#its a dumb conference

[solarurl]

[creepyjirachi]

i must not mald about extremely dumb nonsense 🧘‍♂️

[freebooter4ever]

my 'ive given up on life but i cant live off maple syrup marshmallows and peanut butter sandwhiches i need to get groceries' outfit. for some reason it looks like i took this in daylight but its dark as night outside despite only been 6 and its the most depressing thing i should have gotten groceries in the sunlight ugh hindsight.

[second-breakfast]

Got put on a PIP today for shit no one ever mentioned to me before that isn't new plus some some stuff that it is only halfway accurate

[baltears]

top 4 worst guys to have on your capture the flag team

[chestharrington]

Girls On Film || Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: Steve's absentee parents gift him a camcorder for graduation. What better way to find out how it works than making a sex tape?

Couple: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Rating: Explicit (18+, MDNI)

Content Warnings: explicit smut (f!receiving oral, handjob, p in v sex ft. girl on top), sex on camera, filming a sex tape, lovey-dovey adorable dorks in love

Word Count: 3.7k

Your heart soared with pride as Steve walked off the football field towards you, wearing a goofy-looking gown and graduation cap. As soon as he reached you, he lifted you up and gave you a tiny spin, smiling ear to ear. 

“You’re looking at a college grad,” he said with a smug smile after he put you down. You beamed at him as he lifted his hand and showed off the shiny gold class ring. “I’m never taking this thing off.”

You grinned, tugging at the graduation gown. “What about this thing? You willing to take this off for me?” You smiled wryly and pressed a kiss on his cheek. 

A throat cleared behind you both and you turned, looking at the party and Robin standing with various levels of disgust evident on their faces. 

Robin wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Keep it in your pants, please. Or, I guess keep it in your large, nylon zippy robe.” She squeezed between you and kissed Steve on the cheek. “I’m so proud of you, Steve.”

Dustin stepped forward next and gave Steve a big hug— he’d hit a growth spurt since you last saw him and was nearly as tall as Steve. Lucas, Will, and Mike all offered their congratulations combined with complaints about how boring the ceremony was after they got through the H last names. 

Max crossed her arms as El wheeled her over, trying her best to be nonchalant. “I can’t see you, but I know you look dumb in that stupid hat.” Steve gave a fake laugh, took the hat from his head, and placed it on hers. “Ew, it’s all sweaty, you jerk.” She smiled despite herself and held the hat against her chest.

Steve wrinkled his nose in a way that told you he was trying his best not to cry. You knew it meant a lot to him that they’d shown up. 

“Why don’t we all go for lunch?” You suggested. “My treat.” Not wanting the reunion to end, and not wanting to turn down a free lunch, everyone piled into their cars and headed to Steve’s favorite place.

When you and Steve got into his car, you were greeted by the shrill sound of his car phone ringing. With a furrowed brow, he reached over and retrieved the bulky device from its bag and answered. Even from across the car, you could hear the tinny noise of his mother speaking on the phone. 

“Yeah, the ceremony is over,” he said, jaw ticking. “I sent you both the invitation two months ago.” He looked over with an exasperated look, so you grabbed his hand to give a comforting squeeze. “Well, we’re all going to lunch if you can make it.”

You frowned, but didn’t say anything. Despite their apparent lack of care, you knew that he valued their approval and time.

“Oh. Right, I understand.” He sighed deeply. “Well, I appreciate it. Okay. Okay, bye.”

He hung up and sighed, running a hand through his hair. “They, uh, they got double booked. They’re in Buffalo for a conference right now.”

Your gaze softened at the sight of his disappointed expression. “I know they’re proud of you, Steve.” He nodded, but didn’t look entirely convinced. You pulled the hand intertwined with yours up and placed a soft kiss on his knuckles.

————

When you arrived at your shared condo, you were greeted by a gift-wrapped box on the porch. You had to help him carry it in through the door, huffing as you both dropped it onto your coffee table. 

Steve shrugged off the graduation gown he was wearing and kneeled to unwrap the present. A large card taped to the top revealed the senders, as if that were in question. 

“To our firstborn son— congratulations! Love, Mr and Mrs Harrington.” The emotionless text almost made you grimace. You’d never read something more blatantly written by a personal assistant in your life. 

“Jesus,” he muttered as he tore away the wrapping to reveal the gift. “This thing must’ve cost a fortune.” You glanced over as he held up a plastic case and found nothing that might have revealed its contents. 

“What is it?” You asked, kneeling down beside him and leaning in close. He popped open the case and held up a hulking piece of machinery. 

“It’s a camcorder,” he said with a grin. “It’s the best one on the market.”

You raised your eyebrows and tried not to ask what he even needed one of those for. Video cameras were for new parents and aspiring filmmakers, not college grads.

Your own gift felt tiny in comparison, even though you’d been saving for a few months to afford it. Between rent for you and Steve’s condo, groceries, and gas for your cars, it wasn’t easy to have expendable cash to buy nice gifts with. 

You stayed quiet as Steve marveled at the fancy gift, holding it up to his face like he was testing how it looked through the viewfinder. 

“Gorgeous,” he said, peeking out at you. “I think I found my muse.” You scoffed and covered the camera with your hand even though it wasn’t charged. 

“Plug it in and we’ll see how it works later,” you said. “For now… I have a gift for you.”

He sat up, wearing a grin. “Is it lingerie? Is it dinner at The Olive Garden? Is it a bubble bath?” He leaned in and nipped at your jaw teasingly. “C’mon, tell me—“

You giggled as he pinned you down on the rug, peppering kisses on your cheeks. “Steveeee,” you groaned. He finally stopped, hovering over you. “You’re such a spoiled brat.” That made him grin even more. He pecked your lips chastely, then sat back on his knees. 

You scrambled to stand up and grinned. “Stay there, alright?” He nodded and you disappeared into your shared bedroom. 

Hidden away in your bedside table was a glass trinket box you’d thrifted a few months ago. It was shaped like a heart, with little gold foil embellishments. You couldn’t leave without it. You knew the real gift was inside, but you still hoped that Steve would like the box. 

Steve was fiddling with the camera when you stepped back into the living room, trying his best to plug it in to charge. When he saw you, though, he smiled and sat down on the couch, waiting for you to join him. 

“It isn’t much,” you insisted as you handed it over. “I hope you like it though.”

He smiled and nudged your cheek with his nose. “Are you joking? This is adorable. I love it. I’m gonna keep all my important stuff in here.”

You smiled and shook your head. “Babe, open it.” He looked sheepish as he lifted the lid, then his expression softened. You watched with a fluttering in your chest as he lifted the chain from the box.

It took months to save up for real gold, and then for the pendants after. Two initials— his and yours. “If you don’t like it, I can take it back and get something you actually w—“ 

 He cut you off with a quick kiss that made your head spin. “It’s perfect. Best gift I’ve ever gotten, hands down. And one year I got Yankees tickets behind the plate for my birthday.” He was quick to put it on, smiling over at you. “How do I look?”

You pecked his cheek. “A million bucks, babe.” He leaned in and gave you a real kiss— deep and intense. You smiled against his lips and melted into his touch. You’d never loved someone the way you loved him. 

“Wanna know what’s crazy?” He said after he pulled away. You nodded and he gestured towards the bedroom. “I bought you something too. Stay here.”

You sat patiently as he got up and hurried into the bedroom. You heard scuffling and the sounds of moving drawers until he returned, holding a wooden box. 

“Your gift is inside this, by the way,” he teased as he sat back beside you. You watched him with anticipation until he flipped it open and your heart stopped. 

“So, uh, I got you jewelry too,” he said softly, or maybe your ears were just ringing. 

Inside the box, nestled in the middle of a tiny silk pillow, was a diamond ring. 

Like, a diamond ring. The kind you get married with. 

“That’s—“

He nodded. “Yeah, it is,” he said, grinning ear to ear. “Will you marry me?”

In lieu of a verbal response, you put the ring on and kissed him like he was your one and only source of oxygen. It felt like it anyway— that if you parted from him even a little you’d cease to exist. 

“Yes?” He asked, smiling nervously. “That’s a yes?”

You kissed him again. “It’s a yes, Steve. I wanna marry you.”

———

Steve forgot about the video camera in the excitement of the engagement. Because he had to call Robin’s hotel and let her know, and then she spilled the news to the party, and suddenly it felt like everyone from Hawkins was in the tiny condo. 

After hours and hours of catching up and celebrating the day, you and Steve were left alone in a quiet house. 

“So… the future Mrs. Steve Harrington…” you turned and rolled your eyes at the sight of Steve holding the video camera that had been charging all night. “Anything you want to say to the camera on the night of our engagement?”

“How do you know I’m not keeping my last name?” You asked as he got closer, putting the lens right in your face. You giggled and ducked out of the way as the lens came close to knocking against your nose. “You’re such a child.”

He grinned. “Alright, give me something to remember this night by. For posterity, baby.”

You smiled wickedly at him before lifting the hem of your shirt, flashing your tits at him and the camera. By the time you lowered your shirt back down, his mouth was ajar. “We are never showing anyone this video now.”

You grinned. “Nuh-uh, baby, this is all for you.” You raised your brows in a challenge and stepped into the bedroom, leaving him to hurry behind you with the clunky machine. 

He stood in the doorway, camera focused on you as you slipped off your blouse and skirt. The whirring of machinery inside the camera indicated he was zooming in on your tits. You stifled a laugh at the noise as he zoomed out again, taking in all of you.

“Strip for me,” he directed behind the camera. You gave a wry grin as your thumbs slipped behind the waistband of your panties and dragged them down your legs slowly. “Fuck, you’re so sexy. Gonna put on a show for me?”

You settled on the bed on all fours, back arched as you crawled towards the headboard. Steve groaned at the sight, breath shuddering as you flipped around and spread your legs for him. Without needing instructions, you slipped one hand between your legs and let the other move to your chest, kneading your breast between your fingers. 

He moved from the doorway— the magnetic pull of you too much to resist for long. He settled at the end of the bed, the camera so close it made butterflies swell in your tummy. He moved the camera to your hands, one between your legs, teasing your clit and dipping into the pool of arousal at your center, and the other toying with your nipples, the shiny diamond on the engagement ring glinting with each small movement. 

“Christ, baby hold the camera—“ he said suddenly, passing it over to you. You laughed as he practically threw it into your hands and you had to scramble to turn it right side up. 

You laughed as he tore off his clothes, probably popping some buttons here and there. “Steve, what are you— oh!” 

Without hesitation, Steve buried his head between your thighs, moaning at the taste of your juices as he lapped at your pussy. It was a struggle to film him and enjoy the moment, especially since you had to watch him through the viewfinder. But something about capturing something so intimate on film made a thrill run through you. 

“Fuck, Steve—“ you moaned, being more vocal than you normally would for the camera. Fuck the neighbors, honestly. It was your engagement night! “Your mouth feels so good, honey.” 

His brown eyes peered up at you, at the camera, framed by pretty long lashes. His lips formed a seal around your clit and he sucked lightly, making your legs tremble. Your free hand moved to his hair, tangling in the soft locks as his mouth elicited gasps and moans. 

A slick sheen had formed on the tip of his nose, his mouth, and chin from his ministrations. The sight made heat bloom in the pit of your stomach. His eyes fluttered closed as he lost himself in you— relishing in your sounds, your smell, your taste. 

A light pat on your thigh was his wordless signal for you to move and accommodate him more. You acquiesced, spreading your legs as much as you were comfortably able to, and he let his fingertips tease at your center. 

“Relax for me, baby,” he said, his words vibrating against your clit. He gave the bundle of nerves a light kiss before he looked up at you. “I’ve got you. Just…” He pushed his middle finger into you and you moaned low in your throat, instinctively pushing back against the intrusion. “That’s it. Just like that.”

He was always so gentle with you during foreplay— taking his time to really explore every single spot that he knew made you tick. You shuddered as the pad of his finger pressed against a particularly sensitive spot within you. He knew you like the back of his hand— probably better. He slid a second finger beside the first, coaxing moans and gasps from you as he gave all his attention to your clit and g-spot.

Your thighs trembled as you fought the instinct to close them around his head, the stimulation bordering on too much. The softness of his mouth on you, the press of his fingers against the most sensitive spot inside— making you cum was simply too easy for him. You barely had time to gasp out a breathy “I’m cumming—“ before your orgasm hit you. Your walls gripped his fingers like a vise as he worked you through it, muttering praise against your cunt before he withdrew his fingers completely. 

You stared at the ceiling, trying to find your breath. “C’mere. It's your turn,” you said with a grin. 

Steve simply shook his head. “Not done.” He moved his mouth back to your cunt, this time without the hungry ferocity. You sighed at the sensation, your legs twitching when the tip of his tongue brushed against your clit. His movements lost purpose with each pass of his tongue until he was practically making out with your pussy.

Your head fell back against the pillows, soft gasps slipping past your lips. Steve moaned against you as you tugged his hair, a furrow forming between his brows. So utterly lost in you that he hadn’t even noticed that he was rutting against the bed for friction. 

“C’mere,” you said softly. He pressed a final, wet kiss to your pussy before resting his head on the plush of your thigh. Your stomach flipped as he licked his lips, chasing those last remnants of your taste. He pressed a soft kiss to your belly before crawling up to meet you.

The kiss you shared was hungry and slow. The camera was shoved to the side so you could put your mouth on his— tongues meeting, the tang of your arousal and his spit flooding your senses. 

A low moan escaped his lips as your hand snaked between your two bodies, where you took his length into your hand and stroked slowly. His mouth fell open, a small furrow between his brows. 

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned. You smiled up at him innocently and let your thumb glide across his tip. A full-body shiver overtook him, and you couldn’t help but giggle at the sight. Steve was easy to love all the time, but especially when he was needy. “Switch spots with me.” When you furrowed your brows he nodded towards the camera. “Please?”

When he sat back on his heels, you moved from beneath him and let him settle with his back against the pillows. You were slightly annoyed that he had control of the camera, because goddamn. His thighs were bowed out slightly, cock resting against his stomach. The sight made your heart hammer as you straddled his thighs.

Steve took the camera back into his hands, a wide smile on his face. “Alright, just do what you were doing,” he instructed. “Left hand though.”

You glanced down at your hand and smiled softly. The engagement ring— your engagement ring— glinted up at you. You spit onto your hand and Steve groaned at the sight. 

��Haven’t even touched you yet,” you teased.

“Don’t let me stop you.” His voice wavered, revealing just how needy he really was.

He cried out the moment your hand wrapped around his length, head tossed back against the headboard. His cock pulsed in your hand as it glided up and down, aching for more. You leaned down, spitting onto his tip, giving you more slickness to work with. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, his chest heaving. You moved your right hand to his balls, kneading them as you focused your attention on the head. “Jesus, look at that fuckin’ rock, huh?”

You rolled your eyes and chuckled wryly. “That’s what you’re thinking about? Not— y’know— the handjob to end all handjobs?” To prove your point, you twisted your hand and let your thumb glide over his slit. He practically whimpered, bucking into your grip. 

You redoubled your efforts, relishing in each desperate, whiny noise you were able to elicit. He was getting close— you could feel it in the way he throbbed in your hand, and hear it in the desperate pants and moans passing his lips. Before he could finish, you slowed your pace and let him come back from the edge. 

He sat there, arm slung over his eyes, just catching his breath. “Earth to Steve?” You teased, placing a kiss on his tummy. He made a low noise in the back of his throat and took another deep breath. 

“Okay, I’m good,” he said, a breathy laugh escaping his lips as he finally lowered his arm and looked at you. “Just needed a minute so I didn’t—“ You giggled as he mimed an explosion, completely unabashed about the effect you had on him. 

He grabbed the camera and placed it on the bedside table, doing his best to angle it just right. “Alright… wanna take a ride on the Harrington Express?” He patted his thighs with a smug expression and you groaned in annoyance. 

“Steve.”

“Fine. I’ll be so cool. I’ll be totally normal. But just know… you’re marrying a loser.”

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly as you straddled his thighs. “I wouldn’t have it any other way… most of the time.”

He stared up at you like you hung the moon, all doe eyes and heart-shaped pupils. He pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, tender and slow, and you hummed contentedly at the feeling. 

“I love you,” he murmured against your lips. He moved one of your hands from his shoulder and down to his chest, where his heart thumped steadily. For you.

Your own heart lurched in your chest as a swell of emotions overtook you. “I love you too, Steve.”

You reached between the two of you, taking his cock into your hand so you could position him at your entrance. You breathed slowly through your nose as you sank down— the prep and attention he had given you made the stretch comfortable and bearable, so all you felt was the pleasurable full feeling that he gave you.

Once you were fully seated, you gave an experimental roll of your hips. A moan escaped you at the feeling— as each tiny movement made delicious electricity run along your nerves. 

He sat up fully, his chest pressing against yours, holding you firmly against him. “That’s it, baby,” he groaned, cutting himself off to plant wet kisses along your jaw and throat. “Feels so good. Love the way your pussy feels around me.”

He cried out as you began to ride him in earnest, not caring how thin the walls of the condo were. His hands gripped onto your hips and dimpled the plush skin there as he began to meet your thrusts with his own. With each movement, you could feel him getting deeper until you could practically feel him in your guts. 

“Steve,” you gasped out, meeting his gaze as he fucked up into you. The sound of his name seemed to spur him on.

“Say it again,” he demanded. “Touch yourself while you do,”

You whimpered at the tone of his voice, snaking a hand between your bodies to toy with your clit. Your limbs felt like jelly as he continued to fuck the life and brains out of you. “St-Steve, fuck, baby,” you cried between the hiccup-y sobs of pleasure that were punched from your lungs.

“Fuck, you’re squeezin’ me so tight. Not gonna last like this.”

“Don’t,” you managed. “Cum for me. With me.” You leaned in and kissed him in a way that felt like more saliva than lips. 

When you pulled back, he nodded, forehead pressed against yours as you both worked each other over the edge. Your vision was spotted with pinpricks of light while he worked you through it, his moans distant in your ears. 

You were both panting, nearly tacked together with sweat as you came down. You chuckled lightly as you tilted your head to look at him. “That was one hell of a celebration.” He intertwined your fingers and placed a kiss on your ring finger. 

“And we have the rest of our lives to do it again, and again, and again, and ag—“ 

You shut him up with a kiss. You figure that for the rest of your lives, that’s always going to work. 

It does.

[reidmania]

THIS IS WHAT THE DRUGS ARE FOR | spencer reid

good riddance x spencer reid one shot series masterlist

summary; when no one else helps spencer’s addiction after being kidnapped — you do, and you offer him help as a recovering addict yourself

warnings; mentions of kidnapping, early seasons reid, around the time of his addiction to dilauded, mentions of suicide, mentions of being shot (pass tense during a case) mentions relapsing, addiction to opioids mentions of being addicted to oxycodone, drug use, overdoses, hurt x comfort, angst, not a lot of romance but its sweet, fem reader, normal criminal minds stuff. mentions of the team completely ignoring spencers addiction bc that was messed up.

an; honestly this was difficult to write as a recovering oxycodone addict, a little bit self indulgent.. whoopsies!! but in honour of 5 years sober 🤗🤗 (i am too open with my issues on social media) this is probably horrible

‘This is what the drugs are for. Turn the lights off on the comedown I still get emotional, when I think about your old house. Hopefully, the high, works to change my mind’

You noticed quicker than you wanted to admit. It wasn’t like you could pinpoint a certain point, maybe it was when he turned back at you after standing up from the dead body of his kidnapper and you saw the way his pupils blew, something guilty behind them — maybe thats when your concern started.

You knew for certain when his focus was in and out daily. You knew everyone on the team had their suspicions, had the gut feeling that there was something more to the tiredness in Spencer’s eyes. You knew more than you wanted to admit.

Your hands twirled the pen on your fingers as your eyes stayed fixated on the male sitting in front of you, you watched as his hands came up to scratch the inside of his elbow. You knew the motion all too well, like muscle memory.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you heard Hotch ask a question to which only Spencer reid would know the answer to. You shifted your gaze slightly as you leant back in your chair, at his lack of response and focus.

It took Hotch saying his name a second time for his gaze to pull and a small apology to leave his lips. Hotch repeated the question and you watched as it took a minute too long for Spencer Reid’s all to long ramble to start about the detail.

Normally, someone would make a teasing comment about how Spencer had to think about it, but the tension stayed among the group as they all noticed the same thing — yet no one did anything about it.

You knew the feeling well, and it made your skin itch in anger.

Rossi handed out jobs, inviting you to stay back with Spencer to help with case work. You looked at Spencer noticed his eyes dropping, it made your chest ache.

Everyone else had left leaving you and Spencer in the conference room. Your gaze stayed fixated on him as his mind fell in and out of focus. You had to admit if you didn’t know Spencer Reid as well as you did, he hid it well.

“How long?” You muttered out, as your eyes pulled away from his to skim the case. You could feel his gaze on yours and you could practically feel the heavy breath that left his mouth.

His words came out snappy, but you knew he didn’t mean it. “What?”

You looked up at him again, seeing his gaze on yours, his pupils constricted and you could practically see the way his hand was twitching not to claw at the inside of his elbow.

You knew he knew what you meant, you knew he was playing dumb. You pulled the same thing for years. If he wanted to play the game you’d play, and you would outplay him every time. “How long have you been using?”

His face twisted up, he could’ve been an actor.

“Im not.” He pushed out. His voice betrayed his face, as it went an octave higher. For someone so smart you’d think he would know how to lie — but he didn’t, not well. Not to you. He could tell you didn’t believe him from the way your eyebrow quipped. “I don’t know why you’d think that.” He added, trying to sound convincing.

You hummed, “Your pupils are constricted for one. You aren’t focusing, you are all depressed. Oh and you’re slurring.. By the way” You pointed out with your pen in your hand directed towards him. You watched as his face fell for a split second. If you weren’t paying as much attention as you were you might’ve missed it.

But you were paying attention.

“Im just tired— and I have allergies ” He lied. It made you want to laugh at the familiarity of all his lies, the same ones you remember thinking you were so smart for thinking of in the moment so many years ago.

You let out an unconvinced ‘mhm’ as you nodded your head. You watched as it dawned in his eyes that he had been called out. You wondered if maybe he enjoyed the fact that no one pointed it out, until now, until you.

“I had allergies too, for a long time” You stated out simply, playing his game, outplaying him. Your goal here wasn’t to make him feel ashamed, in any way. It was purely to let him know that he wasn’t alone.

You remembered feeling so alone.

He spluttered slightly, his eyes widened the slightest bit. “What?” He breathed out, confused because he never would’ve guessed. You knew that. You knew the person you were now was nothing like the person you were a few years prior. You hid your addiction well but you were changed as a person, and you weren’t nearly the same person you were before the addiction.

You offered him a small smile, “I know an addict when I see one Reid, I know the addiction. I know your skin feels like it’s crawling right now and your head is probably spinning because you are going through withdrawals. I know all the lies, I used them all before” You said softly as you lean your forearms against the table; your eyes softened as your gaze stayed fixated on his.

You watched the words slowly process through his head. Slowly but surely he seemed to understand. He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “How- How long have you known?” He asked, his voice small, evident how confronting this conversation was for him — but he needed it. He needed to know he had someone in his corner.

“I had my suspicions for a while. I wanted to be sure before I said anything..” You muttered out as you reached across the table to take his hand in yours comfortingly, “I was waiting— hoping someone else said something, I know I’m not your first choice of a person to help you through this — but I am here” You said softly.

You weren’t not close to Spencer. You were, close in age, had similar interests and you two got along well. The childish crush you had on him remained buried in between your ribcage — that was the thing about being an addict, it made you a good actor. You could act your way through any feeling.

He almost coughed at your words, his hand tightening around yours as you gave him a supportive squeeze. “Im- Thank you. I-“ His words seemed heavy on his tongue as his head shook. “I’m glad it’s you.” He said honestly.

You offered him a soft smile. You could almost see a question weighing on his mind, “What is it spence? What do you want to ask?” You prompted him, knowing his mind was properly almost complete fog at this point, overtaken by cravings.

“What- What were you addicted to? When?” He asked, eyebrows pushed upwards as if he was trying to figure out the timeline of your addiction, it caused an uncomfortable bubble in your chest.

“I was an oxy’s girl” You said, you knew it wasn’t funny but it seemed as joking was the only way to get through talking about this no matter the unsettling feeling it left in your stomach.

You exhaled heavily, “I started taking them in college after a surgery.. and well- I got addicted, obviously.” You ran your free hand through your hair as the memory dwindled in the back of your mind. Spencer’s hand squeezed your hand softly, making a half hearted tight lipped smile line your lips.

“I was clean when I first started here.” You said, fingers fidgeting. He listened with as much focus as he could with your words — you didn’t take offence to his half out of it mind. You couldn’t. “I relapsed after I got shot and they put me on them — no one knew about my addiction and I was too embarrassed to admit it to the doctors in front of the team, I relapsed once I got out of hospital.” You stated honestly.

You remembered it clear as day, after four years sober, the day you relapsed still stayed engraved into the walls of your mind freshly. You had been shot in the shoulder on a case, you were rushed to hospital and put on oxycodone and other pain medications immediately while unconscious. When you woke up and asked what they had given you, the team was standing around your bed so all you could do was nod, the relapse happened after that.

Spencer’s hand tightened on yours as his face pulled with guilt when he realised he didn’t notice. He opened his mouth to apologise but you cut him off, already knowing what he was going to say. “It’s okay.” You said, tightening your grasp on his hand mirroring his grasp on yours. “I mastered my lies by then, after years and years of lying to everyone around me.. I knew what worked and what did it.. I did it to myself” You spoke honestly.

He chewed on his lip as his gaze adverted to the table. You held his hand tightly as you felt it twitch slightly. You knew he wanted to scratch his elbow and you knew why. Your face softened all over again.

“It’s not worth it Spence. Trust me.” You said, voice heavy with honesty and you meant it more than words could explain. “You get mean, really mean, you lose yourself more and more everyday. Its not worth losing everyone around you, its not worth losing yourself” You gaze stayed on his face even when his eyes avoided yours.

You heard the shaky breath leave his lips, and then his hand left yours as his pinched his eyelids, trying to stop the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes as he squeezed them shut. It made your stomach ache.

“It- Its so hard” He said quietly. You didn’t think you had ever experienced heartbreak like hearing his voice break. Any sort of pain you felt in your life didn’t quite compare to seeing him fall apart from your words.

“I know- I know” You instantly stood up from your seat as you walked around the table towards him, he stood up as well and before you could do anything his hands were around your waist, pressing his body against yours and his head into the crevice of your neck. You arms wrapped around him without a second thought.

You could feel his tears against the skin of your neck, they were hot and thick. Your hand ran across his back gently. You always thought you’d know exactly what to do if this moment ever came to be — but you didn’t.

Words died in the back of your throat as all you could do was hold the boy in your arms as he let out the quietest soft sobs that made a gut wrenching feeling settle in your bones as goosebumps ran over your skin.

“I- I want to stop — I want to- How did you stop?” He said, wiping his face as he stood up straight, arms pulled back by his side. Your heart ached and your skin burned.

You shook your head, “Do you remember when I had to take emergency leave for family emergency?” You asked, eyes looking up into his that gleamed wet and dreary. It pulled on your heart strings and uncomfortable amount,

He nodded briefly, after he took a long moment to try to recall. You nodded back, a sigh leaving your lips. “I- Um.. I overdosed.” You stated, trying to speak stronger than your voice allowed you to. “I was in hospital for two weeks, connected to machines and wires — forced to speak to someone everyday until they deemed me healthy. I didn’t tell anyone- no one knows” You continued to shake your head.

“Do not let it get to that point Spencer — Shaking on the floor and literally frothing at the mouth, feeling so cold but not even functioning enough to know what being cold is, is not want you want. I know it feels good now — but you are going to kill yourself whether you want to or not if you keep taking it.” You spoke clearly, wanting your point to be perfectly clear. It was not worth it.

He held guilt behind fogged eyes, guilt that he didn’t notice, guilt that he almost lost you — literally and he had no idea. That you were alone during the lowest point of your life and he had no idea. He allowed your words to cloud his mind for a moment as they worked to overpower the cravings that were working to controlling his system.

“i- I don’t- Im sorry.” He stuttered over his words as he failed to think of anything better to say. Your face fell briefly as you wrapped your arms around him again.

“Im here? Okay. We will do this together day by day. I am here and I’m always going to be here Spence.” You comforted non the less.

He needed it and you needed him

[megalony]

I Trust You

This is my newest Dark! Buck imagine, I hope you will all like this one and thank you @missdreamofendless for going through ideas with me for this one.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

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Evan Buckley Masterlist

Summary: After meeting (Y/n) and her baby out on a call, Evan quickly finds himself falling for her and attaching himself to her. She's all he can think about. And she will be his.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A deep sigh rumbled past Evan's lips when he hopped down from the truck. This looked like it was going to take a while.

He squinted up at the building in front of them, trying to think and get a layout of the hospital in his mind to figure out which part of the building was on fire.

Evan had never been to a hospital fire before. He had never known a hospital in this area have a fire or have one that was catastrophic enough to cause a full evacuation like this. The 118 hadn't been here at the beginning of the fire, they seemed to have turned up right in the middle of things like they were the last ones to arrive to a party.

This meant full gear. Evan set about zipping up his overall jacket and found his helmet in one of the compartments. He stuck it on his head, fished around for his gloves and strapped them tight around his wrists. Once on, he found his mask in its dusty orange bag and strapped it around his waist. They didn't know how much smoke they would run into up there and when Bobby gave them all a look, they all nodded.

Evan could feel his shoulders slumping as he helped Hen hand out the oxygen tanks to their team.

Smoke and fire meant all the oxygen would be sucked in to feed the flames. They had to be able to breathe in order to evacuate the patients. The tank weighed heavy on Evan's back right between his shoulders, but it was a weight he was used to and not nearly as heavy as the ones he trained with down at the gym. He just knew that the extra weight and effort was going to make him sweat more profusely in that sauna of a hospital.

Fully suited, Evan clicked his neck into place and stood in line with the rest of the team, waiting patiently for Bobby to confer with the 106 who had gotten here first. They needed to know where they were needed and what they were going to be doing.

"Alright, Chim they need an extra set of hands assessing the ICU patients and getting them transported. Hen, you and me will go up to the third floor, there are a few patients they're struggling to transport with all the equipment."

Both of them nodded and Chimney jogged over to the tent set up outside where they were trying to sort out who was most in need of transportation. Nearby hospitals were taking in anyone they would who needed special monitoring or dialysis or life support.

"Eddie, Buck, there's still people on the second floor in the maternity wing who aren't evacuated so go there and make sure that ward is clear please."

"Copy."

Evan took the lead. He knew where he was going, he had been in the hospital enough times to know where the wards were located and he knew the maternity ward was near the front. He steered towards the left and over to the 106 truck that was conveniently moving their ladder towards the front windows to help get their teams in and patients out.

"Can you get us up to the second floor?" Evan pointed at the ladder and when the guy whose helmet read Taron nodded, he and Eddie climbed up on the top of the truck.

There was no time and no need to clip a harness onto the ladder when they could just run up and get in. The ladder was safe enough and they didn't have time to mess around here.

Evan was glad when he got to the top of the ladder that he didn't have to break the window. It was open on a latch, so all he had to do was wiggle his fingers, undo the latch and shimmy the window up as high as it would go. He briefly took off his helmet so he could shimmy through the window before he plonked it back on his head and looked around.

"Where'd you wanna start?"

"Fire's towards the left part of the building, there should be an exit across at the back. Start left and loop around?" Evan pointed to the door on his left that would lead them into the corridor.

It seemed safest to head nearest the fire and make sure no one was in peril, then they could loop around, clear the floor and get out.

"Sure," Eddie tapped his helmet to make sure it was in place but when they headed out the room, his eyes narrowed and he looked up at his best friend. "You holdin' out on me or something?"

How did Evan know his way around the hospital so well, especially the maternity ward?

"Nothing so exciting. I've got a good memory, from visiting Mads and Jee."

He steered to the left and headed down a long corridor, both of them peering into each room they passed. They had to get everyone out, smoke was already starting to clog up the halls and seep through the vents. They didn't want to be in here long.

When Eddie peered down a corridor on the right, he placed his hand down on Evan's shoulder and pulled him back in that direction.

There were two women and two nurses heading their way, hurrying as fast as they could down the corridor.

"All of you, this way and down the back exit there will be people outside to take you somewhere safe." Eddie waved his hands and guided them towards him, showing them the back stairs which weren't yet consumed by the flames or drastic smoke following them like a shadow.

They found another three mothers, all with their own newborns in their arms, and Eddie turned and guided them back down to the stairs while Evan carried on. They only had a few more rooms to clear and then they could check the neonatal rooms and get out of here.

Just as Evan went to open one of the doors on his right, he took a step back when it was yanked open like a force of nature. He stumbled on his back foot, eyes wide and lips parted.

The girl stood in front of him displayed the same shock that was written across his face. They hadn't expect the other to be there.

She was stunning.

Evan wasn't sure if it was the adrenaline coursing through his system, the smoke he had started to inhale or just the rush of emotions in this situation. But he couldn't tear his eyes away from her.

The way the loose tendrils of hair fell down her face made her look positively angelic. Her doe eyes were wide and round and her pupils took over almost the whole expanse of her eyes. Those plump, parted lips were heart shaped and made Evan want to lean closer and taste them.

Her hands were gripping the door, clinging to it like she was trying to prop herself up and the way she was slightly stooped forward made Evan trail his eyes up and down her frame.

She had already had her baby. A lot of the rooms in this ward were mixed, some women had given birth, others were under observation and some were in labour. He guessed all those in labour had been escorted out first, they would have been priority to be taken to the nearest hospital.

And by the way she was leaning forwards, Evan wondered if she had gone through a C-section.

He noted that she was wearing pyjamas. A thin, light blue top with thin spaghetti straps over her shoulders and matching, baggy pyjama bottoms.

"Come with me, we're evacuating all the wards in this wing. I'll take you outside." He reached his hand out for her elbow and gently tried to coax her forward, but her eyes were rapidly scanning the corridor. "Miss-"

"I- my baby, I have to get her." Both her hands clutched Evan's arm so tightly she had him shaking along with her.

She tried to turn him around and drag him in the opposite direction towards the neonatal unit.

(Y/n) couldn't go and just leave her baby. She was two days old. She had to go and make sure someone had taken her and if not, she had to get her baby and get out. There was no way she could leave the hospital and go outside to safety if she didn't know whether her baby would be there or not. She couldn't leave Rory here in peril.

When she desperately pulled on his arm, Evan moved. He looped his right arm around her back and let her keep hold of his left hand. He tilted his head down, taking note of the nametag strapped around her wrist and he tried to rub his gloved hand up and down her back.

Something about the way she slotted into place in his arms almost made Evan smile. He felt like he'd seen her before, there was something about her that captivated him completely and Evan wanted nothing more than to keep her in his arms and escort her downstairs himself.

"(Y/n)," Her name felt like sugar on his lips and her eyes held his full attention when she stopped struggling and looked up at him. "I need you to go out to safety. You go with my partner, and I'll go make sure no baby isn't still here. Chances are she's already outside waiting for you."

When Evan caught sight of Eddie coming back from the stairwell, he slowly turned (Y/n) around so they were facing the right way.

He had to make sure the ward was clear anyway, and he couldn't allow her to come searching with him when she was a patient and needed to be looked after. If the fire got worse, Evan had a gas mask and an oxygen tank and protective clothing, (Y/n) didn't.

The tight grip she had on his hand made him step closer to her and the desperation in his eyes drew her in. He didn't want to let go of her. He didn't want to hand her over to Eddie, as if she was a friend Evan didn't want to share or part with.

Her voice sounded like a song, serenading him and her words struck his heart and rattled down to his core.

"Please- she- she's all I've got-"

"Hey, I'm going to get her and bring her right back to you, okay? Don't worry, you go wait outside."

When Evan nodded at Eddie, he begrudgingly unravelled his arms from her and let Eddie take her arm instead.

He made sure to note the last name written on her wristband before he disappeared down the corridor to the last place he hadn't evacuated yet. He burst through the doors of the first room, the neonatal room compact with incubators and equipment and heaters and oxygen masks and all the smaller instruments specifically for premature babies.

All had been evacuated. That was good. The most fragile patients had been escorted out of here.

Evan could feel the heat following him like he was a thief in the night and the heat was licking the back of his neck and smothering his jacket. He pushed ahead towards the last room in this ward where the healthy newborns were looked after.

To his surprise, there was one nurse left, one babe in each arm and her head instantly ticked to the cradle behind the door Evan had burst through. "These are the last ones, everyone should be out by now." The nurse sounded relieved but her expression was panicked.

There were no more babies to be evacuated and now that Evan and Eddie had evacuated all the other patients, they were all in the clear.

He nodded and spun around, suddenly glad that the hospital put wristbands on each child as soon as possible. He couldn't imagine not knowing which child was which or leaving with two and getting them mixed up. What a horror that would cause.

When he looked down at the cradle, something surged through his heart. He didn't need to read the wristband on the child's arm that was waving back and forth as they wailed, clearly petrified. He could see the name written on the chart on the side of the cradle.

The last name stuck out first. This was (Y/n)'s baby. This was the little one she had been trying to get to, the one Evan promised to find. And when he looked at her first name, his lips quirked.

Aurora.

Fitting. Such a lovely name for a little girl that reminded Evan of a princess.

His gloved hands shook as he carefully reached down for her and slowly eased her into his chest. He knew his jacket wouldn't be the comfiest, it would be itchy against her soft, tender skin but they didn't have much of a choice right now.

The moment she was in the crook of his elbow, her cries ceased almost immediately. She switched to whimpers and wriggling around and when Evan cooed and rocked her as he turned around, it was like magic.

He tucked her blanket a bit higher so it was draped over her neck and very loosely over her mouth. Just in case the smoke followed them in here.

He whispered a soft "It's okay, I've got you." and held her higher to his chest as he moved towards the window. He knew the layout of this place, this room was facing the chaos outside. He could get the truck to move the ladder over to them and get them out quicker. He didn't want to risk going back down the stairs when the fire was still spreading.

It didn't take long to open the window, wave his hand and wait for the truck to tilt the ladder a few degrees to the left to reach them.

"Here's our ride." He held his free hand out to the nurse and took one of the newborns so she could climb over the legs and carefully stand on the ladder. Once she had both back in her arms, she started her descent and Evan cast his eyes down to Aurora in his arms.

He couldn't look away from her as he swung his legs over the window frame and climbed onto the ladder.

His gloved hand cradled hers, his thumb stroked over the back of her hand and he rocked her up and down while he steadily walked down the ladder. He was more careful than he usually would have been when he climbed down from the truck and got back onto solid ground.

He wouldn't let anything happen to the girl in his arms.

"You're okay, you're okay." He cooed as he lifted her higher against his chest and looked around the scene.

He didn't want to let her go.

What would happen if he held her for just a while longer? Would anyone stop him? Would someone take her from him? What if he couldn't find (Y/n) again? Possibilities ran through his head until his eyes lifted and he looked ahead to where one of the tents was set up in the middle of the foyer.

There she was.

He wasn't too sure where Eddie was, maybe he had been roped into getting the last part of the fire under control. Maybe he was getting patients to an ambulance for transporting, Evan wasn't sure, and suddenly he didn't care. All he cared about was watching that captivating girl hurry towards him as fast as she could in her state.

She had one arm tightly bound around her abdomen, making Evan sure that she was recovering from a C-section. Her eyes were looking at him as if she had tunnel vision, as if Evan was the only thing she could see. The only person worth looking at.

He could see the desperation in her eyes and the panic written across her face and when he glanced down, he realised she wasn't even wearing socks. She was barefoot, aiming for him to see if he had her baby.

"Is- Is it Rory?"

He was about to say no until it clicked a second later that Rory was short for Aurora. He liked that. He really liked that name.

"I've got her, she's fine."

It made something twinge in his chest like a muscle had snapped when he lowered the newborn down into her mother's arms. It was fascinating that (Y/n) didn't have to check the nametag on the newborn's wrist to know that this was her baby. Instinct must have taken over, unless she simply took Evan's word as gospel that this was indeed her child.

He could see the relief pooling in her eyes and she looked so thankful that she could have fainted and collapsed there on the spot. She held Rory close to her chest, dragging her thumb over the back of her soft head that she started to kiss. But her eyes looked up to stare at the fireman who had helped them.

She read the name on his helmet.

Buckley. 118.

She wasn't going to forget that in a hurry. (Y/n) would bear that name in mind, she was going to have to thank him for this.

"Can I take you to a medic, to make sure you're both okay?" Evan dared to rest his hand on her lower back and took a step closer until their sides were touching and he had to look down to see her face properly.

She nodded and he was spurred on when she didn't pull away or create some space between them. He motioned his other hand out in front of them and slowly started to guide them towards a paramedic he could see in the distance. They both needed to be checked out before they were taken somewhere to wait for transport to a different hospital for the remainder of their stay.

His eyes found their way back to (Y/n) when she lifted her head up and he saw a smile forming on her lips.

Her smile was beautiful. He wanted to keep that smile in his memory. He wanted to gaze on that smile and be the reason she smiled. He wanted to keep that smile for himself and be the one and only reason she sparkled as brightly as that.

"You're a real hero, you know that?" She sounded breathless and he could see she was subtly shaking, but her words were enough to spark a fire igniting throughout Evan's system.

He liked the sound of that.

He had never been a hero to anyone before. He had failed in trying to save Daniel, and that meant he would never be good enough in his parent's eyes. He had never done anything to warrant being a hero to Maddie. He had been there after she got away from Doug, but he never did anything to actually save her, not like he wanted to.

He hadn't been a hero to any of his past girlfriends and that had been okay, he didn't have anything to prove to them or a desire to be heroic for them.

But hearing (Y/n) say that, seeing her look at him like that, it sparked something to life in his chest and made his heart swell and his head rattle with ideas and thoughts and images of a future that he wanted. He liked the thought of being a hero to her. He liked the thought of being there when she needed him, of being the one to help her.

Curiosity dwelled in his eyes along with a spark that started to form. Maybe she needed a hero. Maybe (Y/n) was someone who needed saving.

Evan could do that. He could save her. He could be there and help her, he could definitely see himself trying to help her and the beautiful little bundle in her arms.

And as he stared down at the pair of them, he couldn't get that thought to leave his mind.

***

Something sparked in Evan's eyes when he looked dead ahead of him. He could feel all the blood rushing to his stomach, fluttering along with adrenaline and a sense of hope that was growing wings and trying to take flight.

She was here.

The girl. The one he had been thinking, imagining and dreaming about for the last week. The girl he had saved from the hospital, she was walking right through those station doors.

He knew it!

He knew, Evan just knew if he bided his time, he would run into her sooner or later. But oh, had it been hard. He found it so hard to stay focused at work, to go home each night and try to find a way to get her off his mind. Nothing worked. Going to the gym didn't help when she still plagued his thoughts and he couldn't push through the barrier she created. He couldn't find the attention span to watch movies after work.

He didn't want to go out for drinks with any of the team, and when some of the women on calls tried to flirt with him, Evan felt angered. They weren't her; they weren't (Y/n).

But now she was here. It just proved that Evan knew deep down it would work out. He knew he would bump into her again at some point, and it had only taken a week for her to walk into his station.

Evan didn't have to resort to hanging around where she lived- the address which he had found on her file that he checked back at the hospital fire when patients were being transported to different hospitals. He didn't have to wait around where she lived and try to catch another glimpse of her and create a casual meet.

He didn't have to go looking for her to stop her from haunting his every waking moment, because here she was, walking into his station like this was where she belonged all along.

Evan tossed down the cloth in his hand, rolled his eleeves up to his elbows and jogged ahead between the fire trucks. He wanted to make sure no one else got to her first. He wanted- no, he needed to be the one to talk to her, to find out why she was here. To find out if she was here to see him.

She looked lovely. Hair swept back out of her face, teeth sunk down into her bottom lip that looked like an anxious habit to Evan. She was wearing jeans and a pale turquoise shirt that cut a bit low down the front and had ruffles around the shoulders.

His eyes cast down to the pram she was pushing. She had brought Aurora down to the station.

"(Y/n), hi."

She paused when Evan approached and his heart ignited when he saw the way her lips curved into a beautiful grin that flashed her teeth and creased her eyes.

"Buckley… so I am at the right place." Her voice was so soothing, no hint of panic or torment like the first time they spoke. No panic written across her face and no anguish building up in her heart.

He saw the way she cast her eyes up and down his frame as he stepped closer and tucked his hands into his pockets. He couldn't help but look down into the pram, and his smile widened when he looked at the newborn tucked up beneath a blanket. She was sleeping, she looked very settled and calm and he loved that the beige hat she wore had a Mickey Mouse silhouette sewn into the centre.

"Call me Evan. What can we do for you? Are you both okay?" When Evan moved one hand from his pocket and motioned to the pram, he waited until (Y/n) nodded to reach down. He brushed his finger along Aurora's cheek, loving the way she seemed to lean into his touch like she knew exactly who he was and that he was someone she wanted to be around.

"We're fine, thanks to you. I came to say thank you, properly, for helping us last week."

Reaching down beneath the pram, (Y/n) found the tuppaware box and gingerly held it out to Evan. She tried not to blush or let heat rise to her skin when she saw the way he grinned as he took the box from her. It wasn't much, but she knew baked goods were always welcomed and she wasn't quite sure how else to say thank you. Other than to come down in person to show her gratitude and hand over some cookies.

"Thank you." Evan was already opening the box and diving in to try a cookie and he hummed when he bit into one. "You didn't have to, you know. It's all part of the job."

"It's not everyday a hospital has a fire, or that someone goes back in to get your baby for you. Thanks is the least I could do."

This may be an everyday thing for him, but not for (Y/n). She hadn't gone into the hospital expecting a mass fire to break out. She didn't expect to be evacuated or to have someone rush back inside to make sure her daughter wasn't still in there and get her out safe. She didn't dare think what would of happened if he hadn't of been there at that exact moment, to help her.

"So, she's doing okay?" His eyes cast down to the pram when he finished the cookie and tucked the box under one arm so he didn't drop it.

Part of him wanted to reach in and pick her up. She had seemed very settled when he held her last week at the hospital. He wanted to see if she would still settle with him. He wanted to cuddle her and see how she might attach herself to him, to see if she would remember who he was.

"Yeah, she's doing great. Keeping me awake at night, but that's what I signed up for."

"Just you two?" Evan spoke before he could stop himself and despite how quiet his voice came out, he knew (Y/n) heard him. He diverted his eyes down to the pram, brushing Aurora's cheek once again as she started to wriggle. But the quiet hum (Y/n) gave out handed him his answer.

Just her and her girl. They had each other, and that was all they needed.

"Hey, what're you doing here?"

Evan snapped his head up to look over at Bobby when the Captain trotted down the stairs from the kitchen and made a beeline their way. The sight of him walking forward had Evan's brows furrowing and he tilted his head to one side in uncertainty.

"Just stopped by to say thanks to your team, for being so lovely during the hospital evacuation last week."

The smile that flooded (Y/n)'s face when she looked up at Bobby had a slither of jealousy creeping up the back of Evan's spine and surging through his chest. How did she know Bobby? Why was she smiling like that at him? Hadn't she come here to see Evan, not the Captain?

He watched Bobby loop an arm around (Y/n)'s waist and reel her in for a hug, and he did his best to hide his grimace as he watched them. And he swallowed down a grumble when Bobby kissed the top of (Y/n)'s head and gave her a squeeze.

"Oh really? Stick around for a coffee, see the rest of the team." Bobby spoke into the top of (Y/n)'s hair and when he finally parted from her, he patted Evan's shoulder and leaned around him to look into the pram at Aurora. He had a few things to take care of, but he would make time for a coffee if (Y/n) stuck around for a while.

Bobby seemed to smile wider when he saw the newborn nuzzling into Evan's hand that was still stretched down towards her.

When he walked past them both and moved towards the back of the station, Evan turned his attention to (Y/n). He tried to keep his composure, stay standing tall and plastered the smile back on his face as he stepped closer to her. He liked the way she had to tilt her head at an angle to look up at him. He liked that doe look in her eyes and the way she smiled at him was as if he was the only person in the world worth talking to.

"You uh, you know Bobby?"

"He's my uncle, I used to stay with him a lot when I moved out here after school. He's Rory's godfather."

(Y/n) would say that she was closer to her uncle than she was to her own parents. He had practically taken her in when she moved out to LA not long after Bobby left Minnesota to come out here. She had always heard him talking about his team, but she had never come down to the station or formally met any of them. They were like Bobby's second family and sometimes it was easier to keep both his worlds separate.

But from what (Y/n) had briefly seen of the team, she knew she would like them, especially Evan.

"Oh, wow." Evan nodded and began walking, motioning his arm in the right direction as (Y/n) followed along at his side with the pram. She would stick around for a coffee and a chat before she took Rory back home.

As Evan dragged his hand up and down his jaw and listened to the sound of (Y/n)'s shoes clicking against the polished floor, he found himself smiling. He had no idea Bobby had a niece, or that his niece would turn out to be someone so lovely who Evan was finding himself thinking of at every waking moment.

He liked the idea of (Y/n) being related to Bobby. Evan had come to think of Bobby as the dad he'd never had growing up. Bobby looked after him, taught him life lessons, was there when he needed him and loved and supported him and told him when he was wrong and how to right his problems.

If (Y/n) was related to Bobby, that just meant that instead of feeling like Bobby was his foster dad, he would now have a connection to him. If Evan got close to (Y/n) and found himself in a relationship with her, he would therefore be more like a true relation to Bobby. This was the beginning of a family.

They would all be drawn closer together, and Evan wanted to be as close to (Y/n) as he could get.

***

Evan almost jumped out of his skin when a hand gripped his shoulder and he felt a tall presence leaning over his right shoulder. He could feel his heart hammering away so fast in his chest he thought his ribs were going to splinter.

He glanced over his shoulder and his eyes locked with Bobby. The Captain had a knowing grin on his face that put Evan at ease, he wasn't about to be reprimanded for anything and he wasn't going to have a stern conversation. He seemed to have taken some delight in making Evan nervous, something Bobby didn't do very often.

"So, my niece, huh?"

It took Evan by surprise and he had to take a few seconds to work out what Bobby was talking about. Until Bobby cast his eyes down to look at Evan's phone that was clasped in his hands, and they both looked at his lockscreen.

(Y/n).

A blush started to creep up the side of Evan's neck and dusted across his cheeks when he nodded. He wasn't sure how to respond to that because it didn't really sound like a question, it was more of a statement or a rhetorical question.

But Bobby didn't seem upset or annoyed or like Evan was overstepping any mark here. He looked happy, if Evan wasn't mistaken.

"I uh, I really like her, Bobby, and Rory. I'd never mess them around-"

"Kid, I trust you. You've come a long way, and I know you wouldn't do anything to hurt either of them. If you're both happy, then so am I."

He had Bobby's approval, and he didn't have to try or ask or say anything at all. Bobby was happy for them. He was happy that Evan was infatuated with his niece and would do anything for her. This was better than Evan had hoped for.

Something soft dwelled in (Y/n)'s eyes when she glanced towards the living room.

Evan was sweet.

He was stood behind the sofa, looking like he had been pacing up and down for a little while now. He had Rory in his arms who he had been holding for the last twenty minutes or so. He barely put her down, and she barely cried in his arms.

She couldn't quite believe how sweet and endearing Evan was being towards both her and Rory.

(Y/n) had been a little nervous and mostly unsure when Evan came round last week, and then again, and then popped by today. She wasn't sure why he wanted to befriend her so badly. She was a single mother with a newborn, she wasn't going to be much fun or good company, but Evan seemed intent on getting to know her. And he was more than eager to fuss Rory and settle her if she woke up, to give (Y/n) a break.

She folded her arms over the kitchen counter and tilted her head to one side, watching Evan with a growing smile that spread across her lips. He looked like he was a natural with kids, Bobby had said so himself. He said all the kids they had on calls or the school groups that stopped by the station all levitated to Evan like he was some kind of beacon.

He understood them, he was a friendly, understanding face and a fun person to be around. And he just seemed to have a natural talent with kids. When he came round to have a coffee with (Y/n), to see how she was and ask if she wanted to go for a walk or just spend some time together, he was always more than eager to have Rory around.

Not many men would be like that. Not many men at all would try and befriend (Y/n) or pursue her when she had a baby to look after. And not many men would be so taken with her newborn and try to offer help and be a friend to be around when needed.

She couldn't hear whatever Evan was saying to Rory, but the grin on his face made her wonder if he was relaying a story, possibly a work scenario.

Her eyes finally tore away from the pair of them to look down at her phone when it buzzed on the countertop.

*Me and Athena are having a BBQ at the weekend, do you want to come over? You can bring Buck XX

(Y/n) could feel herself lighting up at the thought of a party, but when she re-read her uncle's words again, her chest started to ignite with adrenaline and her face fell into a frown.

She could bring Evan? Why would he ask her that? Wouldn't he just invite Evan along anyway? Most of her uncle's parties or meals and events included his work team nine times out of ten. Evan would surely be on the list to be invited, he would likely be the first person they invited. Why was there any need for (Y/n) to bring him along?

For a brief moment, she glanced back over at Evan in the living room, watching as he moved to sit down on the sofa, still cooing and quietly chattering away to her daughter.

*Bring Buck? XX

*Don't worry, he told me. I'm happy for you both, he's a good kid and the team is eager to meet you XX

What on Earth did that mean?

What had Evan told her uncle? Did Bobby think they were in a relationship? Did anyone else think she and Evan were in a relationship?

She and Evan were friends, he had been kind to her and he was becoming a good friend. But they weren't in a relationship. He hadn't asked her and (Y/n) wasn't sure she was ready for that. Her last relationship had gone bust the moment she found out she was pregnant and (Y/n) made the decision to do this on her own. She wanted to have her baby and she was happy to be a single mother to Rory.

(Y/n) couldn't be thinking about a relationship right now, not after she'd just had Rory and her world was turned upside down, in the best possible way. She wasn't in the right moment to be thinking about getting into a new relationship.

Stuffing her phone into her back pocket, (Y/n) sighed and pushed off the counter. She was going to have to talk to him about this. Either Bobby had gotten the wrong end of the stick somewhere along the line, or Evan had said something he shouldn't. Or maybe Evan had gotten the wrong end of things, but how?

(Y/n) hadn't said anything or done anything to give Evan the wrong idea. They were friends.

She moved away from the counter, but paused when another buzz ticked through the air. That wasn't her phone. She dared to lean over, just to catch a glimpse of Evan's phone; it might be Bobby messaging him.

She wished she hadn't looked.

Why did Evan have a photo of (Y/n) as his lockscreen?

When had he even taken a picture of (Y/n)? She didn't recall Evan ever holding his phone up and taking a photo of her, she would of remembered something like that happening with someone she didn't know very well. Why was it made his lock screen? Why had he taken a photo of her?

A shiver crawled down her spine as she walked out of the kitchen and slowly headed into the living room. She tried to smile when she watched Evan gently ease Rory down in the rocker near the armchair. The newborn was fast asleep.

(Y/n) folded her arms over her stomach and leant one hip against the back of the armchair, trying not to look too panicked or too casual or uneasy.

"Evan, have you said something to Bobby, about us?" She forced herself to control her breathing and keep her tone light. She didn't want to argue with him or start something here, she just wanted to clear this all up.

The last thing they needed was to go to this barbeque at the weekend and have people asking if they were an item and one saying yes and the other saying no. They couldn't get things muddled up or let the lines blurr.

She watched his head tilt to one side and a lopsided smile formed on his lips as he squinted up at her.

"Well, yeah, I talk about you sometimes, so… he knows. He's fine with it, though, so don't worry."

"He knows?" Her head shook and the placid smile on her face showed her clear confusion.

She could feel panic dwelling up in her chest when Evan brushed his hands up and down his thighs and pushed up to his feet. She couldn't help but take a step back when Evan twisted and walked over to her. He walked slowly, as if he was a predator stalking towards her, assessing her movements. And (Y/n) held steady, not wanting to give the wrong impression or seem like she was angry when she was simply confused.

Her breath caught in her lungs and she could feel her throat tightening when he stepped so close, their chests were touching. She could feel each breath Evan took, pressing down against her and she couldn't help the shiver that rolled down her spine when Evan's fingers pressed beneath her chin and tilted her head up in his direction.

The way he smiled down at her made something twinge in (Y/n)'s stomach. She couldn't quite figure it out, but there was just something in his eyes that made her uneasy. That glimmer, that added, darkened look that made his pupils dilate and caused his mouth to curve into a splintered smile that set her on edge.

"Yeah, that you're my girls."

His words were followed by his lips pressing to her forehead that had started to spin in circles.

She didn't realise Evan's hands had moved to her hips or that he was nudging her back until the sofa pressed into her knees and she found herself sitting down. Her heart jumped into her throat once again and she could feel herself trembling when Evan sat down beside her.

He was close enough that their knees were touching and he curled one hand around her thigh while the other hand cupped the side of her neck. She could feel his thumb brushing softly across her jaw and when he leaned in, the only place for (Y/n) to go was to tilt backwards.

He was leaning over her. He was crowding her, surrounding her, blocking her exit and her senses and numbing her thoughts.

She didn't know what to do when he kissed her.

His lips were soft, but there was something behind his touch, something he was holding back. She could feel it in his touch, in the way his hand was so tense against her neck it was like he was about to start shaking. There was something in his hand gripping her thigh, like he was tempted to squeeze even tighter and pin her in place.

The feeling of his chest pressing down onto hers made (Y/n) sink further back into the sofa she was becoming compressed on when Evan was practically lying on top of her.

She stole as much air as she could manage in the second that their lips parted and she could feel Evan smiling into her mouth before he kissed her again.

This was moving too fast. They hadn't even gone out on a date or made any inclination towards dating. They were friends- (Y/n) thought they were friends.

Evan had come round to see her a few times, they had exchanged numbers. There was no reason for her picture to be on his phone or as his lockscreen. He shouldn't be kissing her now when they hadn't agreed to start dating and they didn't know each other well.

Evan had instagated this all on his own, he had attached himself to her and he didn't look like he was going to part from her. He had told his team that they were dating, he was already making it a well-known fact when the person he should have been talking to about this was (Y/n); the only person left in the dark about all of this.

What was she going to do?

[kylestfs]

Hi. Is parking with cars still relevant? I urgently need a car to get to the airport, and the taxi service is full... Can I take Mercedes-Benz S-class? I hope I make it to the medical conference, otherwise my supervisor will kill me..

Conference ? Job? No, the only job you’ll ever be doing is asking your dad for more money and trying to hit on girls at expensive yatch clubs. Maybe you’ll impress them driving a brand new $150,000 car as your first car that your father obviously bought, or those nice watches and shoes?I guess that’s what makes you such a cocky, straight arrogant young preppy boy, right ?

Statistics :

Identity :

Age : 18

Name : Sebastian

IQ : 80

Personality : Very annoying, just thinks money can make its way into everything - overall just dumb and not very connected with reality, thinks whoever isn’t rich doesn’t belong near him.

Sexuality : Straight, very straight.

Body :

Body type : Lean, sinewy body.

Overall attractiveness : 9.5/10.

Private’s size : 5 inches hard, but pretty thin which makes it look even smaller.

Rear end size : Perfectly round shaped rear, nice and full. Soft and smooth. Very nice to see bounce in pants and lovely to touch.

Overall B.O : 5/10 - Just smells mostly of cologne, but it’s very strong and sometimes annoying, with a slight sweaty funk underneath that mixes with the deodorant/cologne and becomes quite odorous.

Armpit scent : Pretty sweaty, and the smell is quite strong. Deodorants only mask the smell for about an hour before it starts making Itself known again.

Gassiness : 8/10, Those rich restaurants he goes to just make himself terribly gassy. The sounds are mostly hot, steamy puffs that smell of rotten eggs. He takes pride in them though and loves the smell, but that’s a little secret of his.

Foot smell : Quite smelly, smelling of rotten butter and cheese after a long day, and since he mostly wears expensive leather shoes the smell gets trapped in them and becomes very strong, almost repulsive.

Muscles : Lean/muscular body.

[mawofthemagnetar]

Father's Day

“So, hold on a minute,” Iskall held his hands up, “back up, because I must have missed that. You’re a FATHER?”

“Well, yeah?” Jevin shrugged, scrolling through his comm, “What’s so hard about that to believe?”

Iskall, by way of a reply, simply gestured at Jevin’s person from his head to his slimy feet.

“So? Okay, yeah, I guess it- is a little hard to fathom. I do, uh, have a certain- aura of coolness around me. But yeah, no, I’m a dad. And a damn good one, too. I mean, a slime-dad, which is a little different than a regular dad. But for a slime-dad, I’m top-shelf. Of course.”

“Uh-huh. And how does a slime-dad differ from a regular dad?” Iskall folded his arms.

“I don’t gotta, uh, chase after my kids as much as you guys do. They’re pretty much ready to go once they hit full-size. I do my bit by checking up on them periodically. Anyway, point is, I gotta go. My kids are throwing a father’s day bash, and I can’t be late.”

Iskall rubbed his temples.

“Okay, couple questions. One, father’s day was three months ago. Two, is there a Missus Jevin you’ve got stashed away somewhere? Or a Mister Jevin? Or-“

“…Why would another person be involved?” Jevin asked, tilting his head with a squish of slime, “Like, literally, why? Who needs help to become a parent?”

“…Uh…you know what? No. You want to learn about the parrots and the bats, go talk to Keralis.”

“Sure, whatever. Anyway, to answer your second question, it’s ‘cause if you try to do father’s day on the actual, like, day, renting a big enough hall is stupid expensive and it’s all just kind of dumb. And a hassle. So we host it whenever.”

Jevin glanced up from his comm.

“Wanna come? Meet my kids, I mean.”

Iskall rubbed his forehead.

“Sure, why not. Hit me with it.”

They tapped their comms together, and Jevin clacked his jaw together- the slime equivalent of a smile.

“Okay, so uh…All my kids know you guys as their aunts and uncles. So if they start calling you “auntie Iskall-“

“-Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m used to it.” Iskall nodded, “Should I wear something special?” 

Jevin waved a hand. 

“Nah, don’t worry about it. You’re fine as you are. Anyway, let’s go. Not good to keep my kids waiting!” 

And Jevin tapped a few options on his comm and vanished. 

<iJevin has left the game.> 

Iskall shrugged, tapped over to his server list, and selected the option for the Hub, with the teleport coordinates visible in the centre. 

He tapped it, and vanished. 

<Iskall85 has left the game.>

When Iskall opened his eyes again, he was standing outside a colossal building, looking like some kind of conference centre. It was made of smooth quartz, with a fake parking lot full of fake vehicles that had clearly taken some builder a long time to put together. 

Jevin was standing there, tapping his sneaker impatiently, the blue slime slosh-slosh-sloshing against the ground. 

“Alright, c’mon, let’s get moving.” Jevin huffed, “We’re already a couple minutes late, and my kids worked really hard to put this on.” 

“I’m coming, I’m coming…” Iskall muttered, brushing off his pants and following Jevin towards the doors.

Iskall was assuming that Jevin’s family would have set up a few tables in a corner. He was a slime; and the way Jevin was talking, Iskall had assumed a big family. Maybe ten kids? That would be a pretty big family. 

Then Jevin and Iskall stepped into the conference hall. 

“HAPPY FATHER’S DAY, DAD!” 

Several thousand slimes bellowed all at once, a wall of sound so deafening that Iskall could feel his bionic eye nearly shake out of its housing. 

He blinked his one eye, darting it around the room in shock. There were hundreds of small tables around which sat an unfathomable number of slimes in all colours of the rainbow. The room was a riot of wild fashion choices, and a deafening rumble of clattering bones and squelching bodies.

“I- I-” Iskall stammered, as he reached up and tightened the nut holding his robotic eye onto his skull’s mounting post.  

“HEY EVERYONE!” Jevin shouted back, “THANK YOU!” 

“Is that Uncle Iskall?” a deep voice said eagerly, “It’s so nice to meet you!” 

“You have…THOUSANDS…of children. Not ten. Not twenty. Not even a hundred. THOUSANDS.” Iskall stammered. 

“Yeah. I’m, uh, the father of all slime hybrids. It’s not a big deal, to be honest. Some other slime would’ve absorbed a skeleton and decided to think about itself if I hadn’t.” Jevin shrugged. 

“All. Of them. ALL OF THEM.” Iskall clutched his head in his hands.

“Yeah? It’s not that difficult. You just, like, shed some slime on a large enough pile of biomass, it’ll grow into a kid. How is this so confusing for you? That’s probably where humans come from.” Jevin shrugged. 

He rubbed his slimy hands together with a hideous squelch, and started traveling through the room, eagerly greeting each and every one of his kids. 

Iskall staggered over to the snack table, piled high with compost, cinderblocks, and beer. He popped a bottle, and started chugging it.

[f0point5]

We were card sharks, playing games

Part 80 of the Max Verstappen x bestfriend!reader social media au

A/N: The only thing i care about today is the face Max made in the press conference talking about the cookie. I hope you all enjoy this part <3

Tag list

@somanyfandomsbruh @eugene-emt-roe @reidsworld @max3verstappen @laneyspaulding19 @elliegrey2803 @inthestars-underthesun @jayda12 @gaysontoast @baw-sixteen @wcnorris @motorsp0rt @obsessed-fan-alert @lifesuckslife @luciaexcorvus @dumb-fawkin-bitch @lickmeleclerc @goldeng1rl8 @trentwife @mynameisangeloflife @princessria127 @mcmuppet @hiraethrhapsody @toomuchdelusion @lxclerc @lpab @lordperceval-16 @larastark3107 @bangtanxberm @random-readers-world @bladestark @allenajade-ite @ironmaiden1313 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @charllleclerc @kachoooow95 @bellalilo @samywhale @satellitelh @leclercdream @jamie2305 @illicitverstappen @vellicora @honethatty12 @sociallyinepludi @raizelchrysanderoctavius @bellewintersroe @taylorslovesswifties13 @tyna-19 @jquinnmunson

[cipheramnesia]

Re: your tags, I don't think this is going off the rails, and it's sort of interesting to me that what you're describing reflects similar to my experience (I was not depressed, but I was and still am baffled [well, maybe a little depressed - I cannot get over how unpleasant Ken's characterization was]), but it also raises an interesting point of nuance.

That is, there's the usual uniformed alt right critics who just hate anything that breathes near a woman, obviously there's not any nuance to that. However, generally speaking the crux of both people who love the movie and people with actual negative feedback (not just knee jerk reactivism) is the issue of nuance. Both groups seem to agree nuance is key but people who liked it feel criticism lacks nuance, while people who did not like the movie find it suffers from a lack of nuance.

There's different ways to approach the question - for example it's possible to argue that having these conversations represents the intended effect of the movie. I don't believe that to be the case, but it's a fair interpretation. It's arguable that the movie literally makes it's thesis statement in Gloria's monologue and intends the rest of the movie, whole cloth, as demonstrating this thesis. Which, I don't think it does, but also that's a valid interpretation - which is kinda the whole point of criticism, not to come to a right opinion, but to have a discussion about art.

On the third side, I find it weighs heavily that the response to negative criticism is either that we were thinking to much about a fun lighthearted movie or that we just didn't have the nuance to understand it. It's a scab I really need to stop picking at.

I mean saying the movie supported men's rights kind of ignores that what the kens did was painted as bad. Like that was very much the message of the film

That was the text of the film but not the message.

I'm not going to apply greater nuanced analysis to a movie that had all coherent structure papered over in producer notes. But for a movie that spends a lot of time pointing out situations that are unfair, not equal, or "bad" it didn't have anything to say about why or what might actually resolve the inequality.

Not saying it needs to author the revolution or anything, just it kinda stopped at "patriarchy bad because men rule all and are dumb boys who are gross" and I think that's boring? It's like hey, inequality sure is bad! And it seems like weird and wrong the girl empowerment doll for diverse women is exclusively developed by old white men! Followed by crickets chirping.

I was kinda waiting for the other shoe to drop, like yes, this is a pretty fun satirical look at gender and... and..? And that's it. Barbie world goes back to hierarchical control in a perfect utopia. The real world is unaffected because all those executives are just silly guys who are trying their best. Gloria gets to be a good mom, and hands her ideas over to the corporation. The new line of Barbies are Barbies that just don't want anything at all. And Margot Barbie just leaves.

Which is unfortunate because it starts out with a great deal of very interesting ideas, but ends up without anything much to say at all. It uses all the right words but mostly just kinda ascribes broad universal meaning and morality rather than considering any of it could have some underlying complexity.

We all know feminism can't hold hands with capitalism, but the Barbie movie wants the cache of the feminist movement beholden to the bottom line of Mattel's investors. And as a fun movie about children's dolls it's fine, but it's also selling itself as a feminist film, which it very much is not.

[fleckcmscott]

At Long Last

Summary: With Y/N's help, Arthur begins to discover what openness truly means.

Words: 2,287

Warnings: Swearing, Adult situations

A/N: A hearty welcome and hello to new readers! 😃 And much love and thanks to old! 🤗💜 This story came to me right after watching the sequel. I wanted to return to the beginnings of Arthur and Y/N's relationship, revisit those trepidatious yet thrilling early days. This piece takes place four days after After. Special thanks to @sweet-nothings04 for beta-ing! Please enjoy!

If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask. Requests for Arthur and WWH are open!

Arthur trudged into his apartment, dragging a sopping wet hamper behind him.

Out of Order signs had hung from 225a Anderson Avenue's row of dryers for the better part of two weeks. He'd managed to avoid the basement laundromat, its abandoned bowling alley charms. Scrubbed a stain on his trousers in the sink, soaked t-shirts in a basin with a scoop of Borax. But with the armpits of his cardigans too funky to wear, he'd found himself in a pinch.

His last three quarters had clinked to the bottom of the Speed Queen - and the machine had quit as soon as it'd hit the spin cycle. Not a shock, really. That was the way everything went for good old Arthur Fleck. His minor celebrity status hadn't spun a better thread.

Splats across the basement floor, a puddle in the rickety elevator, streaks down the hall to 8J. A trail of clues for the absent super to follow and lay blame.

Arthur kicked the hamper for bad measure. Water seeped onto the entrance runner. Shoulders sagged under twenty pounds of resignation, a peck of indignation ground his teeth. He shoved another cigarette between his lips and puffed storm clouds from his nose.

Just as he was draping a thermal shirt over the side of the tub, the telephone rang. Scoffing, he grabbed a crumpled pair of briefs.

The hospital had called during skipped breakfast, said his first choice for a home to send Penny to had no space. He'd offered a suggestion ("Can you tell them I was on Murray? Maybe they'll have a bed then."), then told them to try another, any other. A Gotham Hydro bill marked Past Due had put him on notice, but he'd mailed the check two days ago, so whatever. They could leave a message.

But the answering machine didn't answer. It hit him that he'd unplugged it last night, the result of a prank caller asking him to do his dumb laugh. A minute more and the branging and bronging continued, a ring that would ricochet in his skull for hours.

"Fuck," he muttered. Wiping his hands on his pajama bottoms, he charged to the kitchen phone. "Hello?"

"Arthur, hi," Y/N said.

Warmth melted the icicle of frustration lodged in his chest, the out of the blue call instantly easing his load. His girlfriend, a brand-new thread that wound him up in all the right ways. He sighed her name and leaned on the counter as she continued. "Are you busy? I can call later."

"No. No, I'm good. Free, I mean." He tapped his cigarette into a pink ashtray. "You can talk to me now."

"I was wondering if I could have my joke a little earlier today. Patricia is at a conference of counsel on that goddamn Wayne case, and I'm losing my mind."

"Well..." He eyed his wet feet, the puddle he needed to mop up. "What did one washing machine say to the other?" After giving her three chances to guess, he offered the punchline. "This is a draining job." Light laughter on the other end. He grabbed a pencil and jotted the quip before he could forget it.

"Do you want to go out tonight?" she asked. "There's an Italian place a block from me that makes a great chicken parmesan."

He did. But Arthur didn't have to check his wallet to know it was empty. "No, thank you."

A photocopier hummed in the background. "Well, why don't you come over for dinner? Matt won't care if I take a long lunch. I'll throw a soup together in my crockpot, it'll be ready by the time you get there. You could take leftovers."

His eyelids slammed shut, the need to cling to her battling his pride. She'd already paid for lunch last Thursday, bought their movie tickets Saturday, and made dinner that evening. He'd wished her good night and left, heavy steps carrying him back to his place despite her pout that he loved so much. He refused to be the burden on Y/N that he'd been on Penny.

"That's really-" He spoke with the same steadiness he practiced for performances. Gulped against a watery tremor. "That's okay."

"That's okay? Does that mean yes?"

Tongue tied, he swiped at his nose. God, she was stubborn.

The creak of her office chair. Her voice lowered, like she was cupping her hand over the receiver. Throaty and conspiratorial. "Arthur, I've needed you inside me all morning, and I don't see that ache going away without you."

Only his furrowed brow kept his eyes from falling out of his head. His mouth watered at the idea of sharing a meal with her - but not as much as at what she'd just confessed.

God, she was sensational.

Swiping greasy strands of hair from his cheek, he decided to move the laundry from the tub to the sink. "I- I'll be there."

~~~~~

It was breathy and quick, a speed Arthur associated more with first times than sevenths. (He'd been without his meds for about a month and assumed that was at fault.) He blinked at her after he came. Swallowed and squirmed between her legs.

Y/N giggled and washed away his embarrassment. "I'll take that as a compliment," she said, nimble fingers lacing through freshly shampooed locks. Her pelvis canted upward, her mouth striving towards his.

He rolled to her left, to her side of the bed. Turned to study her profile. Her hand was splayed on her sternum, which slowed to rise and fall at an easy pace. He tucked himself under the floral comforter, thicker and softer than anything he had at home.

A few huffs later and she cackled with laughter. "I haven't been this horny in ages."

Parted fingers covered his eyes, a swelling pride permeating bashful chuckles. He hadn't been this horny ever. Yeah, there'd been urges. The same desires as any other man. But getting to know himself as a sexual being, having a sex life, being and having a lover felt like a long-desired suit. A suit he'd finally gotten his hands on and was now learning to tailor.

He folded an arm behind his head. Good thing something this wonderful was free.

She propped herself on her elbow. "We need to catch another movie soon. I keep thinking of you in the theatre, humming along to all the songs. How many times have you seen it?"

Shall We Dance was a perennial favorite, the tale of two dancers driven to marry by spectacle and rumor, who in the end fall in love. "I dunno. Fifty?" It was in constant rotation on GMC, a soundtrack to his growing up.

He nestled back into her pillow. "I used to imagine I was Fred Astaire. That one day I'd meet my Ginger." His face heated at that admission, the fantasies of a schoolboy he carried to this day. But perhaps telling Y/N without hesitation was what intimacy was. What safety and security were supposed to feel like.

"That's a high bar." She rucked the sheet to her armpits. "I hope you're not disappointed."

"No. I'm not," he said, as serious as an NCB interviewee. "You get me."

"You're not that hard to figure out."

"You're perfect."

A grimace flashed across her forehead. "No. I'm not."

Looping an arm about her middle, he tugged her to him. "Well, you're perfect for me."

That appeared to suit her. She snuggled against his side, lay her head on his bare shoulder. He nuzzled at her sepia hair, kissed her brow. His focused stare dwindled, a story unfurling in his heart.

Full page notices of their impending matrimony splashed across the Gotham Examiner, the Gazette, the Globe, papers read by the poor and powerless. The Gotham Times and the Journal, papers read by the prosperous and powerful. Announcements for everyone who'd made fun of him, everyone who'd underestimated him. Hoyt, Randall, Mur-ray. Hell, even Penny, who'd told Y/N she'd never believed he'd find a girlfriend. Treasures he'd tear from the newsprint and paste in his journal. Reminders of all he'd earned, that he'd gotten what he deserved.

Y/N murmured that the pea and ham soup should be done, and his daydream gave way to reality. When she asked why he hadn't wanted to come over, he gave a grunt of acknowledgment but no answer. He let his gaze roam the room, a grounding exercise he'd learned during one of his stints at Arkham State Hospital. A way to make himself present.

A two door in-wall closet was across from the foot of the bed, a walnut bow-back armchair sat in the corner by the door. Against the left wall stood a chest of drawers, on top of which sat a jewelry box, a watch, a vanity mirror, and a hairbrush. Little pieces of her that would be joined by his.

On her nightstand was a ceramic lamp, mauve and round, accompanied by a digital clock radio and a pen. A short stack of softcover books was next to it, five in total. The top book lay open, face down. He cocked his head to read the spine. Loving Someone with Major Depressive Disorder.

"What's this?" he asked, plucking it from the pile.

"A series I'm reading through."

He scanned the other books long enough to catch partial titles. ...someone with manic... ...traumatic stress... ...iety disorder... Manuals of misfortune. He worried the tip of his tongue. "Because of me?"

She ran her palm across his abdomen. "Because I want to do the right thing."

He skimmed the page she'd left off on.

Telling your loved one, "If you'd only try harder" or "Why can't you just be happy?" merely serves to worsen his mental state. Such phrases contribute to the hopelessness and shame a patient is already feeling. It is as useful as telling a cancer patient that with enough positive thinking, he can cure himself.

Y/N would never say anything of the sort. Of that, he was sure. She listened, took him seriously, even when she disagreed. She was as far from Penny as east was from west, a woman who'd slapped him with a nickname and treated him like an invisible man. Y/N having these paperbacks on her nightstand meant that she saw him. That she cared.

That he was the first thing she thought of in the morning and the last each and every night.

He replaced the book, cuddled her closer. "Maybe I should read a law book or something. You know, to learn about your job?" Though he had a vague understanding of her work, knew it had to do with the legal system, the specifics eluded him. She seemed to be detective, secretary, and lawyer all rolled into one.

She pushed herself from the mattress and went to the closet. Pulled the corner chair before it and climbed. He admired the shapeliness of her bottom, the ease of her nakedness.

After some shuffling, she hopped back down and threw on a robe. Returned to his side to hand him a green hardcover with gold lettering: Paralegal Practice and Procedure.

The textbook was lead in his hands, the thickest he'd ever held. He flipped to the last page. Glimpsed the size ten font and page number 356. Twitchy fingertips drummed the cover. "Can I- Can I borrow it?"

"Of course," she answered, and set it aside. She drew a line down his forehead. "I'll dogear the important parts. You can always ask me about it, too. I'd like that."

Long eyelashes cast a shadow on his cheeks. "What's the hardest case you've had?"

"The Wayne case." Her trail continued along the bridge of his nose.

"And the best?"

Her breath brushed his face. She followed the groove that ran from his nose to his mouth. "The Wayne case," she said with unexpected warmth. Her thumb traced the scar on his upper lip.

On a flinch, he seized her hand. Thought to move it away, to a smoother part of his body. The sharp plain of his cheek, the swell of his bicep, the sinewy inside of his thigh. Places she loved to caress, spots he'd accepted she admired.

But her kind expression, soft yet inquisitive, forced him to reconsider.

For the most part, the scar didn't bother him, though it could be a pain to shave around. Its origins were unknown. If it was a parting gift from one of Penny's boyfriends, or if he'd been born with it. If he'd been malformed in the womb. The flaw was visible for everyone to see in the same way his laughing condition was audible for everyone to hear.

No one had gone out of the way to touch it. To touch him. People had avoided him his whole life. Gossiped behind his back after he'd pass, scoffed when he'd offer his laminated card. The strangeness of this woman diving into him was hard to take.

Was it possible for vulnerability to no longer invite further pain?

A quick blink against the wetness flooding his eyes. His heart beating against hers. He pressed her to the scar, tilted upward into her grasp. Not trying to halt the watery tremor in his words, Arthur whispered what he'd longed to since she'd returned to him. Since he'd taken her on his kitchen floor.

"I- I'm in love with you."

Beaming, Y/N twined her legs with his, her center damp on his thigh. "You're one of the best things that's ever happened to me." Her thumb dragged along the scar once more. "I'm in love with you, too."

She bent to kiss it, then kissed him. Full and wet and sweet and the whole world.

~~~~~

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[002yb]

For the secretary au I wonder what would happen if Jason ever had to take Damian to the office for any reason like he was sick and really clingy or the babysitter had to cancel last minute (also I hope this doesn't bother you and if it does feel free to ignore it)

Chances are that if Damian is sick, Jason will take time off until his boy is back in good health. Damian and his well-being takes precedent over everything for Jason, so regardless of the situation/circumstances, Jason is staying at Damian's side. Damn anyone that tries to take him away, too.

The first time Jason calls out of work, it's with little explanation. Bruce receives a text/email explaining that Jason needs to take a sick day. And of course Bruce frets, but he lets it go with a simple, 'Understood. Feel better.'

Then Jason calls out again the next day and Bruce immediately gets so intense about it. Like there's an actual aura coming from his office as he sits at his desk and doesn't do any work because he's brooding behind the steeple of his hands.

He's using every bit of willpower not to overstep bounds to go and see Jason and bring him a care package or a doctor and--

Tim heaving the greatest of sighs because it's probably a cold, just give him a few days to recover. Stop being weird.

But then another day passes and Jason is still calling out sick and suddenly Tim is right there alongside Bruce, sat across from him at his desk. And they stew together and contemplate their game plan.

They conference call Alfred and Dick to loop them in to this really deep, convoluted plan (courtesy of Tim, who steamrolls the conversation; Bruce is so on board though - the true disaster duo) to check in on Jason and get him help; Bruce has his concierge doctor on call, so—

Alfred chiming in because, 'Or you could message him on his condition, sirs.' Or if Jason needs anything.

Which strikes Bruce and Tim dumb because, yeah. That's a real well-adjusted way of doing it. Huh. Cue embarrassed CEO and COO who stay suspiciously quiet because such a simple thing didn't make its way into any of their considerations/plans

So Dick interrupts because he's already done the above. Back on day one. You know. Like the average person does?

Tim grumbling about how Dick is far from average. Meanwhile Bruce is back to being intense because, 'what is his status?'

Long story short: Damian is down with a cold/flu; Jason is taking care of him.

Bruce stating that he's contacting the concierge doctor immediately; they can get Damian in to a pediatrician at the nearest children's hospital and—

Alfred cutting Bruce off by asking Dick if Jason needs help. Because Alfred is happy to assist.

And Dick lets them both down easy, because he's got it under control

Which. What? Traitor.

Just Dick already being there to help out. Running errands and taking care of Jason while Jason is busy caring for Damian. Maybe a bit of Dick looking after Damian, too ;U;

Ffffffff just the cuteness of Dick seeing Jason care for Damian and being reminded of how his mother used to look after Dick, way back when. The softness, the fretting. Forehead kisses to check for fever, fingers combed through sweat mussed hair. Lukewarm towels to heated skin and gentle soothing with the coming of chills and the desire for heat. Just little back rubs and assurances until Damian dozes off from exhaustion.

And the sweetness of Dick going to buy medicine and making sure Jason is taken care of, too. Cutting fruits or bringing easy meals. Cleaning up when Damian gets sick over himself and the floor ;n; Holding Damian to his chest while they're all on the couch so that Jason can doze for just a few minutes (only for Jason to wake a couple hours later to Dick walking slow through the apartment, Damian's head cradled to his chest as he talks at him, voice low and calm and steady enough to help Damian drift back off)

Something something Jason resting his head against the back of the couch and watching them fondly. And when Dick realizes that Jason is awake and watching, he smiles but carries on as he was

Sitting at the table, slouched over cups of coffee after putting Damian down in his bed to rest properly. And Jason thanking Dick for the help, but he doesn't need to put himself out for them

Only Dick isn't. Not at all

Then they talk. Quiet in the low light of the kitchen, in those hours between late and early.

(Specific talking point: slipped comment on how certain things Jason did reminded Dick of his mom. And Dick is so fond that Jason feels something like pride—so flattered he might be endeared. It's such a sweet comparison to draw, especially since Dick holds his parents in such high regard)

(Other talking point: Jason asking if Dick has kids because he's really good with them. Which Dick huffs a laugh about and tells Jason no (and it sounds a little sad, a little melancholic because infertile!Dick Grayson agenda, yep). Which Jason thinks is a shame. He'd make a good parent. And the sentiment wounds Dick so much it's so sweet ;3;).

Anyway, Dick relays to the family that Damian is just about recovered. And that Jason should be back to work soon. And that it'd be a real shame if he came back to a ton of work that the CEO and COO couldn't get done in his absence. ◉‿◉

Alternative sick!Damian situations, or just a continuation from the above:

Where Alfred offers to look after Damian (after he recovers from the worst of the cold/flu and is on the mend)

Jason being reluctant because he doesn't want to put Damian's fussiness on anyone, let alone Alfred

Although nearly back to 100%, Damian gets clingy and ornery after he's been sick and once Jason returns to not being available all hours

But Alfred insists because that's his grandson it doesn't matter how fussy he is he raised Bruce; he's got this

Which makes Jason snicker and eventually relent

At which point Alfred gets quality time with Damian and although Damian sleeps most of the time, Alfred is 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘ about it

As for Damian being at WE...

It's an anticipated visit and Damian dresses for business, toddler/small child though he may be lol

He's well behaved because Jason asks him to be, spending most of his time drawing

When anyone dares to approach Jason's desk though, the Al Ghul demon glare comes out and scares them off hahaha

Since Damian is tucked away behind him, Jason wouldn't notice. He'd just be confused because usually his co-workers put up a bit more of a fight?

It's Tim who overhears about the cutest guard dog sitting at Jason's workstation -- so protective and sweet! Sometimes coworkers walk that direction just to see the sour expression that takes over Damian's features. Then they'll leave and laugh over how sweet it is.

Tim witnessing the intense scowl for himself and grimacing because wtf, there's nothing cute about that it's so intimidating??

======

Thank you for the ask!! It wasn't a bother at all. This was really fun to reply to, so thank you again. Sorry for the delay though. <3

[transmutationisms]

Bankman-Fried isn’t a true believer in anything, really, but he definitely wasn’t a true believer in crypto or its apostles: after he meets Zhao, at a conference, he observes, “CZ sort of just says things. They aren’t dumb. They aren’t smart.”

The main requirement for his board members—the other two of whom he was unable to name—was that “they don’t mind DocuSigning at three a.m. DocuSigning is the main job.”

ok you kinda have to hand it to him on these ones

[winterisol]

"tenho medo da minha cabeça"

inspired of "Medo do Medo" by O Terno Rosquez AU (BIG ANGST) Warnings death, depression

So this is a really dark idea I've been playing around with for a while involving the whole 2015 divorce.

So the title of this fic literally means "I'm scared of my head" and I would like a fic where it applies to both Vale and Marc in 2015.

I would say by the beginning of 2014 these two are fucking, maybe even dating. Its like those shallow high school relationships, and probably with an unhealthy power dynamic. But over time its clear that those power dynamics are in place, not because Marc is any less than Vale, but is willing to give Vale that power because Marc loves and trust Valentino that much. And maybe that is part of the reason the divorce happens.

Young and emotional Marc giving his heart a little bit too easily V. Valentino Rossi, a man famous for his commitment issues.

Starting with Assen, Valentino begins to doubt Marc, aka being delulu, starting to believe maybe they aren't as buddy buddy as Marc acts in front of the camera. (Though he is really looking for more of an excuse to put distance between them)

Typical 2015 and then bam the Philip Island conference. I think Marc searches Valentino out after the conference, hoping it was all some joke, only for Valentino to be cruel and cutting, maybe poking at some of Marc's biggest insecurities. Perhaps Valentino says Marc is "dangerous" that he's "reckless" but the words that hurt the most is that Marc was "dumb" to "fall in love" and that Valentino "never loved him." (This is categorically untrue but so is a lot of the other BS vale says, so yeah). If I really want to go darker, maybe Valentino even says, that he knew Marc was dangerous the day he crashed out in 2011, you know the crash. The crash that almost killed and ended Marc's whole career.

Anyway, Marc is definitely in his head, but tries to use Sepang as a way to get back at Vale. Just like in IRL, this backfires, Valentino kicking Marc off his bike and the divorce is finalized.

Marc is now completely lost in thoughts, perhaps second guessing every aspect of his relationship with Valentino. I think there are a few incidents leading up to the finale. There is of course journalists trying to break into Marc's family home. People yelling things at him on track, at the paddock even at the airport. He has security to following him constantly, and everything is a lot. But I think Valencia is where shit truly hits the fan.

It's suppose to be a home race for Marc, a race in his country, Spain. But even here, he's jeered, people abuse him and it feels like no matter where he goes, no on likes him, because no one is greater than Valentino Rossi.

Following the end of the season Marc falls into a depressive rut not even his mother or brother can drag him out of. He feels lost and not in control, which only panics and depresses him more (another control freak). It's like a negative feedback loop, and he just wallows for weeks.

Then finally, for some reason, maybe it's after Alex cries begging his brother to be happy again, Marc tries to go about life again. But he's an empty husk, just going through the motions of a person who no longer exists.

Perhaps its at the beginning year test in Sepang. Marc is riding, and even while riding the thoughts seem to not go away. Perhaps he loses focus because of the biting feelings of depression, or even worse he's silently wishing to just die already. Either way, he crashes, letting the front slide and the rear lift, throwing him head first into the tarmac.

I think Marc passes away basically on impact (idk how realistic it is with these types of crashes). Perhaps there is a mistake with the medic team, pre-season testing and everything leading to the correct safety measure not being taken. He's basically lying there on circuit, slowly dying, brain turning fog, but his last thought is that he's thankful for the reprise (ouch).

His death is obviously a shock to the whole motorsport world. A young talent, the youngest motoGP world champion, the baby alien, a kid with so much more to live for. gone.

Then in Marc's motorhome as Alex's goes to sob on his brother's bed, he sees a series of papers. Marc wrote notes to him, his parents, his friends but also Jorge, Dani and Valentino. (These notes are NOT suicide notes, more like Marc trying to collect his thoughts, and doing it as letters to people he cares/cared about bcuz its easier that way. These notes were never intended to see the light of day)

Alex is obviously inconsolable, reading through it, realizing its less of a note to him, but a confession. Marc venting all his dark thoughts through a message to his younger brother, thinking that Alex would never find or hear these thoughts.

Then there are the letters to Dani, Jorge and Valentino.

These letters are apologies, Marc overthinking every mistake, trying to rationalize the reason for his loneliness.

Dani reads it and feels like a failure. Not being a good enough teammate, a good enough mentor, a good enough friend for Marc, who's only goal in life was to win and enjoy winning.

Jorge is furious at first, storming towards Valentino and yelling bloody murder, before throwing Vale's note at him. Jorge feeling guilty that he secondhandly caused the divorce.

And then Vale, is a mess. In every sense of the word, he almost withdraws from the first race of the season because of how messed up everything is. He feels, guilt, loss, despair but also an indescrible amount of regret. Not only is Marc dead, but they ended on such horrible terms. Valentino not only lost the love of his life, but let the love of his life believe that he was unlovable.

I think it takes the combined effort of Vale's friends (yes even Uccio) as well as a reconciliation with the Marquez family to make Valentino feel even remotely human again.

It's slow, and perhaps it ends with Valentino creating a small monument for Marc in his Ranch, which every February 17 at 12:00 AM he leaves a bouquet of forgetmenots and daisies.