, not like I am with you. I was too fucking stupid. I still am! Just give me another chance to fix this. I don’t want us to end this way.” He grabs your packed bag from your hands and tosses it on the bed.

“Let me go, Satoru.”

“No,” he shakes his head, “I can’t. You’re everything to me. She’s nothing compared to you.” He sniffles, holding your hands in his. “I love you so much and I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you the truth. I’m sorry I embarrassed you. And I’m sorry for entertaining the idea that she could even come close to you. She can’t.” His hands cupped your face, his heart pounding in anticipation as he waited to hear any words from you.

You reached up, pulling his hands away from your face. “Bye, Satoru.” You walked past him, grabbing your bag off of the bed. As much as it hurt to leave, you knew you had to respect yourself. Time and space was what you needed to think. With each step out the door, you could hear Gojo’s sobs, something you’ve never heard before in the year you’ve been with him. For the strong, flashily and confident man he is, you never once thought you’d see or him break down. Especially not for you.

[theetherealbloom]

Don't Stop Talking To Me, And Maybe Stay Here Forever

Summary: You join Pedro Pascal in Morocco while he’s filming Gladiator 2. Between the beauty of the Moroccan landscape, the two of you share intimate moments, from quiet rooftop dinners to playful photo-taking and teasing with the cast.

Or… “I'll hold you, I'll know you. I'll never leave out the back door. And I'd love to complete you, hope you get all you could ask for.”

I just read your latest pedro fic it was the BEST DAMN THING i’ve ever read, my heart is going to burst out of my chest from all the butterflies 🦋🫠❤️ will you write more for pedro? perhaps his gf could visit him in marocco or something while he’s filming gladiator and to meet everyone from set and maybe have some alone quality time? :3 just a suggestion 😌 anyways have a lovely dayyy ^^ — anon

Paring: Pedro Pascal x F!Reader

Warnings: Established Relationship, Age-Gap(ish), TOOTH-ROTTING FLUFF, Slight Angst, Swearing, Anxiety, Cheesy Dialogue, Cuddling, Romance, Kissing, Real People Fiction, Cameras, Social Media, Embarrassment, Teasing, Shower, Slight Nudity, Make Out Session, Celebrities

Word Count: 5.7k

A/N: Okay, so, we’ve all seen the photo dumps!??!! Yes! GREAT! I haven’t watched Gladiator 2 cause it isn’t out yet in my country, so there’ll be no spoilers here mhmhmhmhm. I’m just gonna make stuff up based on the pictures Pedro posted on his Instagram lol. And again, this is all made-up, fictional, self-indulgent vibes so pls no one come after me ahhhhhh T^T

Also lowkey, I can see multiple parts to this so… stay tuned.

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Songs: Packing It Up by Gracie Abrams, this is how you fall in love by Jeremy Zucker and Chelsea Cutler

gif by @a7estrellas

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OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO — DAY

The warm Moroccan breeze kissed your skin as you stepped onto the bustling set of Gladiator 2. Pedro’s laughter echoed from somewhere nearby, his distinct voice easy to pick out over the hum of activity. Your heart swelled just hearing it. He was always magnetic, but here—working, immersed in a world of creativity and camaraderie—he was luminous.  

You adjusted your sunglasses, feeling both excited and slightly anxious. Meeting Pedro’s castmates felt like stepping into his other life, one where you weren’t the center of his world but a welcome visitor orbiting it. He’d reassured you endlessly. “They’ll love you. I mean, how could they not?” But still, nerves lingered.  

“Mi amor!” Pedro’s voice cut through your thoughts. He emerged from behind a cluster of tents, his smile so wide it could eclipse the Moroccan sun.  

“Hey, stranger.” You grinned, letting him sweep you into a tight hug.  

He pulled back just enough to press a kiss to your forehead, his arms still firmly around your waist. “You made it,” he whispered, his lips brushing your temple.  

“Of course, I made it,” you teased, tilting your head to look up at him. “I missed you too much to stay away.”  

The day unfolded in bursts of joy.  

Pedro introduced you to Coco Ullrich, Paul Mescal, and the rest of the cast. Everyone was warm and welcoming, their teasing camaraderie quickly drawing you in. Pedro stayed close, his hand finding yours at every opportunity, like he couldn’t stand to be too far away.  

Later, you found yourself perched on a stool in the makeup trailer, Pedro sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of you. “Hold still,” you said, trying to fix his disheveled hair.  

Coco stood nearby, laughing as Pedro playfully swatted at your hands. “I’m serious, guapo! You’ll go out there looking like you just rolled out of bed.”  

“Maybe I did roll out of bed,” he quipped, grinning.  

You raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t, but if you keep squirming, I’m going to make sure you look like it.”  

Coco shook her head, still laughing. “I don’t know how you put up with him.”  

“I have my ways,” you said, giving Pedro a mock glare.  

Pedro leaned closer, his eyes softening. “You’re lucky I love you,” he murmured, his lips brushing yours before you could stop him.  

“Pedro!” you protested, laughing as he pulled you into a full kiss, distracting you from your task.  

“Hopeless,” Coco muttered, snapping a quick photo of the moment.  

OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO — SUNSET

The Moroccan sunset painted the sky in hues of gold and rose as you, Pedro, and the cast settled onto the soft blankets laid out for an impromptu picnic. The sprawling desert seemed to stretch infinitely, its serene stillness a striking contrast to the chaotic energy of the set. A light breeze rustled through the palm trees in the distance, carrying the faint sound of laughter and the clinking of glasses.

Pedro sat behind you, his arms comfortably wrapped around your waist as you leaned back into his chest. His fingertips absentmindedly traced small, lazy circles on your bare skin where your shirt had ridden up slightly. It was a touch that grounded you, soothing and sweet, and yet it made your heart ache with affection.

“This is perfect,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it louder might shatter the fragile beauty of the moment.

Pedro leaned closer, his lips brushing your ear. “No, you’re perfect,” he said softly, his voice laced with adoration.

You turned your head to look at him, catching the warmth in his gaze. He looked at you like you hung the very stars above, and your cheeks flushed. “Cheesy,” you teased, though you couldn’t keep the smile off your face.

“Honest,” he countered, leaning down to press his forehead against yours. His nose nudged yours affectionately, and for a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of you.

Paul Mescal, lounging nearby with a bottle of something cold in his hand, cleared his throat dramatically. “Alright, lovebirds, can you save the smoldering for the cameras? Some of us are trying to enjoy the sunset without third-wheeling your Notebook audition.”

Coco Ullrich snorted from her spot on the blanket, where she was busy assembling a makeshift charcuterie board. “Please, Paul, don’t act like you’re not taking notes for your own love scenes.”

Paul shot her a deadpan look. “What’s there to take notes on? I’m already perfect.”

“Debatable,” Coco quipped, popping a grape into her mouth and grinning.  

Pedro chuckled, his chest rumbling against your back. “Paul, don’t be jealous. You already found someone who tolerates you.”  

“Oh, I’m not jealous,” Paul said, gesturing between you and Pedro. “I’m inspired. The level of clinginess you two have achieved—it’s an art form.”  

“Clinginess?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow.  

“Yes, clinginess,” Paul said, smirking. “He hasn’t let go of you since you got here. It’s like watching a koala in human form.”

Coco leaned in conspiratorially. “Do you think he’d survive a day without her?”  

“Doubtful,” Paul replied, his tone grave.  

Pedro shook his head, his arms tightening around you playfully. “Let them joke,” he said into your ear, his voice a low murmur. “They’re just bitter they don’t have their partners to hold them while they complain about the heat.”  

You turned your head slightly to whisper back, “I think they’re projecting.”  

Pedro laughed, loud and unabashed, and the sound sent warmth flooding through you.  

“Alright, enough roasting Pedro,” Coco said, waving her hands. “Let’s focus on the important stuff—like this cheese board I’m absolutely nailing.”

“Coco, you put a block of cheese next to some crackers,” Paul pointed out.  

“And yet, it’s still better than anything you’ve contributed,” she shot back.

You couldn’t help but laugh as they continued to bicker, the dynamic between the cast a perfect blend of teasing and genuine affection. It felt good to be a part of this world for a little while, to see Pedro in his element and to share these small, beautiful moments with the people who meant so much to him.  

As the sun dipped lower, painting the sky with deeper hues of crimson and violet, Pedro shifted slightly behind you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You doing okay, sweetheart?” he asked softly, his voice meant just for you.

“I’m better than okay,” you said, turning your face to his. “This is one of those moments I’ll never forget.”

“Same,” he replied, his eyes searching yours. “But mostly because you’re here.”

Paul groaned from across the blanket. “Seriously, someone hand me a bucket. I can’t handle this level of sap.”

“You’re just missing Gracie,” Coco teased, tossing a cracker at Paul with a sly grin.  

Paul caught it mid-air with a dramatic flourish. “She’s the love of my life, thank you very much. I’m thriving, just long-distance thriving.” His wide smile softened slightly, a dreamy look crossing his face.  

Pedro chuckled, resting his chin on your shoulder as he held you closer. “See, even Paul can be romantic. It’s not just us being disgustingly in love.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Paul said, waving him off, though the grin never left his face. “But you two are setting the bar impossibly high. Stop making the rest of us look bad.”

Coco shook her head with mock exasperation. “Let’s face it, no one can compete with Pedro’s clingy koala act.”  

“Hey, it’s not clingy if it’s mutual,” you chimed in, leaning back into Pedro’s embrace.  

“Exactly!” Pedro said, kissing the side of your neck for emphasis. “This is just... efficient affection.”  

“Efficient affection?” Coco repeated, laughing so hard she nearly knocked over the cheese board. “That’s the worst excuse I’ve ever heard.”

Pedro shrugged, utterly unbothered, his lips brushing your temple as he murmured, “Don’t let them ruin this for us.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” you whispered back, tilting your head to press a soft kiss to his jaw.  

The first stars began to dot the darkening sky, their glow faint but steady against the fading hues of gold and rose. The laughter of the group blended with the soothing whisper of the desert breeze, wrapping the evening in a cocoon of warmth and love.

You let out a contented sigh, your fingers intertwining with Pedro’s. These moments—filled with jokes, tenderness, and the quiet magic of a Moroccan sunset—were the kind you knew you’d carry with you forever.

THE NEXT DAY

OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO – AFTERNOON  

The afternoon sun hung low in the sky, casting warm golden light over the sprawling desert set. The faint hum of activity outside the large tent provided a calming backdrop as you and Pedro sat together, stealing a moment away from the chaos of production.  

Pedro’s lap had become your designated resting place, his arms wrapped snugly around your waist as you leaned into him. You had been quietly chatting about the day—how stunning the desert looked on camera, how Paul had stolen one of Coco’s snacks during a break—when the warmth of the afternoon began to lull you both into sleep.  

His hand moved lazily up and down your back, the motion soothing as his voice grew quieter, more relaxed. “You know,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple, “this might be my favorite part of the day.”  

“Falling asleep during work?” you teased, your voice soft and playful.  

“Falling asleep with you,” he corrected, his smile audible in his words.  

It wasn’t long before exhaustion claimed you both, your head tucked under his chin and his cheek resting against your hair. The quiet hum of the tent became a comforting cocoon, and time seemed to stretch and blur.  

The sound of muffled laughter stirred you from sleep, pulling you out of the warm haze. You blinked against the light, realizing you were still tucked into Pedro’s chest, his arms holding you close even as he began to wake.  

“Don’t move,” a familiar voice called. You turned your head to see Paul Mescal standing a few feet away, phone in hand, his grin wide and mischievous.  

Next to him, Coco Ullrich smirked as she aimed her phone at the two of you. “We’re documenting history here. You’ll thank us later.”  

Pedro stirred, squinting at them through his grogginess. “Seriously?” His voice was raspy, a mix of sleep and disbelief.  

Paul shrugged, grinning even wider as he showed Pedro the photo. “We couldn’t resist. Look at this. It’s like a promo poster for the most annoyingly sweet rom-com ever.”  

Pedro glanced at the photo, then at you, and laughed softly. “We should use that for the holiday cards this year.”  

You groaned, burying your face in his chest. “This is so embarrassing. They’re never going to let us live this down.”  

Coco laughed, flipping through her photos. “Oh, it’s way too late for that. I’m sending this to the group chat and the PR team. They’ll love it.”  

“Please don’t,” you pleaded, your voice muffled against Pedro’s shirt.  

Paul tilted his head dramatically. “Why not? It’s just a little fun. Besides, you two are giving us all cavities with how sweet you are. We’re suffering.”  

Pedro smirked, holding you a little tighter. “You’re suffering? Sounds like a personal problem.”  

“Alright, alright, enough!” A gravelly voice interrupted, and you looked up to see Ridley Scott standing at the edge of the tent. His hands were on his hips, but the amused twinkle in his eye gave him away.  

“Ridley,” you started, your cheeks flushing with heat. “I’m so sorry—”  

He held up a hand to stop you, his smirk growing. “Don’t apologize. If anything, I should thank you. Pedro’s been suspiciously well-behaved since you arrived. But,” he added with a pointed glance at Pedro, “if this keeps up, we’ll have to rename the film The Gladiator and the Muse. Production’s going to take twice as long.”  

The crew burst into laughter, and you buried your face back in Pedro’s chest, groaning. “This is officially the most embarrassing moment of my life.”  

Pedro chuckled, his hand brushing gently over your back. “Embarrassing? Nah. You’re the best thing about being here.”  

You peeked up at him, your cheeks still warm, and saw the sincerity in his eyes. “You mean that?”  

“Every word,” he said, his voice soft. “You make everything easier, better… you make it all worth it.”  

Your heart swelled, and a small smile broke through your embarrassment. “Okay,” you whispered. “I’ll try to believe you.”  

“Believe me,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.  

Paul groaned, breaking the tender moment. “Someone get a camera crew. We’re turning this into a reality show. Lovebirds in the Desert.”  

Pedro laughed, finally standing and pulling you to your feet. “Careful, Paul. You might not survive the sequel.”  

Ridley clapped his hands, his voice carrying over the lingering laughter. “Alright, lovebirds, enough stalling. Let’s get back to work! Pedro, we’ve got a fight scene to shoot.”  

Pedro gave you one last reassuring smile before winking. “Don’t go far. I’ll need more luck soon.”  

You nodded, watching him head back to set, and felt a sense of warmth that no amount of teasing could dampen. As you stepped out of the tent, the desert sun shining overhead, you knew this moment—this strange, beautiful mix of chaos and love—was one you’d carry with you forever.

OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO – EVENING  

The rooftop restaurant was like something out of a dream. Lanterns hung delicately from wrought iron fixtures, casting warm, flickering light over the table as the sun dipped below the horizon. The air was cool but pleasant, carrying the faint scent of jasmine from a nearby garden. Below, the city of Marrakech stretched out in an intricate maze of rooftops and twinkling lights, the hum of life soft and distant.  

Pedro had arranged everything, from the secluded corner table to the small vase of your favorite flowers waiting when you arrived. He always had a way of making even the simplest moments feel like magic.  

“Look at this view,” you murmured, leaning against the wrought iron railing as the sky turned from gold to a deep, dusky pink.  

Pedro stood close behind you, his hand resting gently on the small of your back. “The view’s got nothing on you,” he said softly, the teasing lilt in his voice balanced by the sincerity in his eyes.  

You laughed, shaking your head as you turned to face him. “That’s a terrible line.”  

“Maybe,” he admitted, grinning as he pulled out his phone. “But it’s true. Hold still.”  

Before you could protest, he snapped a photo, catching you mid-laugh as you tried to dodge the camera. “Pedro!” you groaned, your cheeks warming.  

He chuckled, looking at the photo with a self-satisfied smile. “Perfect. Might frame this one.”  

“Stop it,” you said, trying to grab the phone from him, but he held it out of reach, his grin only widening.  

“Never,” he replied, his free hand reaching across the table to take yours. His thumb brushed over your knuckles, and his gaze softened. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”  

Your stomach fluttered at the way he said it—no teasing this time, just quiet, earnest affection.  

“Now you’re just being unfair,” you muttered, trying to hide your blush.  

Pedro leaned forward, his head tilting slightly as if to study you closer. “Not unfair. Just honest.”  

You rolled your eyes playfully, but your heart was pounding. In a bid to regain some ground, you grabbed your own phone and quickly snapped a picture of him just as he brought your hand to his lips. The resulting photo was unfairly good—his lashes long, the lantern light catching the gold in his eyes, the softness in his expression making your chest ache.  

“Got you,” you said triumphantly, holding up the phone.  

Pedro laughed, his thumb brushing over your knuckles again as he met your gaze. “Now we’re even?”  

“Now we’re even,” you confirmed, though your grin gave away how smug you felt.  

The waiter arrived with dessert just then—a delicate plate of Moroccan pastries accompanied by a small bowl of honey and almonds. You both leaned forward at the same time, reaching for the same pastry, and burst into laughter when your fingers brushed.  

“Go ahead,” Pedro said, gesturing gallantly.  

“Such a gentleman,” you teased, breaking off a piece of the pastry and dipping it into the honey. You held it up to his lips, your pulse skipping when he leaned in without hesitation.  

“Delicious,” he said, his voice low and warm. “But I think it tastes better coming from you.”  

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, trying to suppress a smile as you took a bite yourself. The flaky pastry melted on your tongue, its sweetness perfectly balanced by the honey.  

As you shared the dessert, your conversation drifted from playful teasing to the little things that filled your days. Pedro told you about a funny moment on set earlier when Paul had forgotten his lines and improvised something so absurd even Ridley couldn’t stop laughing.  

“And then,” Pedro continued, his grin infectious, “he tried to blame me, saying my face was too distracting.”  

“Well, he’s not wrong,” you teased, earning a dramatic roll of Pedro’s eyes.  

“Oh, so now you’re on his side?”  

“I’m on the side of the truth,” you said, popping an almond into your mouth.  

Pedro chuckled, shaking his head. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”  

Your smile softened, and you leaned your chin on your hand as you looked at him. “Probably still charming everyone who crosses your path.”  

“Not like this,” he said, his tone suddenly serious. He reached across the table again, his fingers lacing with yours. “You make everything better. You make me better.”  

Your throat tightened at the rawness in his voice, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, his words settling deep in your chest.  

“You do the same for me,” you said quietly.  

The soft music playing in the background faded into the hum of the city as the two of you sat there, the world narrowing to just this moment. Pedro brought your hand to his lips again, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before resting your joined hands on the table.  

As the night stretched on, the two of you continued to talk about everything and nothing—your favorite childhood memories, the places you wanted to visit together, the little quirks you loved about each other.  

When it was time to leave, Pedro stood and extended a hand to help you up. “One last picture before we go?” he asked, his phone already in hand.  

You nodded, letting him pull you into his side. The lanterns glowed softly behind you as he kissed your cheek just as the camera clicked.  

Looking at the photo, you smiled. It was perfect—just like this night, just like him. 

L’HÔTEL MARRAKECH, MOROCCO – EVENING

The golden hues of the evening sun had long faded, leaving the hotel suite illuminated only by the soft glow of warm, ambient lighting. Laughter filled the room, bubbling up between stolen glances and playful teasing. Pedro leaned against the edge of the plush sofa, his hand resting casually on his hip as you doubled over with giggles at another one of his overly dramatic impressions. 

“I’m just saying,” he said with a grin, holding up his hands in mock innocence. “If anyone here is getting an Oscar for Most Entertaining Human, it’s me.”

You rolled your eyes, swatting at him lightly. “You? Entertaining? Please. You’re just lucky I think you’re cute.”

“Just cute?” he teased, his voice dropping into a low, mock-hurt murmur. He stepped closer, tilting his head. “That’s disappointing.”

And just like that, with no warning, he took your hand and spun you gently into his arms. There was no music, no sound but the faint rustle of the curtains and the muted hum of life outside your window. But to Pedro, there was no need for anything more. 

“Dance with me,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath, pulling you flush against him.

“Pedro,” you started to protest, but the way he was looking at you—so earnest, so unguarded—stole the words from your lips. He rested his forehead against yours, his arms wrapping around you like he was afraid to let go. 

“You are the reason I can breathe,” he murmured. His voice cracked slightly, raw and unfiltered. “The reason I can survive.”

Your chest tightened, and your hands gripped the soft cotton of his shirt as you closed your eyes. Slowly, the two of you began to sway, side to side, as if the universe itself had orchestrated this silent melody just for you.

“Pedro,” you whispered, tears threatening to spill as the weight of his words sank deep into your soul. “You don’t have to—”

“Shh.” He cut you off gently, his lips brushing the crown of your head. “I want to. You’re my safe place.”

Together, you moved as one, the world outside forgotten. The phones were switched off, the curtains drawn, and for a moment, it felt like time had ceased to exist. All that mattered was this—his arms around you, your head resting on his chest, and the way his heartbeat felt steady and strong beneath your cheek.

“What’s easy is right,” you whispered suddenly, echoing words your mother had once said. The truth of it struck you in that moment, how being with Pedro never felt like a choice—it was instinct. Like breathing. Like coming home. 

Pedro smiled, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. “What’s easy is right,” he repeated softly. “Then I guess it’s easy to know... I’m going to love you forever.”

You laughed softly, though the lump in your throat made it difficult. “Forever’s a long time.”

He tilted your chin up, his warm, brown eyes crinkling at the corners with a quiet joy. “Not nearly long enough,” he said, his voice a low promise. “You’ll be my best friend until we’re old and gray. And even then, I’ll still love you.”

There was something in the way he said it—so simple, so sure—that your knees nearly gave out. But as always, Pedro was there, holding you steady, keeping you close. 

This is how you fall in love, you realized. Not in a blaze of fireworks, but in the quiet moments where you let go and they hold you up. 

“Do you know what you’ve done to me?” Pedro said after a long silence, his voice filled with wonder. “You make my stomach ache with hope. You make my hands stop shaking. I wake up smiling now, and it’s because of you.”

You bit your lip, your fingers tracing lazy patterns across his chest. “Pedro…”

“No, listen to me,” he insisted, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “Love isn’t supposed to be heavy. It’s not supposed to hurt. It’s supposed to be this. Us. A safe place. A hand to hold through every storm.”

His words broke something open inside you, and you nodded, letting the tears spill over. “You’re my safe place too,” you whispered. “You make me believe I deserve this.”

Pedro pulled you closer, resting his chin on the top of your head as he swayed you gently. “You deserve everything,” he murmured. “Every laugh, every sunrise, every stupid little joke I’ll tell for the next fifty years.”

You both laughed softly, the sound mingling with the quiet hum of the room. The world outside could wait. For now, all that mattered was this moment—this love that was soft, steady, and unshakable.

Right from your hips to your cuticles, you were everything to him, and he was everything to you. Wherever you both went, it was heaven. And neither of you ever wanted to leave. 

Steam filled the bathroom, the warmth clinging to the mirrors and wrapping around the two of you like a soft cocoon. Pedro stood under the cascade of water, droplets running down his broad shoulders and soaking his messy curls. His eyes flicked toward you, a tender smile tugging at his lips as you stepped closer, your fingers gently reaching for the shampoo bottle.  

“Turn around,” you said softly, motioning for him to face away from you.  

“Yes, ma’am,” he teased, though there was a hint of shyness in his voice as he obeyed.  

You lathered the shampoo between your hands, your touch careful and affectionate as you worked it into his hair. His curls were soft and damp beneath your fingers, the grays glinting like silver in the dim light.  

“I love your hair,” you murmured, your voice reverent.  

Pedro let out a small, self-deprecating chuckle, tilting his head back slightly. “The gray makes me look old.”  

You paused, your hands stilling in his hair as you leaned around to catch his gaze. “Stop that. It doesn’t make you look old; it makes you look distinguished. And I happen to love every single one of these.” You tugged playfully at a curl for emphasis.  

He gave you a sheepish look, his lips twitching as he fought back a pout. “You’re just saying that because you’re stuck with me.”  

“Stuck with you?” you repeated, feigning outrage. “Oh, no, Pedro. I chose you—gray hair and all. And I’d choose you again. Every single day.”  

His pout softened into a smile, one so genuine it made your chest ache. “You’re too good to me,” he murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple.  

“And you deserve it,” you countered firmly, finishing his hair with a rinse.  

When it was your turn, Pedro insisted on returning the favor, his hands gentle as he massaged the conditioner into your hair. His touch lingered, his fingers tracing the nape of your neck as he marveled at you.  

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice thick with sincerity.  

“Even covered in soap?” you teased, feeling heat creep up your cheeks.  

“Especially covered in soap,” he replied, leaning down to steal a kiss.  

The shower ended with a flurry of soft laughter and playful splashes, the two of you wrapped in towels as you padded into the bedroom. Pedro pulled on a pair of boxers while you slipped into one of his oversized shirts, the hem brushing the tops of your thighs.  

The two of you slipped into bed, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm, golden light over the room. The air smelled faintly of the lavender lotion you’d rubbed on your hands, mingling with the subtle hint of Pedro’s cologne that still lingered on his skin. He had one arm draped lazily over your waist, his other hand holding a book he’d claimed to be interested in, though his wandering eyes betrayed him.

A book rested in your lap, too, but you’d long given up on reading. Instead, you could feel his gaze flickering to you, watching you more than the words on his page. It was endearing, the way he thought you wouldn’t notice, how he never grew tired of studying you like he’d never quite figure you out.  

“You’re not reading,” you finally accused, peeking at him over the edge of your book.  

Pedro grinned, unabashed. He set his book down on the nightstand and scooted closer, leaning his head on the pillow beside you. “Can you blame me?” he said, his voice soft and teasing. His hand reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his knuckles grazing your cheek. “I’ve got the most beautiful view right here.”  

You rolled your eyes, trying to fight the warmth rising in your cheeks, but the smile that stretched across your lips betrayed you. “You’re ridiculous,” you murmured, nudging him lightly with your elbow.  

“And yet, you love me,” he replied with mock arrogance, leaning back against the headboard with a self-satisfied smirk.  

“Unfortunately for me,” you quipped, though your tone was dripping with affection.  

Pedro’s laugh filled the room, low and warm, wrapping around you like a blanket. You settled back into your spot, his arm tightening slightly around your waist, anchoring you to him. For a while, there was only the sound of pages turning and the occasional creak of the bed as one of you shifted.  

Eventually, the books were forgotten, abandoned on the nightstand as the room grew darker, the soft click of the lamp switch plunging you into the comforting glow of moonlight spilling through the curtains.  

Lying side by side, your head resting on Pedro’s chest, you let your fingers trace lazy patterns along the bare skin of his arm. But your mind wouldn’t quiet, and as the minutes stretched on, the thoughts bubbling inside you demanded to be voiced.  

“Okay, but really,” you began, your voice breaking the comfortable silence. “Why is ‘llama’ spelled with two L’s? Wouldn’t one be enough? It’s not like we say ‘Llama-la.’”  

Pedro let out a soft laugh, the sound rumbling through his chest beneath your cheek. He tilted his head down to look at you, his lips quirking into a smile. “Mi amor, I adore you, but it’s almost midnight. Go to sleep.”  

“I can’t until I solve this mystery,” you said with mock determination, lifting your head to look at him.  

He sighed dramatically, feigning exasperation. “Fine. Maybe the second ‘L’ is there to confuse aliens.”  

You gasped, sitting up slightly. “That makes so much sense! Like, imagine aliens judging us for eating cereal with milk.”  

Pedro chuckled again, his arm tightening around you to keep you close. “Cereal with milk is sacred,” he said, his voice heavy with playful conviction. “If aliens have an issue with that, I’ll fight them myself.”  

You grinned, turning to prop yourself up on your elbow so you could face him fully. “Okay, serious question. If you could ask someone anything and be guaranteed the truth, who would it be?”  

Pedro cracked one eye open, his other hand lazily resting on your hip. “I’d ask you why you’re so determined to keep me awake,” he deadpanned, his lips twitching with a suppressed smile.  

You laughed, nudging him with your elbow. “I’m serious!”  

“Alright, alright,” he relented, the mirth in his eyes softening as he considered your question. “I’d ask my third-grade teacher if she really lost my homework or if she just didn’t like me.”  

You burst out laughing, the sound muffled by the way you buried your face into his chest. “That’s what you’d waste your question on?”  

“Don’t judge me,” he said with mock indignation, his fingers trailing absent patterns on your back. “It’s haunted me for years.”  

Your laughter subsided into a warm giggle as you tilted your head up to look at him. “Fine. My turn. I’d ask my mom if she’s proud of me. Like… really proud. Not just the ‘I’m your mom, so I have to say it’ kind of proud.”  

Pedro’s hand stilled on your back, his gaze softening as he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “She’s proud of you, baby,” he murmured against your skin. “And so am I. Always.”  

The weight of his words wrapped around your heart, a comforting balm that eased the ache of self-doubt. You nuzzled closer, your fingers curling around his as you let the quiet stretch between you for a moment.  

Moments later, you broke the silence again, your voice a whisper in the dark. “When I was little, I thought my toys came alive when I wasn’t looking. Like Toy Story. Honestly, I still kinda think they do.”  

Pedro let out a deep laugh, his chest shaking beneath you as he pulled you even closer. “I wouldn’t put it past them,” he said, his voice warm with amusement. “Your stuffed bunny? Definitely a troublemaker.”  

You giggled, your heart feeling impossibly light as his hand returned to its slow, soothing patterns on your back.  

The conversation drifted into comfortable nonsense, the kind of midnight musings that didn’t need to make sense but brought a certain kind of intimacy only shared in the quiet hours of the night.  

Finally, as your eyelids grew heavy and your words faded into murmurs, Pedro pressed a lingering kiss to your temple. “Goodnight, mi amor,” he whispered, his voice soft and steady.  

In his arms, with the world outside forgotten, you felt safe. Loved. His heartbeat was the only rhythm you needed as you drifted into sleep, a love like no other holding you steady through the night.

[mapiforpresident]

Reaction

Patri x reader x Pina

Summary: You have an allergic reaction during lunch.

The cafeteria was filled with the usual laughter and conversation as you sat with your teammates during lunch. It was a normal day at training, the kind of comforting routine you had come to love. Patri was seated on your left, leaning slightly toward Ingrid as they animatedly discussed some tactical nuance from the morning session. Claudia was on your right, giggling at something Alexia had said, her voice light and carefree. Across from you, Mapi was in the middle of an exaggerated story about a recent prank she’d pulled on Bruna, her hands moving dramatically as she spoke.

You were engaged in Mapi’s story, laughing between bites of your lunch, when it began. At first, it was subtle—a faint itch in your throat that made you reach for your water. You didn’t think much of it, sipping casually as you nodded along to Mapi’s tale.

But then the itch turned into a tightness. Your chest began to feel heavy, your breaths shorter and harder to draw in. Panic bloomed in the back of your mind, but you tried to remain calm, setting your fork down with shaky fingers. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe you were imagining it.

Except you weren’t.

The realization hit you like a wave. This wasn’t nothing. This was an allergic reaction. Your hand moved instinctively to your chest, and your vision started to narrow as your breath came in wheezing gasps. You wanted to call out, to alert someone, but your voice failed you.

Across the table, Mapi’s keen eyes noticed the change in your expression—the way your face had paled, the way your hand trembled as you clutched at your chest. Her smile dropped instantly, replaced by a look of alarm.

“Hey, are you okay?” she asked, her voice cutting through the noise at the table. When you didn’t respond, her chair scraped loudly against the floor as she stood. “¡Joder! She can’t breathe!”

The world around you erupted into chaos.

Patri’s head snapped up at Mapi’s shout, her conversation with Ingrid forgotten in an instant. Her eyes locked onto you, wide with terror as she took in the sight of you gasping for air, your hand still weakly clutching your chest.

“Amor!” she exclaimed, her voice trembling as she leapt to her feet.

Claudia, on your other side, turned sharply, her laughter vanishing in an instant. “What’s happening? What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice panicked as she reached for you.

“She’s having a reaction!” Mapi barked, already crouching beside you. “Get the epipen! Now!”

Patri’s heart was pounding as she turned on her heel, bolting toward the locker room and her bag where she kept an epipen for you. Her mind raced, panic threatening to consume her as she ran. She had never seen you like this before, never seen you struggle to breathe, and the thought of you in pain—of you in danger—was unbearable.

Meanwhile, Claudia’s hands were shaking as she crouched in front of you, her voice trembling but urgent. “Breathe, amor. Look at me. Just try to breathe, okay? We’ve got you. You’re going to be okay.”

Alexia, who had been sitting beside Claudia, had already pulled out her phone, her expression grim but focused. “We need an ambulance,” she said firmly, rattling off the address to the training facility and explaining the severity of the situation.

Mapi stayed by your side, her hand on your shoulder, her usually mischievous face now etched with worry. “Hang on, okay? Patri’s coming back. Just hold on a little longer.”

By the time Patri returned, epipen in hand, her chest was heaving from the sprint. Her mind was a whirlwind of fear and determination as she dropped to her knees beside you, fumbling with the cap of the pen. Her hands shook, but she forced herself to focus, to steady her grip.

“Hold still, mi vida,” she whispered, her voice cracking as she jabbed the epipen into your thigh.

The medication worked quickly, the tightness in your chest beginning to ease just enough for you to draw in a shallow, ragged breath. Relief washed over the group like a wave, but the tension didn’t dissipate entirely.

Claudia was still crouched in front of you, tears streaming down her face as she reached out to brush your hair back. “Amor, just keep breathing. Nice and slow, okay? You’re doing so good.”

Patri didn’t move from your side, her hand gripping yours tightly as if letting go might mean losing you. “You’re okay,” she murmured, though the words sounded more like a plea than a statement. “You’re okay now. I’m here. We’re here.”

The sound of sirens grew louder, and moments later, the paramedics arrived. They moved quickly, asking questions and checking your vitals as they prepared to load you onto the stretcher. Your consciousness flickered in and out, the edges of the world blurring, but you felt the steady presence of your girlfriends by your side.

“We’re coming with her,” Patri insisted, her tone leaving no room for argument as she climbed into the back of the ambulance.

Claudia followed, her hand never leaving yours as she settled beside you. “Stay with us, amor,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Please, stay with us.”

~~~

When you woke, the first thing you felt was the warmth of their hands holding yours. Your eyelids fluttered open, and you blinked against the harsh hospital lights.

“Amor,” Patri breathed, her voice breaking as her eyes met yours. She leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, her tears falling freely now. “You’re awake. Thank God.”

Claudia was less composed, leaning over you to wrap her arms around you as carefully as she could. “Don’t ever scare us like that again,” she sobbed, her face buried in your shoulder. “I thought we were going to lose you.”

Your throat was sore, your body weak, but you managed a small, reassuring smile. “I’m okay,” you croaked, your voice hoarse but steady enough to make their tears turn into soft, relieved laughter.

Patri wiped her eyes, her other hand brushing a stray hair from your face.

Claudia continued to grip on your hand tightly. “We’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe, amor. You scared us so much, but we’re here. We’ll always be here.”

The three of you sat there, hands intertwined, hearts still racing but you knew they would always take care of you.

~~~

Please send in requests for these three (or another throuple)

[biancadoes1]

hi! it’s the first time i write here but i’ve been following and reading for a while now. i’m on the nicluke/lukola ship since may and always will be, i think that what we saw was real and sooner or later they will realise it too

BUT

i struggle to agree with the various theories that come out day after day. looking at the facts, it is more logical for me to believe that they are both with other people at the moment and i accept it for what it is.

why would N pretend to be with JD? why would A post the same restaurant as L if she wasn’t really there?

i just don’t think that these theories make sense while some people choose to believe them because they fit their narrative

Well, anon, the theories you have are also fitting the narrative you, a large amount of shippers, and the media have going, which is Luke and Nicola are both with other people.

We all have a narrative that makes sense to us, but the people believing a narrative because it sounds good, rather than makes total sense, are the people who spiral the quickest and the hardest because they haven’t wrapped their minds around what they’ve seen.

If you believe they are with other people and that what we’ve been shown by OTHER people and NOT Nicola and Luke then that’s fine. We can respect that.

However, I’m disagreeing with you heavily but respectfully. I believe they are (and have been for a good amount of time) together based off what we have seen, what’s been shown, and what keeps happening. Patterns have led me to what I believe.

I’m choosing to not listen to what other people are pushing on me. I’m choosing to pay attention to what is being said non-verbally by the two people all this shit is surrounding, which is quite a bit if you take the time to understand.

Unfortunately, many people are stuck with their personal feelings coloring the situation rather than the facts that we know of.

[life-love-geekculture]

Okay, let’s talk Lucanis’s mind prison (Warning: Spoilers):

I honestly haven’t seen much discourse yet on how the “prison guards” reflect aspects of our favorite assassin’s personality. So, I figured I throw my two cents into the ring.

Let’s start with Caterina. Honestly, the most surface level of our four candidates, especially with Spite spelling it out for us. Caterina is Lucanis’ fear. Specifically, his fear of failing. Failing and disappointing Caterina. Failing the expectations set for him and by him. Failing Rook. Not killing Ghiln’nain at Weisshaupt was the cherry on top of an absolute shit sunday of what Lucanis would see as a year’s worth of failure. He’s been captured, tortured, and turned into an abomination by the very people he’s supposed to put the fear of the Maker into. It all just confirms those secret fears of not being good enough he’s been carrying for most of his life. And now he’s being confronted with a similar situation but with stakes on a personal level. Either decision he makes, he (at this point) loses.

Next up, Harding. Harding is his fear of Spite. Of what he could become, and who he could hurt, if he ever loses a modicum of control over the demon. It’s no accident Harding’s is the face he summons to project this. She might be the most sympathetic to his plight and still be willing to kill him if he ever loses control. Harding tells him in the real world that she would know it wouldn’t be his fault, but she wouldn’t let him hurt their friends. And Lucanis encourages her with this! Harding also seems to be the only other person besides Rook to ask if he would like a different room and to show concern with his isolating patterns. The fact she cares in spite of her fear (which he shares) makes her a perfect representative. Because he might literally kill himself then risk hurting her.

Neve. Ah Neve, a potential love interest or Lucanis’s best friend if you romance him as Rook. By this point in the quest, Rook has bulldozed their way past Lucanis’s fears and insecurities. Now it’s time to lash out. If you listen to his & Neve’s banter with each other and in general, they are the driest pair of a-holes you will ever meet. It’s great! So, naturally, when it comes to throwing that cynicism and sarcasm up like a freaking shield, Neve is who he thinks about. I also love the insight this section gives into how Lucanis groups people in his head (family, enemy, and contract). That’s not Spite. Spite, we’ve seen, tends to build the framework of his interactions from his host. That is all Lucanis, baby! We also get a little more insight into how Lucanis views Neve herself. I like to think Spite’s description is kind of the gut instinct, first impression our boy had meeting Neve in the Ossuary or later at the Lighthouse. On paper, she’s a Tevinter mage like the ones who held him for a year. His head knows she’s not the same, but I’ll bet she set off all his defensive instincts and now there’s guilt associated with that. Because he likes Neve. He gets along with Neve. He really needs to teach Neve how to appreciate coffee. But he can’t shake how he felt first meeting her and, like everything else, he carries it with him.

Fucking Illario. It tracks that Lucanis at his most self-hating would dredge up this dumbass. This is the crux of his current dilemma. He loves his cousin. They’re the last person the other & Caterina has. But if he’s going to do this the Crow way, Illario has to die & Caterina will likely fall in the crossfire. Or, worse, she will never forgive him. It is the surest confirmation he is the monster everyone thinks he is. After all, only an abomination would kill all the family he has left. And because it’s Lucanis and it’s Rook, who just keeps sidestepping every excuse he can come up with, his last card is to show the monster behind the man. To show Rook the demon of Vyrantium.

In case you couldn’t tell, I love this mission!

[crowleysgirl56]

@onceuponapuffin I actually do think he’s never properly been hugged. It’s not something I see the other angels doing. Maybe he’s been hugged before by humans in the past?* But we’ve never actually seen it until this point, which might go ways to explaining why he’s so awkward (though really that probably has to do with the fact that Gabriel is the one hugging him. He’s freaking out because his former boss who tried to kill him is now embracing him and his brain can’t catch up to what the hell is going on).

Personally I think both Aziraphale and Crowley are absolutely touch starved. Which is why I want them to do loads of hugging in the finale.

*ALSO, this has given me an excellent idea for a short story on Aziraphale being hugged for the first time, and it being by a human. Maybe child or a child’s parent or something. And he should be really struck by the act. Runs off to plot.

Something that I’ve noticed, and I don’t know what it means. But did anyone else notice how Aziraphale’s (present day) opening scene in season 2 involves him being embraced and he has no idea what to do with his hands:

…which is then mirrored by his (almost) last scene where he is being embraced and he doesn’t know what to do with his hands:

WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?!

I mean, in the last scene Aziraphale does grab onto Crowley for a brief moment (and I’ve written more about why that may be here). But just putting these two scenes side by side is making me wonder what deeper meaning there could be.

Would love to hear your thoughts on the matter! What does everyone else think this means?

[kybercrystals94]

✨333 CELEBRATE!! ✨

Okay my prompt idea is “type 2 fun”

“Type 2 fun occurs when a task is difficult at the time, but feels rewarding afterward, often because it challenges the practitioner to test their limits and grow.”

Thank you so much!!

This prompt was such a fun challenge, and I actually thought of several “type 2 fun” scenarios, but I decided to go with the sweet one ;-;

I hope you enjoy it!

Worth It

Read here on Ao3!

Rated: G | Words: 333

“I don’t understand the point of this,” Tech says. “We were not required to leave our campsite location until daybreak.” 

Hunter turns to look back at his brothers trudging behind him, eerily green in the lens of his training helmet’s night vision setting. “It’ll be worth it.” 

“It better be,” Crosshair grumbles from the back of the line. 

Hunter actually doesn’t know if this trek will be worth it. After all, he only heard about the “surprise”, as he was calling it, by eavesdropping on a couple trainers that were in the hangar when they were loading up for their off-world exercise. 

“You woke me up in the middle of a good dream too,” Wrecker whines. 

Crosshair sighs. “Please don’t tell us about it.” 

“Why not? It’s not like we’ve got anything better to do hiking in the dark.” 

“Because your dreams are kriffing ridiculous!” 

“I agree with Crosshair. I do not believe that your subconscious mind conjures up even twenty percent of the details you tell us.” 

“Well, I gotta fill in the gaps, otherwise the dream wouldn’t make any sense at all!” 

Hunter thought that the hardest part of this whole thing would be getting his brothers to wake up and pack their camp before their scheduled departure time; but now, he is starting to wonder if the hike will actually be their undoing. If they don’t make it to the crest in time, it will all be for nothing. 

“Focus up, we’re almost there!” Hunter calls out. 

“You told us that twenty minutes ago,” Tech protests. 

“And we’re twenty minutes closer.” 

It is another ten minutes of hiking and bickering later that the squad of defective clones reach their destination. 

“Have a seat, boys,” Hunter says. 

“For what purpose?” Tech asks. 

“You’ll see.” 

Hunter takes off his helmet as the first swatches of sunrise colors paint the dusky sky, and his brothers do the same. Hunter doesn’t think he’s ever seen something so beautiful. The trainers hadn’t exaggerated at all. 

END

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[saras-almanac]

So I wrote this post the other day about my feelings on the handling of the BuckTommy breakup (which you can read here if you want). And @parrishjeanna reblogged with a link to an article from Tim. I wrote out a reply to it but it became so long I needed to put it in a separate post because it’s over 3k and I need to put it until a readmore.

Okay so I did read that article thank you @kawaiifacesong for linking the not generating revenue clicks because I don’t like reading any articles for 9-1-1 because it’s literally all buddies who can’t ask anything about the show. (Case in point, in this particular interview, the interviewer brings up “The Couch Theory” because Buck and Eddie sit on a couch.)

So this interview was trash for many reasons but I’ll narrow it down to three for the sake of this response: Biphobic nature of the breakup and aftermath, what’s being said in interviews isn’t what we’re seeing, and Tim writes as he goes so there’s no actual plan going forward.

First: The Biphobic Nature of this breakup is still moving full swing.

The idea that Buck is “still figuring himself out” and needs to explore is insulting in so many ways—especially to myself as a bisexual lady in my 30s. Firstly, being in my 30s, the idea that you need to figure yourself out still is absolute bullshit. Yes, you can still find new things out about yourself and make some changes, but usually by this point in your life, you have a pretty decent handle on who you are as a person. Which Buck does have… and we’ve seen that? So it has to be a reference to his newly discovered and realized sexuality.

Which, AGAIN is so biphobic and plays into incredibly harmful bisexual stereotypes that bisexuals need to “explore” to figure out what or who they want. This means either they need to fuck around and make sure they’re really bisexual. OR they need to get enough experience with their same gender to then be able to have a same-gendered relationship. Both of which are insulting and harmful. This idea that Tommy couldn’t possibly be a lasting relationship because Buck just came out as bisexual is wrong. It’s fine if they didn’t want Tommy to be a long-term love interest or even an end-game love interest, but why couldn’t they have done it differently, to hopefully not play into these harmful stereotypes that are still incredibly prevalent today.

Now do I think they fully intended it to play out as biphobic as it is? Not really, but I do think that the heart of what they wanted—Buck exploring his sexuality—is inherently biphobic because of the way they have chosen to go about it. There’s a world of difference between having Tommy break up with Buck so Buck can go exploring and having OS and TM saying similar things in interviews and Tommy and Buck breaking up and Buck getting back out there and dating around. Which if they had given it just a smidge of thought, I have to hope they would have come to that same conclusion and maybe gone about it in a different way.

Second: What Tim’s saying in interviews about what’s happening on the show and in these storylines doesn’t match up to what we’re seeing

I’m going to paste the few paragraphs related to BuckTommy break up here, just to read. I have bolded what I thought was important and what I’m going to talk about after it.

“Look, I think the breakup was premature, but that was by design. For me, the story that I was trying to tell was here’s a guy, Tommy. He’s not a main character on the show. We haven’t done ‘Tommy Begins’ or something. But you do see him in the ‘Begins’ episodes, in flashbacks, and by the time he leaves in ‘Bobby Begins Again,’ he’s turned over a new leaf. He’s feeling more comfortable. He’s hanging out with the new people at the 118 once Bobby takes over, and they throw him a party and bake him a cake when he goes off to his new post. There was even a reference in Broken when Chimney calls him to do the water drop,” Minear explained. “But Tommy’s a guy who’s in a different place in his life than Buck is. And I think what Tommy realizes is exactly what he said, which is, ‘I’m not your last. I’m your first.'” Minear referenced the coffee shop scene in Season 7, where Buck asked Tommy to give them another shot and come to his sister’s wedding, as a point when Tommy thought, “Alright, this guy’s kind of great. He’s super hot and he’s sweet. And this will be nice. And I’m going to be vulnerable for this.” As the relationship grew stronger and the stakes grew higher, however, Tommy reevaluated things. “I think Tommy, in the end, understood that this was not forever — that Buck is exploring himself. He’s still figuring himself out. And even if Tommy doesn’t know it, he might sense the fact that Buck likes to jump in with both feet a little bit precipitously,” Minear mused. “So was the breakup premature? Yes. Because Tommy was put in a position where he had to be honest. And once he speaks the truth, which is, ‘I think I know where this ends, and I can’t move in with you,’ he’s kind of breaking the spell — the spell of that honeymoon. Tommy even says, ‘I didn’t see this coming either.’ I don’t think either one of them did.”

Okay, lots of things happening in this quote but ultimately there’s a massive disconnect in what TM thinks is happening or what he’s saying is happening and what is actually on screen—and that’s a huge problem. You can’t rely on interviews to explain things, it needs to be in the actual text of the episode.

I think the real crux of the issue is this: “Tommy’s a guy who’s in a different place in his life than Buck is… Tommy, in the end, understood that this was not forever… he’s kind of breaking the spell—the spell of that honeymoon.”

Let’s break this down a bit. Tommy being in a different place in his life than Buck… How? Buck has, since the pilot episode, been looking and searching for a stable romantic relationship—he’s always craved that and wanted that. Even in the breakup, he was thinking about their future and marriage and moving in with Tommy. Is that not what the next logical step of a relationship might be? So doesn’t that—regardless of whether it was premature or not—prove that Buck and Tommy are in the same place of clearly wanting a long-term, committed relationship? So if this wasn’t the case, why didn’t you show that? Show them having that disconnect or make it clear that Tommy’s dropping hints about their future and Buck is not in the same place so he’s not picking up on them at all. Because what we saw was Buck wanting and seeing a future with Tommy and Tommy basically telling him that the doesn’t actually.  

“Tommy, in the end, understood that this was not forever — that Buck is exploring himself. He’s still figuring himself out.” This is my villain origin point—for real. Because this is also not what we saw! What we saw, was a Buck who was so secure in himself and his relationship, arguably for the first time on this show, that he didn’t panic or second-guess anything really. He was all-in with Tommy and enjoying himself and being with Tommy. He even said that being with Tommy makes him more comfortable with himself—aka what a lot of couples say when they’re in committed and reciprocal, healthy romantic relationships—that being with you makes me happy being me. (Paraphrasing here, but hopefully my point gets across.)

Because what is there for Buck to figure out yet? He knows he’s bisexual and incredibly into Tommy. He’s happy and content with his work life and seems pretty happy with where he’s living. His relationships with his friends and family are all as good as they usually are. So what is there for Buck to still figure out? I’m left to assume that this is again only about his sexuality, which just keeps adding more to the pile of shit that makes me feel crappy and uncomfortable with this storyline.

Also, why couldn’t Buck and Tommy last? Why is that assumed to be the correct conclusion to come to? How many high school sweethearts get together and last? How many people who don’t date until they’re in their 20s-30s find someone right away and stay together? How many people come out as queer later in life because they have found someone they click with and it just makes them see more of themselves and they stay together? Sure, this is not the case with every single person in these situations, but it’s not unheard of. To me, this just feels like the show and Tim are acting like Buck is a young, 20-year-old child and now a grown man in his 30s…

What we actually saw on our screens, was two people who genuinely seemed to enjoy each other and spending time together. That had an easy and sweet relationship, where they both felt settled and comfortable together. It’s why the weird change in 806 felt so abrupt—what do you mean these two people who had amazing communication up until that point, have not talked about their past relationships at all? I think that was done as a shortcut for the writers and TM to say, “Look, see, they’re not compatible, they can’t last because they’re not talking about anything serious.” But again, my point is: then you should have showed us that beforehand, given some foreshadow or lead up to it. Instead, they chose to blindside the audience for the “shock value” and it didn’t work. Shock value for shock value’s sake never works for the audience. They don’t want the rug to be pulled out from under them, they want to see you building something and only after it’s built can they see what you were doing the whole time.

Now, I understand that they just wanted to break them up for “story” reasons (which I have no faith is going to be anything good). While I personally hate that because I feel like there would have been much more storylines and things for Buck to be involved in and it would have opened up a lot more potential stories for the future, I get that it’s not my decision to make. But why couldn’t they actually make this make sense in the actual context of what we’d seen already? If you wanted to break them up because they’re in different places, then having Buck ask Tommy to move in could have caused more of an argument of Tommy saying that Buck doesn’t really see him and doesn’t seem to understand that Tommy has a whole life outside of Buck. O Tommy could have been the one to propose moving in together and Buck freaks out because it’s too soon—which leaves Tommy to come to the conclusion that they want different things right now and he can’t just sit around and hoping Buck will catch up because it would be too hard for him to let go of Buck later. Or have Tommy literally going to a different place—whether temporarily or permanently—and so they have to break up because Buck has a whole life here and Tommy wasn’t about to ask Buck to uproot himself for Tommy…

There’s so many other ways this breakup could have gone instead of the route they went—and they would have made much more sense contextually. Instead, they went this cheapest way possible and have Buck now acting like a child about calling Tommy, when in reality and with the growth we’d seen of Buck in the past 8 years, he would have reached out to Tommy already. At least to talk things through. The baking thing was cute for an episode and it would have been okay for longer, but I’m just sitting here wondering exactly why Buck can’t call Tommy… If it’s because he’s hurt, then they needed to say that because right now, it just seems like Buck is literally being forced to not call him but the audience isn’t really sure why.

All this brings me to my biggest point. Third: I don’t trust anything that’s being said in interviews or by TM because he doesn’t write in advance and that’s a major problem

Before we get into it let me make a disclaimer: I’m gonna need every single network and studio to start requiring all the white men who write for them to actually be getting them scripts. We cannot rely on their “genius” to make sense because these scripts—especially season 8—should have had a few more passes before what we’ve seen. The only episode so far that actually felt like a complete episode was the Halloween episode.

And if this season has taught us anything, it’s that Tim not having any real plans or anything written is actually a massive problem for this show.

Now me not believing TM is not me saying that I 100% believe Tommy is coming back (though I feel like the chances are higher now with the reaction from the GA for ABC to suggest some things or at least give a closure beat to this character and relationship) This is more, nothing that TM has said in interviews up until this point for season 8 has really actually happened on screen except for Eddie shaving his moustache… Granted, I don’t read every single article with him so I might have missed something, but I just feel like he’s got no interest in setting anything up and actually paying it off in any real way.

So many people were so excited for season 8 because it was the first season in years where we actually knew so many storylines going into 8—that weren’t told to us in interviews; they were introduced in the actual show! We had Bobby/Athena’s house hunting, HenRen fighting Ortiz and trying to get Mara back, Madney fostering Mara in HenRen’s place, Eddie dealing with Christopher leaving, and Gerrard back at the 118. Any one of those storylines would have been so amazing to really see explored and fleshed out. Instead, everything was basically settled and done by episode 4—apart from Christopher and Eddie resolution and Bobby/Athena actually moving in / building. To me, as a writer myself, that decision to rush though those other stories was a massive massive misstep. There was so much there to explore and delve into that could have been so satisfying to watch and really reap the emotional payoff.

Instead, we had like 2-4 minutes max of processing HenRen not being able to see Mara again before they were all reunited. Not that I wanted to see HenRen struggling again in this way, but it would have been different and they could have put some humor into it with Karen suggesting they tail Ortiz and try to find things out about her—or Hen comes back from a shift to find Karen has stayed up for 38 hours tracking every single facebook post from Ortiz and her family to try and find something they could use and she’s the one who uncovered the link between Ortiz and Gerrard, which then promts Hen to ask Buck as Gerrard’s specialist boy to ask for a favor or try to convince Gerrard to help them deal with Ortiz.

And Maddie and Chimney having Mara would have been so interesting to see them actually having conversations about what they want for their family going forward—do they want more kids, do they not? Are they wanting to try naturally or adoption? And then Mara being with Chimeny could have also added another layer of tension between Hen and Chimney with Hen being jealous that Chimney is raising her daughter.

I mean Eddie… the fact that it took 8 episodes (basically) for him to actually acknowledge that he needs to do something to be a part of his son’s life is a major problem as well. It makes me not want to root for Eddie to reconcile with Chris because he has shown hardly any initiative in actually confronting what he did and the actual reason why Chris is so upset and feels betrayed. There was a little in 6, but that’s sort of it.

Bobby and Athena, they just don’t seem to know what to do with them anymore. And that’s a shame because there are so many things they could do—namely my favorite thing which is give them more comedy to do! They are so funny together (cruise ship is one of my favorite things). Or they could have had the first few episodes be them sort of couch surfing through the firefam and be a fun little runner of “we really need to figure out what we’re doing.” Even their storyline of their house burning just doesn’t seem to be a thing anymore.

Buck, it would have been so amazing to see him dealing with the work stuff more and having Tommy to lean on, to see Buck who’s been pretty secure in his work for the past few seasons now dealing with Bobby being gone and Gerrard there, just really gets him thinking about the future. Or even the comment about budget cuts, why was that never brought up again? That would have been so interesting to lead up to the midseason finale, which of the 118 is going to get laid off? And Buck being in such a secure spot maybe he volunteers because he wants to explore something outside of firefighting and/or because everyone else has kids and a family and he knows it’s easier for him to not have a job? And then he’s saying his goodbyes and the midseason act out is Bobby announcing that Eddie is going to be leaving them instead.

Instead of really exploring any of that, it’s all been rushed through to move on to the next thing, but the honest truth is: I don’t trust what TM’s great next thing is because he absolutely squandered all the potential he had going into season 8. So all these “amazing things” he has going forward I just don’t trust they’re going to happen or even be slightly interesting. Instead, I assume they’re going to be something that’s like an episode opening and then never mentioned again if they do happen.

I just don’t understand what is going on in his head other than ego right now and I’m just… I deal with too many egos in my life to deal with another one like this.

[oswhys]

So, when I played Lucanis’s questline for the first time, I genuinely thought that Illario was going to turn out to also be possessed. I like to try to come up with theories if there's some kind of mystery involved. Obviously, Illario is suspicious from the get-go but if you want to give him the benefit of the doubt you can, after all, grief really does make people act strangely, but not usually immediately after the death. But when he shows up after the defeat of Zara and kills her just as she says “Amatus” upon seeing him there's no doubt he was in cahoots with her. But then something interesting happens, he uses blood magic, some enchanted pin. He still keeps up the act of innocence though. We get further confirmation during the questioning of Zara’s corpse that the two were extremely close, at least from her perspective. But then we get a strange little tidbit from the memories of Lucanis later in his quest line when you're with spite. Lucanis has a memory or maybe it's some warped memory of Zara talking about the cultivation of an Envy demon. 

Zara’s project was to cultivate and bind different types of demons more easily through new techniques. Zara was talented enough to be able to put a demon inside of a non-mage subject, something that shouldn't be possible in the first place, or at least unheard of. She also wanted to cultivate certain types of demons, ones that are more rare and possibly harder to bind. We see the results of most of her test subjects, either walking corpses or bound demons. Let's say she agrees to take Lucanis to be a test subject, thinking the whole thing would just kill him and the terms of her deal with Illario would be met. Let's say shes surprised Lucanis is even able to merge with spite, let alone survive well afterward. Now let's say this gets her thinking, can she replicate this? Can she put demons and spirits into non-mages? Was this a freak accident?

I know I’m speculating a lot here but hang with me. Now I don't know if her scheme is to take advantage of Illarios jealousy and use it to create an envy demon, something rare and hard to bind, but it would naturally be attracted to that much envy in a person. Or maybe it's presented as an opportunity later down the line, that Illario could become an abomination and gain as much power as one, being able to tap into magic even if not in full control would still give him an edge. I don't know, I just think there was a bit more to the story that we don't know about, aside from what we’ve seen in some of the concept art. Which shows something akin to Illario being manipulated by either Zara or some kind of desire demon or??? Just someone in a pool of blood, with horns? But pieces of these ideas got left behind in the game. Fragments of something larger and it drives me up the wall. 

There's an obvious romantic connection between Illario and Zara that is never elaborated upon in conversation, It is a deeply interesting tidbit of information and nothing is done with it. Then there's Zara’s line in Lucanis’ memories of her saying that the conditions of cultivating an envy demon must be perfect (the line that sent me through this spiral). And then there is Lucanis’ log book. His 5th one if you don't save Treviso shares a reading list of books and he writes some notes with his thoughts about each. He says that Spite “trusts nothing to do with envy demons” which to be fair to spite, is reasonable they're… creepy, and envy as an emotion is a huge liar sometimes. 

There's just something there. Obviously, the story got cut up and changed with time but there was a time when I started to think that the reason Illario is so suspicious is that he's a red herring, or he's a patsy, or not in control of himself or being manipulated or SOMETHING. But no he's just… kinda stupid. He locked up his grandmother and kept her alive? IS HE STUPID?

Anyway, I just like the idea of some grander conspiracy or grander narrative and that maybe Illario wasn't all to blame for everything or that he was, and he was actually even more villainous. Being controlled by his own jealousy to the point of madness blah blah blah you see why I’m thinking about this so much now yeah?

[butchpeace]

hi there! thank you so much for you're response to my anon ask- i was honestly expecting you to mock me and then tell me im in a cult and am bringing down other women- which is the response i usually get when trying to ask radfem blogs things- i understand why they would say this but i am asking questions genuinely. I've looked through the medical articles linked in your page, I'll be honest it is concerning but currently I am enjoying the physical and mental changes on testosterone and dont want that to stop- obviously while paying attention to my body and working with my doctor if any issues occur. i think i'll talk about doses with my doctor to understand what options i have when i want to taper off or vaguely slow down, i hope my approach to medical transition isnt seen as aggravating or flippant this is just my general philosophy about things :) i dont know i kinda feel like crying this is kinda the first radfem space i have felt safe in?

i enjoy having a deep voice- being hairy, being flat chested and these are all things women can do-- i feel that my decisions to get a mastectomy and be on hormones to achieve this shouldnt be used to kick me out of butch spaces but maybe im just being naive 🤷

A lot of radfems have that knee jerk reaction to trans identified women. Those are the kinds of people who pushed me away from radical feminism before I transitioned, so I know how that feels!

There aren’t a lot of people who both identify with radical feminism and also have the empathy and understanding needed to help us work through our gender issues. My goal is to be the person I needed back then.

My viewpoint is that people have a wide variety of different feelings about their gender, but at its core it all comes down to the same thing: The inability to accept our bodies as they are.

That’s something butch women particularly have been dealing with for a very long time. Of course butches want to be more masculine. Why wouldn’t we? We live in a patriarchy, and physical masculinity and androgyny is considered attractive in butches.

But my opinion is that accepting our bodies as they are should be the ultimate goal, and that messing with our hormonal systems and having cosmetic surgeries is objectively a negative thing. Not just because of health risks, but also because it’s a way of rejecting femaleness. I believe that all forms of rejecting the female aspects of our bodies come from misogyny. Because of that, giving in to the pressure to change our bodies isn’t a positive thing in the big picture, even if it makes us feel subjectively better about ourselves.

But I feel that way about all cosmetic surgery, including botox and all the other things women do to alter themselves. I don’t think that the way we’ve altered ourselves is any different from what they’re doing. I’m against all of it, but I don’t see us as the problem, I see patriarchy as the problem.

Whether radfems agree with it or not, the fact is that many butch women have taken hormones and have had mastectomies, and we are still women. Testosterone and mastectomies are so widespread among butch women these days that it’s kinda just part of who we are at this point. That doesn’t mean it’s a good thing or that it should be encouraged, and people have the right to criticize it. But we should be accepted.

Our appearances are altered but that doesn’t change who we are, and it doesn’t change the fact that we need community and a sense of belonging.

[dzyntara]

I’m already working on a drawing inspired by this idea, but I’m wondering… what was Cinder like before he shattered the goodness in himself? We’ve seen Jay before he put on the Wolf Mask - we’ve seen Garmadon before Harumi brought back only the worst parts of himself. We know they were like totally different people (Nya says this exact thing) but we don’t know what Cinder might have been like.

We have a few scenes of him during his first few uses of Shatterspin, before he really starts losing everything other than the worst parts of himself. We see doubt and uncertainty in Cloud Kingdom, and a petty rivalry with Jordana over Ras’ favour. Maybe that’s something? Maybe Cinder wanted recognition - to feel important?

But then as he uses it more and more, we only see nastiness. He’s a bully, he likes being violent and cruel. He lies and he cheats and enjoys the power boost that comes from the Wolf Mask corruption.

We just don’t know what kind of person he might have been before. It also makes us wonder what effects that one use might have on Jay now that he’s vanished again - and Nya directly expresses concerns about this too. Even one use turned amnesiac Jay from kinda smug snd determined to downright cruel and hateful.

But CINDER THOUGH… He’s used the mask quite a few times by now, and he loves it. Is it the addictiveness of easy, accessible power? Why did he choose the ease of Shatterspin over the hard work and discipline of other techniques? Does he feel goodness holds him back from something? Has he completely lost sight of why he put it on in the first place? WHY did he put it on in the first place?

And yet after all the shattering he remains loyal to Ras. What qualities of “goodness” does the mask remove? Is shattering your goodness deceptive??? Does it instead enhance your worst qualities rather than erasing your best ones?

I NEED ANSWERS. I KEEP THINKING ABOUT HIM. THERE’S SO MUCH WE DON’T KNOW ABOUT THE BITCHY CHILD YEETER. He fascinates me. Who are you smokeboy

[lemotmo]

911 8x08 thoughts and freak outs!

Okay…

Well…

WOW…

OMG!!!

What do I say about this episode? 😶

Uhm…

Well, my first reaction was this: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH! 🤣🤣🤣

And I mean this in a very good way! 😏

I’m just going to start with the thing that made me go AAAAAH! In the first place:

Eddie and Chris! That scene was heartbreaking and when Brad talked to ‘Edmundo’ about his estranged son it was a great moment. Eddie has started to realise he has to act NOW, because he son is growing up without him and he doesn’t want that gap to become any wider. 😭

Side-note: Fuck the Diaz parents big time! They suck! 😠

So Eddie decides to move to Texas, which is so very much the wrong thing to do. But I get why he’s considering it. The right thing to do for him would be to go to Texas, talk to Chris and telling him he needs to come home, back to LA. But I don’t think Eddie is ready for that yet. He’ll need some time to get there, but he’ll get there in the end.

Which leads me to that one scene with Buck. And OMG! In the seven years that I’ve been here, shipping Buddie, I’ve seen a lot scenes between them that suggested something more, but it was never really anything concrete… you know? 🤷‍♀️

This scene? It was like being hit over the head with a sledgehammer. Buck just walks into Eddie’s house and Eddie’s okay with that. He’s teasing him about the tablet and Eddie lets him. They know each other through and through. And Buck’s face when Eddie told him it was in El Paso? That was interesting. And of course he wants to help Eddie. It almost feels like they’re buying a house together for a moment there. But then…

Then when Buck’s sitting on the Diaz couch (yes… hello couch theory, great to see you again! 😂), his face falls and there is something there that wasn’t there before. Guys… we just witnessed the very early beginnings of Buck’s ‘OH’ moment. Eddie making plans to move will help Buck realise just how much he truly cares for Eddie. 🥲🥲🥲

So, this is it. This is THAT scene we’ve all been hoping for.

I feel unwell.

In a good way.

The Buddie-arc has officially begun. 😋🌈😁☀️

So unwell right now.

Still in a good way.

But oh… this is going to be such a good hiatus! That scene alone will inspire so many writers to write excellent fic, it will fuel us for months and ignite the fandom to speculate and theorise. It’ll be epic! 😎

I wonder if there’ll actually be a time-jump or they’ll just pick up where they left off after hiatus. 🤔

On to the rest of the episode:

Where was the Maddie storyline they talked about?

Athena’s storyline was actually nice this time. It is entirely possible that something flew over my head when it comes to her scenes as a police officer. But to my non-American eyes, it was a nice storyline. The cart cop kid was a little naive, but he was likeable I suppose. I don’t really enjoy watching people like that on YouTube, but for the show it was okay.

I unexpectedly really enjoyed the Brad storyline. Granted, him rescuing that woman and risking hurting her? That was iffy, but 911 is like HotShots in that respect, you know? We aren’t supposed to take it all ‘that’ seriously. So I can live with that scene. I love the growth in Brad and how he talked that guy from the ledge. Do we think that scene was based on the fact that Jon Bon Jovi talked someone from the ledge a couple of months ago? I think that’s where Tim got his inspiration for this.

So overall, I really enjoyed this episode and I have to admit that I didn’t really expect too much of it. But it managed to surprise me in a few ways. But mostly that Buddie-moment… it just blew my mind. 🤯

I can happily skip into hiatus now. All is right with my fictional TV-show world again.

😎😎😎

I'm off to read the post interviews now and answer some asks in my inbox. YAY!

[storiesfromafan]

My Girl - Benny Cross x Reader

A/N: I know this is a slow series, but hopefully it's not too bad 😅

(Also, posting this from my phone, might have to fix this up later 😅😅)

Previous: Part One, Part Two, Part Three

I’ve got sunshine, on a cloudy day

When it’s cold outside, I’ve got the month of May (ooh)

I guess you’d say

What can make me feel this way?

My girl, my girl, my girl

Talkin’ ‘bout my girl, my girl

- My Girl by The Temptations

It had been a week since Benny spoke to you. And it was all he could think about. Sure, he’d seen you around the town, mostly at the grocery shop or the diner, in passing. But it wasn’t enough. He’d gotten a taste of your sweet voice. Seeing you up close; the colour of your eyes, which had specs of (colour) to them. How your hair was (colour) but when the light hits it, it looked (colour). How your cheeks go a rosy colour when you were shy or embarrassed. Benny wanted to experience it all so much more.

Cal waved his hand in front of Benny's face, snapping the young Vandal from his thoughts of you. That’s right, he was currently playing a game of pool with the man laughing at him. While waiting for his shot, it looks like Benny had zoned out again. Holding the cue against his body, Benny shot Cal and those around him an embarrassed smile. Which only made them laugh.

“Sorry" he muttered, moving with his cue to the pool table and looking over his options. Before finally lining up his shot and taking it, sinking the four ball.

Johnny was sitting near by on a stool, nursing his beer. “Ya alright kid? Ain’t like ya to be off with the fairies".

Before Benny could say a word, Cal beat him to the punch. “Yeah, he’s alright. Just found himself a girl".

Johnny raised his eyebrows in surprise, this was the first time he’d heard about there being a girl. “Is that right, huh?”

Another man – one from the diner incidents – laughed before speaking up, “yeah! She’s a shy, little thing. Some of the guys were makin' fun of her, but Benny stepped in and told them to ‘knock it off’”.

Johnny nodded, listening to the man’s words. Benny stood back from the pool table – his turnover – as he listened to them, embarrassed by the retelling of the diner. But it was true. He stepped in and defended you. And he would do it again for you if needed him too.

Sliding off his stool, Johnny down the rest of his beer before walking past Benny. He chuckled, patting him on the back. “Well, ya'll have to bring her around sometime. Would be nice to meet the girl that’s got ya by the balls".

Johnny then walked off to speak with a few other guys. Cal and the guys around Benny laughed at their leaders' words. They even jostled Benny and shared their own comments, which he wasn’t too fond of. But Benny knew he’d have to bring you to the bar. It would be a shock for you, but he knew you could handle it. Plus he’d be there with you, making sure nothing happened to you.

“Alright, spill!” Fran demanded, as she and Sandra sat across from you in a booth at the diner where this all began.

“Yeah! I had to hear it from my neighbour, who heard from her hair dresser, who got the gossip from Mrs Martin about Benny coming into the grocery store! And talking to you!?” Added Sandra.

You sat on your side of the booth, wishing it would swallow you up from their intense gazes. Once more, they asked you about Benny. And to be honest, you didn’t know what it meant. He’d come in for gum, and you shared a small conversation.

Taking a sip from the milkshake before you, you sat back and cleared your throat. “Well...there’s not much to say-" you started before being interrupted.

“Oh bull!” Huffed Fran. “From what we’ve heard, it was pretty intense between you too!”

“Yeah, so don’t down play it!” Added Sandra.

You sighed. “Really! It wasn’t like that, it wasn’t that big a deal!” You took a moment to gather your thoughts. “It went like this; I was just working and stupidly singing when I was surprised to see Benny. And I was a complete bumbling idiot! He wanted to buy gum-"

“Gum?” Both women questioned.

You nodded. “Yes, gum. He then apologised for the Vandals comments" you recalled that moment a week ago. “Benny then asked for my name, which I gave him, and he said it was pretty, that it suits me...then Mrs Martin showed up, and yeah, she wasn’t pleasant to him at all".

Both women stared at you, as you went back to your milkshake. “Bull" Sandra said, leaning over the table. “That’s not the story, right?”

“Yeah, its too...clean?” Fran said confused.

You wanted to laugh at their faces, but held back. “It’s the truth".

Both women sat back against the booth, utterly confused. As they began to tell you, the way they heard it was some big drama. That Benny was harassing you when Mrs Martin stepped in. Not to mention one retelling told that you were shamelessly flirting with Benny, practically in his hands, one palm on each cheek, and not that of your face. You blushed at the notion.

“If this is what we've heard, just imagine what your parents might hear" Fran's words sobered you up.

You hadn’t even thought about your parents, and God only knows what they’ll say, or do, if they hear the gossip of Benny and you. But it being after a week and only now had your friends heard about it. So, there could be a small chance they might not hear it. So long as you stayed clear of any further gossip, you might be in the clear.

Unfortunately for you, the other half of the gossip mill didn’t know your plan. You heard the bell above the diner door jingle and heavy feet. You were talking to your friends, not even caring about your surroundings. It was only when you glanced up to look at Sandra and Fran, discussing a coming movie to your local theatre, were you confused to see their shocked faces. They looked stunned, mouths slightly agape and eyes wide. Before you could questioned them the silence at your table was disturbed by an all too familiar gruff voice.

“Hey (Y/N)”

You turned only to find Benny. Who looked just as good as the last time you’d seen him. Only this time he was wearing dirty white jeans, black t-shirt and his denim vest that sported the Vandal colours. The way he looked at you with those baby blues of his, warm and twinkling. The way his full lips turned up in a shy, slightly toothy smile.

You felt one of your friends kick your foot, snapping you from your observation of him. “H-hi Benny...”

Hearing his name from your lips, in that honeyed voice of yours, had Benny's heart skipping a beat. His smile brightened, and he slowly began to relax. Finally, he noticed your companions, which he smiled at – but not as brightly as he had you. Benny even shot them a hey. You’d have laughed at their reaction to being acknowledged by the gorgeous Vandal. But you were busy trying to wrap your head around him being here in the first place. And even then, that voice in the back of your head was telling you to be careful, you don’t need more gossip getting around town.

“Mind if I join ya?” Benny asked, looking at you, yet not even waiting for your reply before slipping in into the booth next to you, boxing you in without an escape.

All you could do was look at Benny, not doubt like a deer in headlights, while he just continued to look at you. That charming smile on his lips. Both Fran and Sandra shared a look before turning back to you and Benny. One of the women cleared their throat, which got your attention. Turning from Benny, breaking the connection between you both. From there, they made small talk, which was mostly directed at Benny. Who only gave vague or one word answers.

You found it amusing how he didn’t seem to care for their attention. Yet when you spoke, he listened attentively and spoke to you. Slowly, you relaxed and were able to drink the rest of your milkshake, all while those baby blues watched you. Fran and Sandra eventually left, as they weren’t getting any of Benny's attention. So they slinked away with their tails between their legs.

“Finally, just us" Benny sighed, placing his arm on the back of the booth. His fingers brushing your clothed back.

A small, pleasant shiver ran down your spine. Your breath catching for a moment. You imagined what it would be like if you had been wearing a sun dress. How warm he would be, how rough those pads would be against your skin.

“You alright, sweetheart?” Benny's rough voice said into your ear, his breath fanning over you from how close he was to you.

When you turned to look at him, you were surprised to see how close Benny was. Being so close, you could see how blue his eyes were, with small specs of a darker blue. They were beautiful and captivating. You could easily get lost in those blues.

“A-ah, yeah...I'm fine" you squeaked out, making Benny chuckle.

He moved back a little, a warm smile crossing his lips at your words. “Good. I wanna know, do you wanna come to a meetin’ when I get back in town?”

You blinked. “You’re leaving?”

“Just for a few days, sweetheart," he replied, drumming his hands on the booth.

“Oh...” you muttered.

Then you took a moment to think over his offer. You knew you should keep your distance, stop any chance of gossip coming back to bite you. And yet, this was the second time he’d sought you out. Coming to talk to you. You should be running away from Benny Cross, and yet you wanted to move closer to him. Maybe you could be a girl he could want.

‘You sure?’ That voice asked. Yet you did your best to ignore it.

Pushing away your thoughts and insecurities, forgetting the repercussions that could come from talking and being seen with Benny. You couldn’t deny how you liked having his attention. So, you made your bed and planned to lie in it.

“Sure Benny" you smiled.

[buddiebeginz]

I get that some of you are nervous of Eddie leaving and Buddie not happening but trust me when I tell you Ryan isn’t going anywhere. There are zero signs that he wants to leave the show.

All of the main cast seem very happy and like a family and like they want to be working together for as long as possible. They’re also working in roles that you can’t do in just any other acting job, doing these crazy emergencies regularly. You don’t just leave a work environment like that for no reason. It’s also not like Ryan can’t do other projects while working on 911, he just worked on a movie not too long ago. So no he’s not leaving.

When it comes to Buddie I think some of you have gotten so used to storylines that play out instantly on streaming you’re not used to a network slow burn where you have to wait.

I get being scared of being let down by the show. I know how much we’re all hoping and waiting for Buddie to happen. But Buddie has been in the works for years. It was originally supposed to happen in s5 (Buck was supposed to come out in s4) but Fox refused to let it happen. So Tim left and then the show moved to abc and so Tim came back. When he did he started putting the wheels in motion for Buddie canon and that started with Buck coming out in s7. Buddie going canon has already started we’ve been in the storyline since last season when Buck’s coming out was heavily connected to Eddie.

If I didn’t think Buddie was going to happen or that it was a big maybe I’d say so but in all the years of watching the show I’ve never been as certain it’s happening as I am now.

The other thing is I think there would be zero doubt right now if Buddie was a straight ship. But because they’re two guys and they’re breaking new ground with being the first real slow burn queer ship on a primetime network show people will question if it’s happening the whole way.

Tim knows how a significant portion of the audience for the show loves Buddie. Tim, Oliver, and Ryan have all shown support for Buddie over the years which btw isn’t common for non canon queer ships. A lot of things are in our favor. If Tim didn’t want to make Buddie happen he would have made that clear when he came back and it’s been the total opposite. In s7 they were together more than ever and they’ve still been joined at the hip in s8 even if hey haven’t had a ton of scenes while Tim was closing up other storylines. We can see with 808 and recent interviews that the bulk of Eddie and Buddie’s s8 storylines are going to be in 8b.

I’ve seen people say why doesn’t Eddie just go get Chris and bring him home. I believe he will eventually but this storyline with Eddie contemplating moving to Texas isn’t as much about the Chris storyline as it is about the Buddie storyline. You have to have obstacles in a will they/won’t they that makes the audience think they aren’t going to end up together. There is always lots of angst leading up to the moment when they finally get together or get back together. This makes for a more emotional dramatic moment and some of the best tv.

We’re meant to think Eddie is leaving but even if he goes to Texas for a minute it won’t be permanent. I’m confident in saying we’ll have Buddie canon by the end of the season and Chris back too.

Please don’t let fandom’s tendency to catastrophize make you worry about where the story is going. Also take all the interviews with a grain of salt because they can’t and won’t tell us exactly where things are going. Like with the most recent Tim interviews and him making it sound like Eddie is moving. That makes sense because we’re right at the beginning of that storyline he can’t say what will happen.

Things with Buddie will take a little time to play out but we’ll get there. We are going into this hiatus in the best possible place we can be in right now and we should all be incredibly excited for what’s to come for Buddie in 8b.

[magical-reid]

Caught in the Spotlight

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count: 1.6K

The meeting room at Quantico was buzzing with energy when your unit arrived. You’d been in the middle of wrapping up another case in Virginia when the call came—your specialized undercover team was being reassigned to assist the BAU on a particularly troubling case. There wasn’t much time for pleasantries before you were seated alongside the Behavioral Analysis Unit, their unit chief, Aaron Hotchner, standing at the head of the room with a case file in hand.

“This unsub has been active for the past three months,” Hotch began, flipping through the slides on the screen. “Three women have been abducted and killed, all matching the same general type: y/h/c, mid-twenties, lean build. All were last seen at the Coyote Den, a bar in Atlanta known for its high-energy performances.”

You exchanged a glance with your unit chief, Rachel Torres, noting the way she was already sizing up the details. The BAU was known for their profiles, but your team brought a different set of skills to the table—stealth, adaptability, and the ability to blend in without a trace.

“We believe the unsub is targeting women he considers perfect performers,” Dr. Spencer Reid interjected, his voice soft yet commanding attention. He gestured to a series of images on the screen: all three victims dressed in tight, eye-catching clothing, caught mid-laughter or dancing in the bar. “He appears to be watching them for several nights before striking. He’s a meticulous planner, but he also has a tendency to escalate once he selects his victim.”

Morgan leaned forward in his chair, addressing your unit. “We need someone to go undercover as a bartender. Someone who fits his type.”

Torres nodded slowly, her gaze sweeping across her team before landing on you. “Looks like we’ve got the perfect candidate.”

Your stomach flipped.

“Wait, me?” You sat up straighter, your voice coming out more defensive than you intended. “I don’t know if I’m the best choice. I usually work undercover as… someone else. Wigs, makeup, costumes. Not just… me.”

Hotch’s expression softened, but only slightly. “You match the unsub’s type almost exactly, Agent Y/L/N. It’s the fastest way to gain his attention without raising suspicion.”

Torres placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “You’ve gone undercover a dozen times before. You’re the best at what you do.”

You hesitated, looking toward the photos of the victims again. Your usual roles involved creating characters—adopting new personalities, new looks. This was different. This was you, stripped of the usual disguises, exposed in a way that felt raw and unfamiliar.

“I’ll do it,” you said finally, your voice quieter now. “But I’m going to need backup.”

“That’s where we come in,” Morgan said with a confident grin, gesturing to himself and Spencer. “We’ll be at the bar, blending in like regulars. Pretty boy here’s a pro at pretending to drink beer.”

Spencer shot him a glare, and a small, nervous laugh escaped your lips, breaking some of the tension.

Hotch handed you the case file. “We’ll keep you as safe as possible, Agent Y/L/N. But we need you to be convincing. If the unsub approaches you, it’s critical that you keep him engaged long enough for us to make a move.”

You nodded, gripping the file tightly. “Understood.”

The next day, the transformation began. The BAU arranged for you to slip into the bartender role seamlessly, arriving at the Coyote Den as the “new girl.” But first came the part you dreaded most—the wardrobe.

“Alright, Y/L/N, here’s your uniform,” Torres said, handing you a bag with a smirk.

You opened it and froze. Black leather shorts, a cropped tank top with the bar’s logo stretched across the chest, and knee-high boots with just enough heel to ensure discomfort.

“Oh, no,” you muttered, holding up the pieces like they might burn you.

Morgan’s laugh echoed across the room. “Looks like you’re about to make some serious tips.”

You shot him a glare before turning to Spencer, who had been unusually quiet. His eyes were glued to the floor, and he seemed to be making a concerted effort not to look at you or the outfit.

“I’ll survive,” you said eventually, trying to inject some humor into your tone. “It’s just clothes, right?”

The Coyote Den was alive with pulsing music and neon lights, its atmosphere thick with the scent of cheap whiskey, sweat, and the faintest hint of desperation. It was obvious that the bar was the type of place that thrived on chaos and spectacle, which made it the perfect hunting ground for the unsub who had already taken three lives.

The bar staff greeted you with a mix of curiosity and enthusiasm, quickly showing you the ropes and handing you a tray of cocktail glasses to start. The revealing outfit clung to your skin, a constant reminder of how exposed you were, but you kept your focus on the mission.

“Looking good,” Morgan teased as you slid a beer across the counter to him.

“Shut up,” you muttered, shooting him a look before turning to Spencer, who was nursing what looked like a whiskey neat.

“Are you doing okay?” Spencer asked quietly, his brow furrowed in concern.

You nodded, forcing a smile. “I’m fine. It’s just… not what I’m used to.”

“You’re doing great,” he assured you, his voice carrying a genuine warmth that helped ease some of your nerves.

The night passed in a blur of drink orders and rowdy patrons. When one of the bartenders called out that it was your turn to perform, your stomach dropped.

“Let’s see what you’ve got new girl!”

You froze for a second, your heart pounding as your coworkers and the patrons cheered, urging you to get going.

“You’ll be great,” Morgan said with a confident smirk, tilting his beer towards you, “We’ve got your back, alright? Pretty boy here and I am going to blend right in as your ‘regulars.’”

“Because nothing says regular like the two of you,” you muttered with a small, forced smile as you climb up on the bar. The heat of the spotlight was overwhelming, and for a moment, you regretted agreeing to this entire mission.

Your heart was loud in your ears as the crowd erupted into cheers. Your boots clicked against the wood as your balanced yourself. The music shifted, and you moved to the rhythm, your movements initially stiff as it wasn’t easy when you felt so exposed, but you did it anyway, twisting and swaying under the lights, loosening up with each beat. You tossed your hair and smiled, doing your best to embody the carefree energy expected of you. The crowd ate it up, cheering louder with every turn of your hips and toss of your hair.

When your eyes found Spencer in the crowd, your heart skipped. He was watching you with wide eyes, his hand frozen around his glass, his expression unreadable.

After your performance, you stepped away from the bar, claiming you needed the bathroom. The moment you entered the dimly lit hallway, you felt a presence behind you.

It was him.

The unsub’s hand was like a vice around your wrist, yanking you further into the hallway as you struggled against him. He muttered something about you being “perfect,” but the words were a blur of terror and adrenaline.

You twisted, kicked, and managed to bite his hand, earning a shout of pain that gave you just enough time to scream before he covered your mouth.

Spencer was the first to notice you’d been gone too long.

“She’s not back yet,” he said, his voice sharp with worry.

Morgan was already on his feet, scanning the bar. “Let’s move.”

Spencer’s mind worked quickly, his eyes darting around until he spotted the trail of clues: a scuff mark near the back hallway, the faintest hint of red smeared on the wall, and a door slightly ajar. He motioned for Morgan to follow, fully pushing open the door and finding the alley just in time to see the unsub dragging you toward a car.

“FBI! Let her go!” Spencer shouted, his gun drawn.

The unsub froze, giving you the opportunity to elbow him hard in the stomach. You stumbled away, running straight into Spencer’s arms as Morgan tackled the unsub to the ground.

Hours later, after the unsub was in custody and the adrenaline had faded, the two units gathered at a quieter bar to celebrate the successful operation.

“Come on, Y/N,” Torres urged, nudging you toward the makeshift stage. “One more performance for the road.”

“No way,” you said, laughing nervously.

“Oh, come one, do it for us!” Morgan added, grinning. “You’ve already got the outfit. And I think genius over here wouldn’t mind seeing an encore.” He nodded toward Spencer, whose face turned bright red.

You hesitated for a moment, then stood, the playful glint in your eyes returning. “Fine. But only because I feel like showing someone what they missed the first time.”

The music started, and as you moved to the beat, your eyes found Spencer’s. This time, your performance was deliberate—a wink here, a playful smirk there, each move designed to fluster him. By the time you finished, Spencer looked like he might combust.

When you finally sat down beside him, breathless but grinning, he cleared his throat, avoiding your gaze.

“You’re, uh…really good at that,” he managed, his voice soft.

“Thanks, genius.” You leaned closer, your lips brushing his ear as you whispered, “Maybe next time I’ll give you a private show.”

His eyes widened, and you laughed, feeling lighter than you had all day.

[robinsegghead]

Danny's Daycare Part 19

Masterlist Shortly after Danny and the boys had left everyone gathered in the cave. Those who hadn’t known about the Phantom/Danny situation were filled in so they could discuss what they’d learned that night as well as summon Phantom to tell him what they’d found. Dick was listening intently. Despite reading the files shortly before their company arrived, Dick wanted to be sure he had all the facts.

“So,” Steph frowned. “We’ve got a ghost king who’s claiming a branch of the American government called the GIW has been trying to experiment on and kill his people, a law called the Anti-Ecto-Acts which means it’s legal for them to do said experimenting and killing, and Danny who supposedly knows the ghost king and is affected by the law that makes him legal property of the government?”

Bruce nodded. “We are still trying to understand Danny’s connection to all of this and how it is that he’s affected by this law- as far as we can tell he’s entirely human. We aren’t sure how he would have come into contact with enough ectoplasm to deem him a ‘ghost’ but-”

Jason cleared his throat, effectively cutting Bruce off and silencing everyone in the cave. “I… may have left out… some details.”

“Oh no,” Tim cuts in. “Tell me you didn’t know.”

“Know what?” Bruce sighed, already clearly tired of this back and forth.

Tim crossed his arms and glared at Jason. “That Danny’s died before?”

That set everyone off. Dick himself didn’t know what to do with that information. He’d watched all night as Jason smiled at Danny, thinking no one would notice, and then he’d watched as Jason scolded the family for prying (he was right to do that they could obviously see Danny didn’t want to answer their questions) and chased after Danny when Santiago had dragged him off. They’d spent a lot of time outside before coming back in and everybody could tell something had changed. 

They were both more relaxed, stood slightly closer together, their eyes lingered on each other when they thought no one was looking, and Jason was actually laughing along with the family! It had been a long time since he’d seen little wing so happy and he wasn’t ashamed to admit; he’d gotten emotional about it. He didn’t want to think anything was up with Danny, he wanted to imagine Danny had a nice normal life, a good family, and a personality that would bring some happiness and normality to Jason’s life.

“What do you mean, Tim?” Bruce asked, cutting through all the other raised voices.

Tim pinched the bridge of his nose. “When Kon came over he- well he wanted to see if Danny was hiding anything on his person. I’d filled him in a bit about the situation and he’s heard me trying to figure out what Danny’s deal is for a while now so he used a bit of X-ray vision and that’s why he dropped the pie. ‘Cause Danny’s got an autopsy scar.”

The cave was silent, everyone that’d been looking at Tim promptly looked towards Jason, waiting for an explanation. Jason swallowed visibly. “I… didn’t know that.”

“That he died or that he had an autopsy scar? ‘Cause it sounds like he’s got a lot more scars than that, Kon was… Kon said he’s only seen scarring that bad on people like us- vigilantes.” Tim pointed out.

Jason sighed, sitting a ways away from the family- a habit he’d picked up after coming back and needed to physically distance himself from them when he got overwhelmed. Dick had always hated how far his brother kept himself from them, tucking himself away behind an immovable wall, keeping his real feelings and thoughts blocked off, for his and their protection.

But instead of remaining apart, staying at the table he’d first sat at- that they’d all avoided in order to give him space- Jason stood and moved closer, closing the circle the family had formed. “I’m friends with Danny in and out of the mask.” He started, crossing his arms to protect himself from the closeness. “He’s told Jason some things and he’s told Hood some things and I…. didn’t feel right telling you all of it.”

“We need to know everything you know about him Jay-”

“No. You don’t.” Jason says firmly. “I will tell you what I’m comfortable telling you and then we can summon Phantom. Maybe he will tell you more, maybe he won’t. Maybe if you show up at his apartment in your tall, dark, and gloomy costume he’ll tell you what you want to know- but I’m not telling you everything he told me in confidence just to satisfy your curiosity. Didn’t you learn anything from dinner tonight?”

And- yeah, that was fair. They hadn’t been as nice to Danny as they should have, and while it was obvious in hindsight that they’d backed him into a corner, Dick really had just wanted to get to know the man. Danny was an enigma. Someone who’d befriended Damian, who’d brought down Jay’s walls, who’d expressed interest in Tim and his life, Danny was a good guy. Dick wanted to know everything he could about that man.

Bruce sighed, relenting, and Jason started talking. “I don’t know about the scarring. I do know he… died a long time ago.” The room tensed, Dick tensed. “He came back different- like me. But not- not like me. He was confused when I asked about Pit rage stuff. After coming back he did the whole teenage vigilante for a while to protect his town. He gave that stuff up a while back, traveled for a while, and ended up in Gotham.”

“Do you know who asked him to come here?” Tim interjected, getting the room's attention. “He said he was here as a favor. He said a friend asked him to come to Gotham and help out and that’s why he’s here. Do you think it was Phantom?”

Jason shrugged. “Phantom said they knew each other, he’s the ghost king and Danny was an undead kid vigilante who fought ghosts to protect his town. It’s possible I guess.” 

Tim had returned to the batcomputer, typing quickly and looking for something specific. Dick noticed Jason’s hand was shaking, clinging to his bicep in an effort to stop it and keep people from noticing, but Dick saw it. He was no Bruce- certainly no Tim- but he was a good ass detective and he noticed a lot more than some people thought. Especially when it came to the emotional state of his family members.

(Call it being an empath, call it a trauma response to Bruce’s emotional constipation his whole life, whatever, Dick could read emotions in others almost as well as Cass could read body language. He couldn’t always interpret exactly what it meant, but he noticed the little things. Jason’s hands shake he’s angry- usually when he’s pit ragey.)

Clapping his hands together, Dick tried to bring the mood up a bit. “Well, should we all change and get ready to summon Phantom? Where better to get our answers than directly from the horse’s mouth?”

“And then he asked Jason on a date!” Santiago finished.

“Come onnnnn.” Miguel groaned, smacking his head against the headrest dramatically. 

Danny wasn’t sure why Miguel seemed so upset by this news or why Santiago was so happy about it but he tried not to think about it too much as he pulled the car onto their street and felt a pulling in his gut.

“I don’t know what you see in him, Danny-” Danny felt Miguel’s eyes on him as he cut off. “What’s wrong?”

Concentrating on staying where he was and getting the boys home safely, Danny began to sweat. He could refuse the summoning if he wanted, push it away entirely and get rid of the sickening tug, but he really needed to figure out what Hood had gotten done concerning the GIW. So instead of outright refusing, he delayed, speeding up the car. “‘M getting summoned.” He managed, turning another corner sharply.

“Now?!” Santi shrieked as the car took one more sharp turn into their parking lot and came to a sudden halt.

Shutting off the car and hopping out, Danny gestured for them to follow. “Come on, quickly.” The tugging in his gut was starting to hurt and he wondered why he hadn’t just given Hood his Phantom number the last time they’d spoken. Tucker made you a Phantom phone specifically for this purpose! 

Once he’d ensured the boys were in their apartment safely, he allowed his transformation and the summoning to sweep over him. Relief washed over him as he felt his body be swept away before settling into a dark cave. Looking around, he found computers, weapons, vigilante gear- was he in the Batman lair?

“It’s called the Batcave.” Hood snorted. “Hey Spooks, mind turning down the light show?”

Oh, right. Letting the bright light that appeared every summoning, Danny floated closer to the ground and took note of all the vigilantes around him. He hadn’t exactly expected… well, all of Gotham’s vigilantes to be there during his next summoning. “Anything for you, Hood.” He winked towards the crime lord, earning him a scoff from Robin. 

“King Phantom-”

“Just Phantom.” Danny cut Batman off- Ancients he interrupted Batman. “I’m not really into the whole formality thing.”

Batman dipped his head subtly. “Phantom, Hood informed us of your situation and to say I was shocked was an understatement. I have a meeting with the Justice League scheduled for tomorrow to relay everything we know and figure out a plan to repeal the Anti-Ecto-Acts as quickly as possible.”

Danny nodded slowly. “I must admit, I’m surprised at how quickly you’ve acted. Nevertheless, I and my people extend our gratitude.”

“Why wouldn’t we act quickly?” Nightwing asked.

Pursing his lips, Danny crossed his arms. “Batman is paranoid, untrusting, and hates metas in his city unless they’re Signal.” He pointed at the yellow hero lazily. “And technically? Ghosts aren’t even metas, we’re other. Different. Wrong. Wasn’t sure how you’d all feel about that.”

“Batman would never allow such crimes to continue!” Robin snarled.

Danny’s lips quirked up, he liked Robin, despite the kid's snark. It was part of the appeal really, he had strong opinions and wasn’t afraid to share them. He’d quite enjoyed sassing his rogues throughout his vigilante career.

“Robin.” Batman scolded.

Shrugging, Danny leaned back, still floating, hands behind his head. “I don’t mind, I like a kid who speaks his mind. But how would I know that? I’ve never met Batman before. I must do what’s best for my people.” He frowned, losing a bit of the lazy look and growing more serious. “Keeping them confined to the Realms is no longer the best course of action. And unfortunately, Scarecrow’s little stunt the other night has lit a fire under my ass so to speak.”

“Language.” A couple of the vigilantes chimed in, almost like it was a habit.

Danny frowned. Hadn’t he just heard that-

“Why has Scarecrow’s attack moved things up?” Spoiler asked.

How much did he want to tell these people? For now, he wanted his identity to remain a secret, too risky to reveal himself, but he wanted the GIW gone and for that he’d need to be as honest as possible. “Danny Nightingale,” he started, catching the shift in the cave’s atmosphere. “Is a… personal friend of mine. He’s been in hiding from the GIW for five years now. The attack has unfortunately… alerted the GIW and others to his location.”

“What reason does Danny Nightingale have for hiding from the GIW?” Batman asked.

Had… Had Hood really not told them? He knew Hood was a good guy, but to keep private the things Danny had shared with Hood even after everything that had happened… It warmed his cold heart. “Hood… did not tell you?”

Red Hood crossed his arms. 

“Danny died when he was fourteen.” Phantom tried for nonchalance. He hated talking about it- all ghosts did- but he didn’t want them to know he was uncomfortable. “He was brought back to life when, during his death, his body was flooded with ectoplasm. His body was killed and brought back until neither side won and he ended up half dead half alive.” He let that sink in.

“How the fuck-”

“That’s not poss-”

“Nightingale-”

“Enough.” Batman stated. Once everyone quieted down a bit, he turned to Phantom. “How is that possible?”

Phantom had touched down to the ground at this point, standing between Red Hood and Signal. He shrugged. “I don’t really know, it just is. The… electricity killed him but the ectoplasm kept him alive and afterward he remained alive and dead at the same time. Schrodinger’s boy if you will.”

“You know Shcrodinger?” Signal breathed, not really asking Phantom but more himself.

Phantom intended to answer the question, maybe with a joke or maybe just plainly, but he was stopped in his tracks by Red Robin’s next question.

“But what about his autopsy scars?” Red Robin said seemingly before he could stop himself.

Danny’s head whipped in his direction. “What?” He snarled.

Red Robin glanced at Batman, swallowed, and looked back at Phantom. “Um- a- a friend of mine- superboy, he accidentally used his X-ray vision and he… saw…” He trailed off, possibly noticing Phantom’s less than friendly air. 

He’d risen again, floating a couple inches off the ground and crossing his arms to hide the shaking in his hands. Maybe if he… if he told them… they’d understand just how bad the GIW was. The final nail in the coffin. He’d met a lot of these vigilantes before, they seemed nice enough, besides, how long did he really think he could hide the truth from them? As long as they didn’t know he was Danny, as long as Danny didn’t have to look them in the eye and pretend he didn’t know they knew, it’d be fine.

“It is not an autopsy scar.” Phantom managed to say.

Red Robin frowned. “But he said it was-”

“It is NOT an autopsy scar.” He said, pressing his eyes shut tight, voice commanding. Waiting for his rage to settle a moment, he continued. “It is a testament to how far the GIW will go to get what they want.” He looked each vigilante in the eye (sort of), waiting for it to sink in. “Autopsies happen after you’ve died. I assure you,” He inhaled sharply. “Danny was very much alive- and awake- when that happened.”

“What the fuck.” Red Robin breathed. Phantom waited, unsure of what was about to happen. Red Hood was frozen, his toxic ectoplasm signature flared as his fingers stretched for his guns.

Spoiler gasped. “That’s fucking-”

“Vivisection.” Robin finished coldly.

Everyone’s reactions were similar; anger, despair, confusion. Batman pinched the bridge of his nose, Robin lowered his katana, jaw dropped slightly, Red Robin was clearly having some kind of inner war, Signal and Spoiler looked between each other and Black Bat who had been staring at Phantom since he’d arrived, and Nightwing- was he crying? It was subtle, barely noticeable, but Danny was sure he heard a sniffle from the man’s direction.

“When-” Batman growled, clearing his throat. “When did this happen?”

Phantom considered him. Why did it matter? They couldn’t go back and make it unhappen. “Shortly before his eighteenth birthday.” That was all he needed to say. So why did he find himself continuing? Saying more than necessary? “He was discovered by some local ghost hunters, drugged, restrained, and experimented on for-” he caught his breath, hesitating only a moment, but Black Bat seemed to catch it. “For almost two months. The-”

“FUCK!” 

The group startled as something shattered across the cave. Startled, Danny turned to Hood who’d grabbed the nearest thing and thrown it across the room- hitting a glass window around what seemed to be a med bay. The man breathed heavily, his toxic ecto-signature continued to rise. 

“Hood-” Batman started.

Phantom cut him off. “Hood. Relax, Danny’s fine.” He pushed as much Safe-Protected-Healed-Calm-Relax into his words as he could and it seemed to work, the man’s shoulder untensed a bit and his hands stopped resting on his guns. Phantom could feel everyone’s eyes on him but he didn’t want Hood to feel them so he continued. “I’m not going to let anything happen to him, and if you lot do your job right, the GIW won’t be able to try anything ever again.”

It was touching that Hood was angry on Danny’s behalf, but he didn’t need it- not really. He wasn’t as naive as he’d been five years ago- wouldn’t let anyone close enough to trick him again. He’d warded the apartment he lived in heavily, no one with ecto-weapons could get inside, he’d warded it against specific people as well- Jack and Maddie, the GIW agents he knew of, Vlad, the list went on. 

“Who were the ghost hunters?” Red Robin asked, typing on the batcomputer furiously.

Danny wanted to be mad about the question (how dare he ask about them, the people who’d ruined him, who’d  taken all his trust and cradled it close to their chest with loving smiles only to crush it under their boot and cut into it and-) but it effectively took everyone’s attention away from Hood, allowing the man to calm down without anyone staring at him. Phantom closed his eyes and took a deep breath before admitting to a truth he’d run from for years. “His parents.”

~~~~~

Damian was having a good night overall. He’d invited Nightingale- well, the Nightingale’s, he supposed, over and got to spend a great deal of time with Miguel and Santiago. Santiago was a bit younger than Damian and  they didn’t have much in common, but the boy's love of animals allowed them to maintain conversation throughout the night. Todd had been acting strange throughout dinner and in the barn, but Damian had shrugged it off, it was Todd after all. He was fine.

Later in the night Drake’s paramour was also acting strange but Damian did not care. He’d enjoyed showing Miguel and Santiago around his home, introducing them to his animals, and talking with them extensively about the concept of vigilantes, heroes, and anti-heroes. 

When they’d all been called into the cave and he’d been filled in on the conversation with Nightingale at the dinner table, he’d felt confident that Phantom would be able to answer their questions. Nightingale had an aversion to talking about his past before Gotham, specifically his hometown and his parents, and while Todd made an excellent point about all of them having complicated relationships with parents, it made them all curious about what could have caused Nightingale’s complicated relationship with his parents.

After all, it was unlikely his parents were assassins, or circus performers who’d been murdered, or a supervillain, or had sold him out to the Joker who killed him so-

“His parents.”

Okay so the likelihood that his parents were in fact supervillains and had sold him to someone evil was actually very high. Throughout the entire conversation Damian had felt his blood pressure rising. Nightingale was one of the few respectable people he’d met since moving to Gotham. He was intelligent, kind, good with animals and kids, and respected those around him.

Who in their right mind would hurt Nightingale intentionally? He heard his sentiment echoed around the room as his family processed what exactly Phantom had just admitted. Drake’s incessant tapping on the keyboard had stopped, his jaw clenched tight in a way that mirrored father’s expression. And yet, despite how upset everyone looked- Richard’s expression made him wonder if the man might be crying- Cassandra looked sadder than them all.

Her ability to read body language was one he’d long coveted, but in that moment he wasn’t sure he wanted to know what Phantom’s body language was saying. 

“You can look, but you’re unlikely to find anything about them.” Phantom continued. “I’ve had my best people wipe anything about Danny’s hometown from the internet. They built his new identity and he is here under my protection.”

“So you are the friend who asked Danny to come to Gotham and help out?” Brown asked.

Phantom gave a strained smile. “As a matter of fact, I am not. Danny does whatever he wants, I simply… gave him a new identity to do so. Not that I did the hard work, Technus and a friend of Danny’s did that.”

Damian wanted to know everything about Nightingale. He didn’t want to know anything about Nightingale. Two sides of his desire warred inside him. His desire to know everything about everyone at all times fought his side that wanted to believe someone as kind as Nightingale had never suffered such hardships.

He knew that sentiment was childish, he wasn’t a child, but why must every kind person he meet go through unimaginable pain? 

“We must bring his parents to justice.” Damian gritted out.

Phantom gave him a sad look. “Unfortunately, everything that both his parents and the GIW did, are completely legal. Due to Danny’s death he both produces and consumes ectoplasm. Until the Anti-Ecto-Acts are repealed and Ectoplasmic beings are protected, nothing can be done.”

“But once we do, we must bring his parents to justice. Who are they? What are their names?” Damian demanded.

Giving the same sad smile, Phantom shook his head. “Until the Acts are overturned and protection is given to all ectoplasmic beings I will not be giving out that information.” Damian started to speak but Phantom spoke over him. “I really must be going- I was in the middle of something when you called. If you give me your phone Hood, I can give you my direct line instead of my summoning line.”

Todd, who’d calmed down from his earlier tantrum, handed his phone over immediately and watched as Phantom typed in his number presumably.

“If you have more questions, message me.” He directed to Batman, handing Hood’s phone back. “And if you ever need something handsome, call me.” He winked before a swirling green portal opened behind him and he sank back into it as it swallowed him.

Once the portal had disappeared, Damian looked to his father who was deep in thought. Typically the entire family would start talking, petering, asking questions, all at once, but for once, they were all quiet, waiting for Batman to say something.

“I have a meeting with the Justice League tomorrow, we will discuss all of this including what we’ve learned tonight. Hood, if you wouldn’t mind giving me Phantom’s number so I can invite him to the meeting, I would appreciate it.” Father moved towards the computer where Drake was still working. “I want everything you can find on Daniel Nightingale’s original identity, where he’s from, his parents, everything.”

“B, I’ve been working on this for months I can’t-”

“Red Robin.” Father spoke lowly. “Do what you can. I want tabs kept on Danny Nightingale at all times, we have no way of knowing how fast the GIW will work to get him back. No one goes alone, we patrol in pairs until this is sorted, understood?”

Everyone nodded, albeit somewhat reluctantly. Damian had to agree with their sentiment. He had no desire to be held back from patrolling his own route solo but knew there was no getting around his father’s paranoia. 

“Uh- I work alone.” Thomas said, raising his hand uncomfortably.

Batman considered this for a moment. “Check ins with Oracle every fifteen minutes- no exceptions.” 

Thomas sighed, nodding in agreement. “Yeah okay.”

“Father, this is ridiculous. Surely the GIW is not such a danger to us?” Damian understood caution, but this was a bit much- bordering on how he behaved when Joker was loose.

“Actually-” Todd scratched the back of his head, his helmet held under his arm. “Technically a lot of us probably fall under the GIW guidelines. I definitely do with the whole ‘dead then not’ thing, and you and Cass grew up around the pits- it’s pretty likely we all have a bit of an ecto signature or whatever.”

Father grunted. “Patrol in teams. Check ins every fifteen minutes. Do not approach unknown’s alone. Understood?”

“Yes, father.” Damian replied emotionlessly.

He’d find whoever had done this to Nightingale and he’d make them pay for it.

~~~

“Miguel? Santi? I’m back!”

Danny had portalled back to his apartment, changed into comfier clothes, and made the short trip across the hall to the boys’ apartment. They’d given him permission after the incident with their bio dad to walk into the apartment without knocking but he still made sure to announce himself when he did.

Something in the apartment was different though- colder- and dread settled in his stomach when he received no response.

“Boys?” He turned the corner into the living room. “I’m ho-”

“Oh hey, Danny, you look young- it’s like looking into a mirror. Ten years ago.”

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